The Castle on the Hill, Ch. 2

Into the Blackwood

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The escape came easier than she expected, and Katrine hurried as best she could to get out of sight from her home. A tricky task considering most of the trees and shrubs that had once covered the slopes of the Misty Valley’s southwest bank had been long since cleared out to make room for the vineyards. Rows upon rows of grapes, varying in color from black to purple to red, were grown on these slopes every year. Now, as autumn drew into its later months and the warm valley started to cool, the crop drew toward the end of its season. That meant there would be workers tending the fields from dawn all the way through the dusk, and some even later if the urgency to complete the harvest was high enough.

Katrine was thankful no such urgent need existed this year. The valley was fortunate enough to avoid the usual causes for an urgent harvest, chief of which were looming severe weather or a lack of available field hands, which was usually the result of sickness. The upside was that keeping hidden after dark would be easier. The downside was that these fields were full of workers attempting to finish out their day’s labor, and while her cloak did help to hide her face, it wasn’t enough to hide her silken dress.

She would have to be careful, to pick her way cautiously lest she be seen. A slow and steady pace would help best with that, but it was also something she couldn’t afford. Only a few minutes had passed since she left through her window, long enough that she was able to sneak her way out of the walled courtyard surrounding her home but certainly not enough time to give her much of a head start. Rough estimates told her that she had two, maybe three minutes before Mother found out and roused not just the house guard in pursuit of her, but her brothers and Father and probably even her prospective suitor, to say nothing of whatever honor guard he had with him. Not much time at all. There was one advantage playing in her favor, though, a seemingly innocuous bit of knowledge that Father had told her some years ago when she first showed interest in the family trade - the upper fields were already clear. 

It was a trick thought up by her Grandmother decades ago, a method for making the harvest just a little bit easier. Rather than having the workers start near the bottom of the vineyards, closer to their homes in the lower plain of the valley proper, she had them start the harvest at the highest fields and work their way down the slopes instead. That simple idea ended up saving them far more time than either of her grandparents ever could’ve guessed, enough that it gave them time to sow an extra crop in the lower fields for an end of season harvest.

Katrine would have to hurry if she wanted to take advantage of those empty plots, though. The house was situated amongst the middle fields and the climb to the upper fields was steep and could be treacherous in the flat soled slippers she wore with her dress. Still, it was her best chance, so she bundled up the front of her dress and started making her way up the-

“Katrine!” came Mother’s explosive shout!

So much for a head start. At the very least, Katrine was pretty sure the shout had come from her room and not the front entrance to the house. If so, that would buy her at least a little more time. The young woman scrambled up the slope as quickly as she could, careful to avoid slipping on roots or rocks jutting from the loose soil, or even on the soil itself. Her slippers sank and skidded in the soft dirt, but she managed to keep her balance. Before long she grew more sure of her footing, and the more sure she became the faster she moved. After a long moment, she was about halfway to the lowest edge of the upper fields.

More shouts came from the house, Mother and Father and Janette and some other voices she didn’t know. Someone, a young man by the sound of him, offered to search for her on horseback. That had to be Paul. Katrine cursed under her breath and pushed herself to move faster! She wouldn’t be able to outrun him on horseback, but if she could get to the next plot then she might be able to hide from sight among the rows or behind one of the supply sheds until he moved on.

Soon she heard the beat of the horse’s gallop. She scrambled faster. Too fast! The soil beneath her feet slid and she would’ve fallen forward had she not caught herself on one of the wooden frames which supported the rows of grapevines. Gritting her teeth she forced herself to run as best she could, keeping the front of her dress tightly bundled with her right hand while she kept her left free to grab at the frame again if she needed to.

More pounding hoofbeats. She dared a look back and saw four horsemen come into view a fair way down the slope. They were on the winding path that led up to the house, near the lowest plots of the middle fields. Three of them were dressed in military uniforms of royal blue. They wore no gambesons or other pieces of field armor, instead donning dress jackets trimmed in gold with matching gold tassels at their shoulders. Instead of the usual skull caps or bucket helms worn on the battlefields, these three wore steel kettle hats which were painted in the same blue and gold and topped with tall plumes of black horsehair. Two of them rode strong chestnut stallions, while the third had an older mare with mottled fur of black and sandy brown and a snout marked with gray.

Even from a distance the fourth, Paul, stood out from the rest for his comparative youth. Where his guards bore facial hair of varying thickness, the young man who addressed them appeared to have none. Those differences were further accentuated by both his horse and his dress. The horse was tall and black and helped him sit just a bit taller than his guards despite being a little shorter than most of them. He wore a fine doublet of green and silver with a ruffle of white lace at his collar and a hip length cape draped over his left shoulder. The cape was the same royal blue as his guards’ uniforms and its underside, occasionally revealed by the late afternoon bluster, flashed dully with gold thread. Puffy checkered breeches, black shoes with brass buckles, and white gloves completed the ensemble. He wore no hat or cap, nothing to hide his lustrous blonde hair. Like Father, he kept it tied back near the nape of his neck.

Katrine couldn’t hear what they were saying from so far away, but it didn’t matter. Paul was gesticulating, motioning first to his men and then to the three different directions he’d have them search in. When it came time to inform them where he’d be searching - they wouldn’t likely permit him to go off without knowing where he’d be so they could find him if something went awry - Katrine’s breath caught in her throat. He was pointing right at her!

No, calm down. He wasn’t pointing at her, but at the fields. Still, that was far from ideal. Scrambling once more up the slope, she ducked low and kept as close as she could to the picked vines and the wood frames that supported them. They wouldn’t provide her much cover, but with a little luck they’d help her go unnoticed by Paul or anyone else who happened to come this way to look for her.

The thunder of beating hooves sounded again and Katrine chanced another glance over her shoulder. Damnation! Paul was already headed up into the middle fields! The mighty steed’s hooves pounded into the soil as the young rider spurred it along! Katrine ducked low, moving away from the vines on her left to huddle against those on her right. Two rows over, in that same direction, Paul slowed his horse to a canter and looked around.

Katrine’s heart beat even harder than the horse’s hooves had. It thundered so loud in her head that she wondered how she could even hear anything else. Yet she did. She heard the grumbles and huffs of Paul’s horse as it breathed and the dull thump of its hooves as it cantered by. She also heard the flutter of Paul’s cape in the wind and the rich tenor of his voice as he said, “I don’t see her.”

He hadn’t seen her yet, Highfather be praised. Perhaps he’d pass her by if she remained still and quiet enough. She held her breath, quite literally so given she placed both hands over her mouth to keep herself silent. Peering through the vines, she could still see Paul looking around, though he’d slowed his horse to a stop now.

“She’s not here,” he huffed. The muted clap of his hand against his horse’s neck or shoulder echoed out. “We’ll find her, though, right Stelios?”

The horse gave a huffy grunt, to which the young man answered with a laugh. “Let’s go, Stelios! Hya!”

A snap of the reins later and Stelios was off again. Paul turned him north at the end of the plot, running him between the middle and upper fields. It was a bittersweet outcome for Katrine. Riding off so far gave her a chance to get into those upper fields and possibly sneak by, but Paul had also ridden in the exact direction she intended to go. Still, she’d be a fool not to take the opportunity presented to her, especially now that she could hear more clamor coming from the courtyard. It wouldn’t be long before Father and his men were out searching the fields on foot.

Still keeping low, Katrine quickly made her way to the path that stretched between the middle and upper fields. Peeking to her right, she saw Paul riding back down one of the far rows in a distant middle plot and breathed a sigh of relief. He wouldn’t see her crossing now. Once more bundling the front of her dress as tight as she could, the young woman rushed across that open stretch and ducked behind a row of clean picked vines as quickly as she could. The rows of grapevines in this first plot ran perpendicular to the one she’d just come from, allowing them to better follow the downward curve of this particular portion of the slope.

Katrine was about to breathe a sigh of relief and keep going, but that sigh stuck in her throat when a shout came from below.

“Count Bertoli, I see her!”

It was one of Father’s guards. Katrine could see him through the vines, dressed in the red and white of their house and calling for Father, who hurried up to meet him. Looking further afield, she saw that Paul had stopped as well. All were looking in her direction. The young woman felt the warmth drain from her face. Tension formed in her chest right around her heart, as if someone had entrapped it in a hard stone ring. Primal dread filled her mind. It was of the sort children sometimes  feel when the full weight of the consequences for their misbehavior looms over them. She didn’t know what Mother would do to her for pulling this idiotic stunt, but she knew well enough that Father wouldn’t be able to deflect this time.

So Katrine did the only thing she could think of in that moment; she firmly gripped the hiked bell of her dress and ran as hard as she possibly could!

Down below, she heard Father call her name. He’d be running, too, doubtless pushing himself as hard as she was. She didn’t dare look back, though. She couldn’t bear to see the look of disappointment he surely wore. From Mother, those looks had become normal. She was rigid in her ways, a firm believer in the Riverran aristocratic traditions that clearly delineated the roles men and women held within their families. Yet she had not one, but two daughters who tried to eschew that role, and with the choice Katrine just made, both of those daughters had quite literally tried to run away from their duties. Disappointment and frustration from her weren’t pleasant things to face, but they were expected.

Father, though? He’d always been the understanding one, beaming with pride over the fact that one of his daughters wanted to follow in his footsteps! And not just his, but those of his parents as well. Too late did Katrine realize the dagger of betrayal she’d cut him with by doing this. Too late did she realize what she threatened to throw away by incurring Mother’s anger.

Yet she couldn’t simply stop, not with escape so near! She just needed to reach the end of this plot and just a bit further! Then she’d cross into the treeline and escape into the Blackwood! From there she’d be able to pick her way through to find the castle across the way, and she could do so with little fear of pursuit. Well, with less fear of it, at least. Paul and his guards would have a harder time tracking her on their horses through the densely packed wood. It wouldn’t be impossible for them, but on foot she should be better able to maneuver through the trees and lose them. That was her hope, anyway. Of course, she knew they’d try to stop her before she ever got there. Paul proved that much himself when he called out to her father.

“Worry not, sir! We’ll catch her!” he said as he snapped his reins and set Stelios galloping back up the slope!

More than ever the beat of that black steed’s hooves sounded like the crash of a tempest’s thunderbolts! Katrine’s heart raced just as fiercely in her chest. It hammered against the tightness that surrounded it and brought fire into each of her panting breaths! She was a little over halfway through the long plot now. Still she didn’t dare look at the others, though she heard Paul drawing ever closer. Before she even finished the next quarter, she saw him coming up out of the corner of her eye. Soon he’d block her way, then she truly would be trapped. She slowed, mind racing. What could she do to still make her escape?

The one saving grace she could think of was how narrow the spacing between the rows of grapevines was. Stelios was a strong and beautiful young stallion. He might even be young enough to still be a colt. Regardless of his age, the horse was of a rather large size, and these rows of vines weren’t planted with riders in mind. Rather, they were planted in such a way as to allow the workers to have the rows on either side of the paths within arms reach, making each path just two paces wide. Paul might be able to ride Stelios between the rows, but to turn him around?

She knew what to do now. As Paul rode up to block the way out of that row, Katrine climbed on top of the wooden frame that supported the vines. Even under her meager weight the wood creaked, clearly not meant to support a grown person. That was fine, all it needed to do was hold out long enough for her to hop to the next one, then hop down to the path on the other side.

Stelios’ hooves thudded again. Paul was riding down the path towards her, not at the full gallop he had been, but still moving at a swift canter. Katrine’s breaths came swift and sharp as he approached and the frame shifted just a little beneath her, making her wobble.

“Careful, miss Katrine,” Paul said, doing his best to keep his voice soft and soothing. “We don’t want you hurt now. Why not climb down from there?”

He wasn’t the only one calling to her. She heard Father and the guards throughout, and now Mother and Janette joined their din. Still panting, still wobbling, she gave Paul a sharp look. He was smiling. It was a crooked expression that betrayed his nerves. Whether those nerves were caused by her stunt or he held his own misgivings about the arranged meeting, she couldn’t say. Regardless, as he slowed his approach, he held a hand out to her.

“Please, before you fall,” he said. “We’ll ride back together. I promise, Stelios rides quite gently.”

He never got to finish that sentence. Before he was close enough to grab her, Katrine hopped over to the next frame! Paul’s expression twisted into one of shock and concern and even knowing it was too late, he couldn’t help calling out for her to wait. Perhaps she should’ve listened, both to him and the creaking of the frame beneath her, for when she landed on the other frame not only did she completely miss with one foot, but she slipped as the one she did land on cracked the frame beneath her. With a yelp she tumbled forward, landing on her side in the middle of the firm packed dirt path.

“Katrine!” Paul cried, his voice full of genuine concern. She didn’t answer. He cursed a most ungentlemanly thing beneath his breath, then told Stelios to stand and wait for him as he started to dismount.

It was only when Katrine heard him start to slip his leg over his saddle that she shoved herself back to her feet and started running again. Paul cursed again as he scrambled onto his saddle again, given away by the dull jingle of the saddle’s steel stirrups. This time, she did dare a glance back. Paul watched her with a mix of disbelief and determination as he took the reins again, but she could see that he realized her trick. As she’d hoped, the rows were too close together for Stelios to turn around. He’d have to ride all the way down to the far end, then turn and ride all the way back to catch her!

Realistically speaking, that wasn’t very far for a horse like Stelios. However, by the time Paul was situated again she’d already passed well into the final quarter of the plot! If she kept running as hard as she could, she should be able to pass the treeline into the Blackwood well before Paul reached her!

Katrine’s lungs burned with effort and the gentle beating of her slippers against the soil felt far harder than they truly were. Hoofbeats sounded again, rapidly growing quieter as the distance between them increased. It didn’t take long at all for that to change, though. Soon the hoofbeats and rumbling grunts of Stelios’ own effort started to grow progressively louder, and a quick glance back showed that as she neared the final few steps of her flight through the vineyard, Paul was already halfway up her same path. But the forest was close now. Just one last dash and she’d be through the treeline!

Heart racing, lungs aching, Katrine grit her teeth and pushed herself even harder than she had been! Her thighs and calves burned against the cooling air of late afternoon and her cloak snapped and plumed as she ran. Just a little more, but Paul was almost on her! She could hear her family and his guards calling out to them, begging both to stop! She wouldn’t, and neither would he so long as she continued to run. And run she did, straight past the treeline and into the shadowy darkness of the Blackwood!

It was amazing how quickly the cries of her family faded into the distance. Perhaps they were blocked out by the closeness of the trees? No, more likely it was that they were drowned out by Stelios because though Katrine hoped he would stop soon after she came in, Paul followed her relentlessly. He was persistent, she’d give him that much. Still, she wasn’t about to give up on this last shot at freedom, this last chance to learn the secrets of that little red castle hidden beneath the cloudy skirts of the Castle in the Clouds!

Katrine ducked under low branches and weaved behind closely growing trees. On more than one occasion her cloak or dress caught onto some bristly bush or low dead branch, leaving fresh tears in both the simple linen of her cloak and the fine silk of her dress. Not that it was particularly fine anymore, stained with dirt and sweat as it now was. However, in spite of all the difficulty she was giving him, Paul refused to give up the chase! He led Stelios on, constantly turning him down some new path that allowed him to stay on her tail!

“Just leave me be!” she huffed as she scrambled over a tall boulder, slipping through the skinny gap between it and a nearby cedar.

“As you wish, my lady!” he called back, maneuvering Stelios around the tree to block her path. “Just as soon as I get you back to your home!”

“I’m not going back!” Katrine barked, wheeling on her heels to scramble back the way she’d come. As expected, Paul rounded the tree again to block her path. She sprung back down to the opposite side and started running again.

Hissing his frustration, Paul rounded the tree again as Katrine crossed a nearby stream. This forced her to slow more than any other obstacle so far. The stream was shallow but fast moving. If she were to run through its cold waters she could easily trip or have her feet swept from under her and fall in. She had to pick her way along the rocks that lined the edge of a nearby hill, creating a small waterfall in the stream. It was time consuming, and she cursed her decision as she heard Paul gain on her again. By the time she dropped to the opposite side, Stelios was already splashing his way through the stream.

She ran again, breaking for a densely packed cluster of cypress and fir trees, but it was just too far. Paul leapt from his saddle and took Katrine to the ground! They both landed with pained grunts.

“No, no! Let go of me!” Katrine shouted. She twisted and flailed beneath Paul’s weight, managing to drive an elbow into his side.

He grunted in pain, but refused to let go and even managed to roll her onto her back. “We need to go back!” he insisted. “These woods aren’t safe at night!”

Katrine would have none of it. “Go away!” she screamed, and she wrenched an arm free of his grasp. Then she wound back and with all the force she could muster, she struck Paul open palmed across his cheek and ear.

The slap echoed in the otherwise quiet wood, startling crows and robins and filling the air with the flutter of their wings. Paul’s eyes were squeezed shut and his lips curled into a furious sneer! Katrine pulled back to strike him again but he grabbed both her hands by the wrists and pinned her to the forest floor! She squirmed. She writhed! She tried her best to wriggle free of his grip, but though a year younger than she was, he was bigger, stronger, and anger flickered in his brown eyes.

“If I were my father I might bloody your nose for that,” he growled. The side of his face where she’d hit him was already turning a fierce red. Yet, for as mad as he clearly was, he took a deep breath. Then he looked her right in the eyes and, to her great surprise, he let her go and stood.

“Lucky for you, I’m not my father, and don’t believe in raising my hands to a woman,” he said. “Now get up. We need to get back to your home before the wolves come out.”

“I’m not going back,” she said.

“Did you not hear me? There will be wolves out come nightfall! What will you do then? Climb up and hide in a tree the entire night?” Paul countered.

“No,” Katrine began as she rose to her feet. “I’ll be in the castle by then.”

Paul gave a bemused laugh. “The Castle in the Clouds? You can’t be serious.”

“Not that one, no,” she said with a huff. Then she turned and motioned along the upward slope of the forest. “The one on the cliffs just past the blackwood, where the waterfall is.”

“What in the world are you talking about? The Misty Valley has no other castle,” Paul said.

“It does,” Katrine insisted firmly. “You probably couldn’t see it because it’s blanketed by the mist that comes off the Castle in the Clouds, but it’s there. It sits on the cliffs directly across from my family’s home.”

“A home which you should be getting back to,” Paul said.

She shot him an angry glare. “If you want to run back to my family then be my guest,” she snapped, “but I’m not going back. Not until I find out what’s going on inside that castle.”

Paul let out a long and exhausted sigh. “I won’t let you stay out here alone, miss Katrine.”

“So what, then? Are you going to drag me back to my family against my will?” she asked. “Because that’s the only way you’re going to bring me back.”

Paul shook his head. Again, she found herself surprised by him, in particular the look in his eyes. They were sorrowful and conflicted, and she felt a pang of guilt as she realized she’d touched on a sensitive nerve with her insinuation that he’d have to use force on her.

“No,” he finally said, his voice far more level than the emotion his eyes betrayed. “As I said, I won’t raise my hand to a woman and I see little difference between that and forcing you to ride back with me.”

He turned his back on her and grabbed Stelios’ reins. “But since you’ve told me of the one thing I could do to bring you back without force,” he continued, climbing up into his saddle again, “then I might as well give you some protection while helping you see that through.”

Katrine was completely flabbergasted, and she stared up in disbelief at Paul for quite some time. She’d entirely expected him to do something like tie her hands and legs together and throw her on the back of his horse, yet instead he sat upon Stelios with his hand held out to her, waiting for her to take it. She blinked up at him, unsure of what to do. Should she trust him? There was no guarantee he wouldn’t just turn around the first chance he got and he was pursuing her for the exact purpose of bringing her back home, and yet, against all better judgment, she felt like she could trust him. So, likely as much to her own surprise as his, Katrine took his proffered hand and climbed about Stelios behind him.

“So, which way, then?” he asked.

“You’re not just going to bring me straight back to my family?” she replied.

He laughed. “After seeing what you’ve done today I expect you’d leap off Stelios and take off running again if I tried. So, if letting you live out this fantasy of finding a castle that doesn’t exist is what it takes to convince you to return to your home with me, that’s what I’m going to do.”

She was quiet for a long moment, well aware that he was looking over her shoulder at her expectantly. “Thank you,” she finally said.

“You can thank me once we’re away from these woods and the threat of the wolves,” he said. “Now, which way?”

“It’s over…” Her words drifted off hardly after they’d begun. She looked to her left, then to her right, scanning the ground and the trees all around. Again her heart began to race as the problem she’d made for herself finally struck her: she was lost.

“I don’t know,” she stammered.

“Highfather have mercy on us,” Paul groaned. “You came running into the Blackwood scant hours before dark without knowing how to find your way?”

“I’ve never done something like this before!” Katrine snapped back.

“Trust me, that’s quite obvious,” Paul grumbled. “Alright then, which direction is this secret castle from your house?”

“North, I think,” she said.

“That gives us a direction, at least. You said it’s supposed to be near a waterfall, too, right?” he asked.

Katrine nodded. “The waterfall comes out from underneath the castle. I think it’s part of the Misty River.”

“That would make sense,” Paul said. “The river does flow into the valley from these slopes. In that case, we should be able to find our way if we follow the stream uphill. It should connect back to the river at some point.”

“Paul?” Katrine turned back to look over her shoulder at him. A faint warm smile crossed over her lips. “Thank you.”

This time, Paul didn’t turn the kindness down. Instead he gave her an awkward smile in kind and muttered out a small, “You’re welcome.” Then, only after asking her permission, he wrapped one hand around her waist to hold her secure and snapped Stelios’ reins with the others. With a huff and a neigh, the strong black steed splashed and cantered his way along and through the stream. And as they went, the first howls of the wolves heralded the approach of night.