I:

I:

Hungry

Christine stared down at the parchment of paper in front of her. It was blank. She had been hovering over it for an hour, trying to think of what to write, but nothing had come out. It was a letter to her family; her mother and father and brothers and sisters. She had not written them in several months and knew if she didn't soon they'd begin to worry. The problem was that she didn't know what to write.

How was she supposed to tell her family that she was miserable? How could she tell them that she hated her life and hated her husband? She had nothing worth anything in her life. She couldn't tell them that they were wrong and responsible for her misery. She'd be lucky if they ever spoke to her again after such a confession. But she couldn't lie. She couldn't tell them she was happy when she wasn't, or that she loved her life when she didn't. Christine had always made it a point in her life to never lie, that is, until she got married.

She had gotten married two years ago when she had been fifteen. Her present husband was a very wealthy baron who had offered her father vast amounts of wealth and land, as well as political connections, for her hand. Greedily, her father had agreed and given her over, like a possession. Within weeks her father had had her sent to her then future husband's home and had her married. She had only met her husband once before she was forced to marry him. He had been forty-three, slightly rotund, pompous, and not attractive in any way. Needless to say, she had not been excited to start her new life with him.

Now they had been married two years; two long, unhappy years. Between being angry at her for not producing an heir and not being a pleasure to be around, her husband wasn't satisfied with her. He had even stopped summoning her to his bed and taken to maids instead. Christine was fine with this, however. She loathed sexual relations with her husband and had lived in constant anxiety in their first months of marriage. Their consummation had been painful and unpleasant and it hadn't gotten any better after that.

Although Christine no longer had to really worry about sleeping with her husband, she had to face the long, tedious hours of her life alone. She had few friends in the castle and her husband was never around (which was probably for the best since he was terrible company). She was forced to sleep long hours to take up the time and have something to do. Then she read or floated around the house, hoping to do some of her duties as mistress of the castle. She was rarely needed, though, and often told not to worry herself.

So what did she have to do? She was a young, lonely wife with a terrible husband and no outlet for enjoyment or her intelligence. All those years of perfecting her Latin and French and studying had been in vain. She was of no use in her husband's household. Could she honestly tell her family that? Could she even admit such an embarrassing fact out loud?

Christine pushed the letter away and decided to forgo it for the time being. Even though she had nothing else to fill her time she didn't want to work on the letter now.

Christine did have one friend in the castle that she could talk to. The young maidservant Meg was pleasant company and provided Christine an escape when she wasn't working. She chattered endlessly, gossiping and spilling salacious details about the town or the castle. Christine enjoyed the company and the mindless fun. Being around Meg was the only time she could laugh or think about something else besides her pitiful life.

Christine went through the dismal castle and headed down to the kitchens where Meg frequently worked. Christine smiled when she saw the blonde, blue-eyed chatterbox baking as she animatedly told a story to one of the cooks.

"Gossiping is a sin, Ms. Meg. I think the Pope would not approve of this kind of behavior."

Meg looked up at Christine's voice and her bright eyes shone with delight.

"Oh, Lady Christine!" she exclaimed before giving Christine a warm hug.

"Where have you been? I've been sitting around for weeks wishing for you to come and see me!" Meg purred.

"I know. I just…You were always busy and I had things to do…"

Meg gave her a look that said she didn't believe her.

Christine laughed. "I'm sorry. You're right. I should have come and seen you."

Meg nodded and smiled brightly. She liked being told she was right.

"Now, let's go back to old ways," Meg said as she took Christine's arm. "I have so much to tell you."

Christine sat and listened aptly as Meg poured over stories of scandal and secrecy in her husband's holding. Meg was a great storyteller and said everything enthusiastically, pausing at the right moments and exaggerating the best parts. Christine felt her heart lighten a little bit as she watched her friend. It was good to laugh again.

"I just know she'll be with child soon," Meg said as she finished off a story. "She bears no heed to our laws or advice. She just flits around."

Christine nodded and chewed idly on a piece of bread that Meg had given her.

'Oh!" Meg suddenly exclaimed. "Did I tell you about the exciting news?"

Christine shook her head.

"Your husband's knights are finally coming home. Now that the war is over they'll return and stay awhile before they go on another adventure."

Christine tensed a little, realizing her husband hadn't bothered to tell her when the staff knew.

"When will they be arriving?" Christine asked.

"In a few days," Meg beamed. "Can you imagine a dozen handsome knights in the castle?"

Christine was a little excited. At least some guests would break the pattern for a few weeks.

()()()()()()()()()()()()()()

Erik wiped his brow wearily as he cantered along on his tired mare. It was bitter cold, nearing night, and the twelfth day of traveling. He and his fellow knights had been going for almost two weeks now, ever since the end of the war with the French. It had been a grueling, long war that had lasted over five years. Five years of constant battle and warfare, harsh weather and living conditions, and no break from the torture of war. They had killed many and lost many; some too young and some old enough to have gone through several wars. It had been strenuous, violent and unyielding. Erik could barely remember the time before the war when he had been a young, barely experienced warrior. And although it had only been five years, he felt twenty years older than his thirty-two years.

He was eager to get back to his lord's holding and settle down. He was tired of fighting and traveling all over Europe. All he wanted now was a wife and children. He had had his share of adventure and danger. He was ready for the simple life.

"How much longer, man?" Rhodrick, his old friend, asked tiredly, his body swaying from fatigue.

Erik helped push his friend up in his saddle. "Not much longer, friend. Maybe a day or two."

"Well, at least tell me we can camp soon."

Erik nodded as he saw the sun fall deeper behind the mountains. "We'll make camp in a few minutes."

That night the eleven knights huddled around a weak fire and tried desperately to sleep, despite the freezing cold that burned their limbs.

Despite the cold and fatigue weighing him down, Erik couldn't sleep, however. He sat up next to the fire, throwing sticks into it, listening to the sounds of the forest. Some of the men were sound asleep while others were still tossing and turning. Arthur and Halebran, two others, were the guards for the night.

"Can't sleep, Erik?" Halebran asked, his arms crossed across his broad chest.

Erik gazed into the fire. "No."

"You miss home?"

"Yeah, I'm ready to get back."

"I'm ready to see my kids," Halebran mused, his eyes shut.

"I'm ready for a young, warm body again," Rhodrick growled from his sack.

The men awake all laughed in agreement.

"It'll be good to bed my wife again," Halebran murmured. "I've gone too long without her."

Erik nodded.

"You finally going to get a bride, Erik?"

He smiled sadly. "I'm going to try to."

Arthur, a younger man, protested. "Don't tell me you're going to chain yourself down now!"

"I've sewn my oats plenty enough," Erik responded. "I'm ready to take wife and have some children. I'm not getting any younger."

"Oh, you've got plenty of time," Rhodrick argued. "I'm almost near my fortieth year and I still haven't married."

"But I'm ready now," Erik retorted. "I just want one woman I can rely on to be there when I come home."

"You say that until you get it," Halebran mumbled.

The men all laughed heartily.

()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()

"Christine! Christine!"

Christine came quickly down the staircase when she heard her husband calling her name. She held her skirts as she came down and looked at him expectantly. From his stance and the tone of his voice she could tell he was not in a patient mood today.

"Yes, my lord?" she answered once she arrived at his feet.

He crossed his arms in annoyance and looked at her sternly. "Where were you? You should always come the moment I call you. I shouldn't have to shout for you twice."

She nodded obediently. "Yes, my lord. I'm sorry. It won't happen again. How can I serve you?"

"My knights, my vassals are expected to arrive tomorrow. I've been doing much preparation for them. They've been gone a long time at war and I want them to come and relax and rest.

"Yes, of course, my lord."

"I don't want you in the way of any of my attendants or servants or the knights when they arrive. You'll be a nuisance if you're around. You'll be expected at dinner every evening, but that is. All other times I don't want you bothering them."

Christine steeled herself against the words and gave a confident nod. "Yes, my lord. I will do anything you wish of me."

He tersely walked away without a word, leaving her standing there.

Christine felt as if her heart had sunk a million feet at her husband's hurtful words, but she wasn't surprised. Her husband never had kind words for her. Any time he spoke to her he was patronizing her or telling her what was wrong with her. Even on her wedding night he had critiqued her and been cold and rude.

Christine slinked back to her room, trying to ignore the looks from the servants and attendants around her who had seen the spectacle. It was terribly embarrassing for them to see her be humiliated again, but she just pretended it had not happened and made her way back to her room where at least she could cry and not be judged.

She shut the door behind her and sagged against it when she was finally alone. This was the only place in the entire castle where she could be safe. Her husband never came to see her and she had sent off all her maids for the afternoon. It was a cold, bare room with merely a bed and a dresser, but it was the only place she could be alone. And although she really hated being alone, it was better than facing her dreadful husband again, or going back down and hearing her servants whisper about her. She knew they all thought she was pitiful and a sad, little girl. She couldn't blame them. She thought the same of herself.