Authors: Erastes
Now it appeared he had shared that intimate space with Frau von Ratzlaff, and Mathias felt a little queasy at the very idea. It seemed that the blow had done more than just knock memories out of Rudolph’s head, it had changed him almost out of all recognition. The man sitting opposite to Mathias looked like, sounded like Rudolph, but with his talk of family, and his pride in an image of his wife and children, he seemed more of a stranger to Mathias than the innkeeper standing at the bar, chatting to a sullen Goertz.
The next day, once they were all on the road, Rudolph noticed that Goertz seemed a little more taciturn than usual. The batman had been given Hofmann’s second mount to ride, a dappled dark gray gelding with a broad chest and a calm disposition. It suited him much better than either of Rudolph’s spares, both of which were slightly too rambunctious for the surly batman, and both of which he hated to ride. The horse plodded quietly behind Rudolph and Hofmann, letting Goertz concentrate on keeping control of the other three horses he was leading.
An odd awkwardness settled between himself and Hofmann, something stilted which seemed to continue over from the night before. Rudolph had hoped that, upon acquaintance—or at least re-acquaintance on his part—Hofmann would thaw, especially after a night’s drinking together. But it seemed that Hofmann was a quiet man, and more than once, when Rudolph glanced over to catch a glance of his companion, he was surprised to see such a stern look of contemplation that he wondered if Hofmann wasn’t regretting the journey. Whilst he had been waiting for him over breakfast, when the younger man didn’t at first appear, Rudolph had wondered whether Hofmann had changed his mind about accompanying him. When he did arrive, clattering down the open wooden stairs and going straight out to the stables with barely a nod, Rudolph had been convinced that he would be riding to Berlin alone.
He was therefore rather taken by surprise to find Hofmann and his horses ready to join them when they set out. He was also mildly startled by the jolt of warmth he felt on seeing Hofmann again. It was a familiar feeling, almost the first he’d had since reawakening the day before. Starting as a flutter in the stomach, which warmed from the inside and then slid, insidiously, to the groin. But he pushed the feeling away and, as they rode away together, let the unwarranted reactions of his body become subsumed by the more pressing need of keeping his horse under control. His charger, Blücher, was full of his oats, and it seemed the great horse was under the impression he was off to a battle, having been deprived of one the day before.
Gradually the jogging, sidestepping horse calmed and was persuaded to a sensible traveling pace alternating between walking and trotting. Only Blücher’s impatient head-tossing revealed his annoyance that he wasn’t allowed to race Hofmann’s black stallion. It was only as the horses calmed and they rode together side by side that Rudolph became aware of the silent discomfort between Hofmann and himself. Try as he might, he couldn’t, in the sober light of day, find anything to speak about for any length, and it seemed rather selfish to ask the young man yet again for more information on his own life in the past two years. So they rode for an hour or two in relative silence, interspersed with warnings about potholes.
Around midday he turned in his saddle and caught a fleeting expression of real pain on Hofmann’s face. He remembered his companion’s injury—the man rode so well it was easy to miss. Examining the man with the keen eye of a commander, he could see how Hofmann was sitting, stiff and unyielding to his off-side. His gaze traveled down the man’s wounded arm, now out of its sling whilst riding. Dark blood, still wet, stained his cuff.
Rudolph reined Blücher to a halt and turned in the road to face his batman. “You have the map, Goertz. I think we should halt at the next village so you can have a look at Herr Hofmann’s injury.”
“No, really,” Hofmann replied. “My batman strapped me up well. I’ll last the day.”
“I insist,” Rudolph said. “And you may no longer be in uniform, but you’ll just have to take my orders.” He touched Blücher with his knee, making the horse spin around as he addressed Hofmann. “We want to make good time—I have no desire for our progress to be noted any more than it no doubt is. Some Prussian-hating sniper could be lying in wait for us—but if your wound isn’t looked after, we’ll all travel slower in the end. We’ll stop at the next village.”
From the very first league, Mathias found the journey almost unendurable. He was beginning to doubt the sanity of his actions—was it sensible to hope? To trail along with a lover who might as well be dead to him, when every word from his mouth, every glance he threw his way, felt like knives in the heart? Rudolph’s eyes were alight with a wealth of expressions—concern, curiosity, even now and then a touch of fear, perhaps worry that his memories would never return—but Mathias would have cut his injured arm off at the socket to see again the one intimate look that they had once shared. There was nothing to be done. If the doctors in Berlin could do something—or if by some miracle something changed on the road—that was the best he could hope for.
Time and again while riding beside Rudolph, he’d almost convinced himself he should just tell the man the truth. He could wait until Goertz nodded asleep, as he was so wont to do, ride a little closer, so his knee rubbed against Rudolph’s, and say…what, though?
“It’s funny, Rudolph, but would you believe it, you and I have been lovers since the night we met. Not a regimental dinner, but some low bar in Danzig filled with horny sodomists—just like you and me.”
But nothing could make him say those words now, and what would happen if Rudolph didn’t wish to start a relationship a second time? The spark they’d shared seemed entirely missing from Rudolph. Mathias had never quite believed his luck that this handsome, privileged, carefree man, who had so much and gave it freely, had ever wanted him for more than a fuck—or two. But he had, and it had taken them eighteen months to come to the life-changing decision to run away from everything they held dear—the Regiment, Rudolph’s children, his fortune and both their reputations. Eighteen months of gradual realization that the union of bodies they’d begun with, the release and mutual satisfaction, had turned to something that neither of them ever wanted to give up.
But to desert Rudolph now would be worse than cowardice. Worse than leaving the Regiment. He’d felt nothing walking away from von Tümpling, but he was quite sure he couldn’t walk away and leave Rudolph behind. What if the memory returned and Mathias wasn’t there when it did? Rudolph would never understand why Mathias had abandoned him.
Anyway, Mathias had all but promised that he would pass on to Rudolph’s wife what the doctor had said. Even if she had, as Mathias assumed, received word of his return by telegraph, or maybe a letter was traveling somewhere ahead of them, Mathias knew his duty.
Rudolph would do the same for me
.
As much as I do not wish to meet Rudolph’s family, and especially his wife, I must do this.
So, lost in his own thoughts, and arguing the points back and forth, he knew he was less than an ideal traveling companion, and far less communicative than Rudolph liked. When Rudolph took control, he was so much like his old self—riding roughshod over others’ objections but doing it for good reasons—that Mathias could hardly believe the man he knew was gone. The thought of stopping came as a bit of a relief, truth be told—his arm and side were very painful. Moreover, he hadn’t checked on the dressings the night before and they needed cleaning at the very least. So he gave in to Rudolph’s order, grateful the concern was there, if nothing else.
Goertz said there was a village ahead, and there was, much like the half dozen or so they’d passed already. Like the others, this one was half-deserted, and what people there were on the street hustled away at the sound of hooves. None of the inhabitants would even look the men in the eyes. As they neared the village’s only inn, the sound of trotting horses sounded from ahead and they just managed to get their own mounts to one side before a group of hussars clattered past—from the Twelfth, Mathias guessed, from the brief flash of the uniforms—a gun carriage bouncing behind them.
They handed their horses to the inn’s hostler. Mathias stood a moment in the doorway, wondering what was happening back down the road to be causing so much haste. The inn was even more impoverished than the one in Gitschin. The main room showed sure signs of troops having treated it roughly. The tables were badly notched, the walls were spattered with sword cuts and gunshot, and, judging by the innkeeper’s surly and suspicious nature, it seemed likely that he’d seen enough of soldiers to last him a lifetime.
Rudolph took charge and, by the time Mathias joined him in the bar, he’d ordered hot water, linens and any spirits they could lay their hands on. The expression on the innkeeper’s face softened a little at the sight of Rudolph’s purse, brandished liberally by Goertz, and although they hadn’t asked for any, some bread and wine were produced, along with the items asked for.
“Now, let’s get that wound looked at.” He turned Mathias in the chair and started to undo the buttons on his jacket. The familiar action, the closeness of Rudolph, the feel of his hands were almost more than Mathias could stand, but he bit the inside of his cheek and stared at the wall as if he were a man embarrassed at the proximity. Rudolph handed the jacket to Goertz and then peeled the shirt and undershirt away.
“Goertz.” Rudolph ordered the his batman to take his place, and any warm feelings for the nearness for another man dissolved as Goertz’s scarred face loomed a little too close to his own.
“Your shirt’s soaked in blood,” Rudolph said. “
Gottverdammt,
man, what were you thinking?”
“Needs stitches,” Goertz said.
“I can see that,” Rudolph snapped. “This hellhole isn’t likely to have anything useful—or if it did, the army would have stripped it bare. Go ask if there’s a doctor in the town, perhaps he has something we can use. Otherwise, we’ll have no choice but to strap him up again and rest until he heals.”
“Rud—” Mathias stopped. “Von Ratzlaff. I’ve ridden with worse. Hellsfire, you’ve gone into battle with worse. Just—”
“It’s a good few days’ ride to Dresden,” Rudolph said, his demeanor every bit as commanding as when he rode along the line of horses, extolling his men to death or glory. “And that’s the first place we can get you properly seen to, I’m guessing.” From the street, the noise of horses and gun carriages could be clearly heard.
“I’m no longer under your command, von Ratzlaff, if you’ll pardon the lack of respect.” Mathias reached for the sponge, dipped it into the spirit-diluted water and applied it to his arm, wincing as he did so. “I’m in no hurry, and there’s no need at all for you to delay your journey if you think I’ll slow you down.”
Rudolph chuckled, making Mathias look up at the familiar sound. Rudolph was looking down at him with a glance of faint amusement, his moustaches twitching in a delightful way. “Just as well you aren’t, you cheeky bugger,” he said. “For I’d thrash you myself for taking such risks to yourself.” He sat beside Mathias and took the sponge away, after a brief tussle which ended when Rudolph gave Mathias the full weight of his steely glare, the one Mathias always obeyed, no matter what.
I wish emotions could be turned on and off like a pump,
he thought helplessly, closing his eyes as Rudolph, with surprising gentleness, swabbed at his wounds.
I wish I could fall from my horse and forget him the way he’s forgotten me.
The pain to his side was considerable, and the water was red before Rudolph was halfway finished.
Goertz arrived just as Rudolph was asking for the third pot of water.
“What did you find?” Rudolph asked.
“He had some catgut hidden away,” Goertz grumbled. “Parted with it eventually, although it cost as much as several of your wife’s cats, I’m sure.”
“What do you need?”
“Nothing, just some room to work and a flame for the needle. Herr Hofmann, sir, this is going to hurt like buggery, so if you want something in your mouth, then say now.”
Mathias shook his head. “Just
schnaps.
”
“Good man,” Rudolph said encouragingly.
“You’ll need to hold his arm still, sir,” Goertz said to Rudolph. “It’s a nasty one, and deep. I want to get it right the first time.”
Mathias took as large a draft of the
schnaps
as he could, then gritted his teeth. He nodded to Rudolph, who took hold of his hand and wrist and held them down with all his weight. For a few blissful seconds, Mathias enjoyed the feel of Rudolph’s hands on his bare flesh, then all the pleasure was razed in a white-hot fire of pain as Goertz’s needle sliced into the flesh of his upper arm and dragged the edges of the cut together. Mathias hissed through his teeth, saliva spitting from his mouth as he fought against his reaction to the pain.
He looked up and caught Rudolph’s eyes and found them bright and every bit as full of life as ever he’d seen them, concern etched on every line of his handsome face. By the time Goertz finished with his arm, all three of them were sweating, and Mathias felt as if he’d been in an hour’s duel with a deadly opponent.
“I think your side will do as it is, sir,” Goertz said, after he’d bandaged Mathias’s arm and examined the cut on his torso. “It’s nowhere near as deep and it’s not bleeding much now. We can keep an eye on it. Happen both of them will need maggoting before the week is out.”
Rudolph gave a hollow chuckle. “Well, at least that’s one commodity we won’t have difficulty finding. Bandage him up, Goertz. Well done, Hofmann. I think you can finish that bottle, you’ve earned it. Although I doubt we’ll see more of it here.” He walked to the door and Mathias tried to struggle to his feet, only to be forcibly pushed back into his seat by Goertz.
“You stay put. You’ve done enough damage,” the batman said in an undertone, quiet enough to make sure Rudolph didn’t hear.
Mathias was so shocked by Goertz’s words that he only managed to call out, as Rudolph pulled the door open. “You shouldn’t go out alone.”
“You do as you’re told,” Rudolph said, and left without saying anything further, leaving Mathias to stew and worry as Goertz finished with the bandaging.
Rudolph leaned against a rickety fence and let himself examine his feelings. He’d been taken by surprise at the level of concern he was feeling for his new friend’s injury. At first, as Goertz had revealed the slice on the young man’s arm, Rudolph had been merely worried that they would be delayed, or perhaps, at worst, he’d be forced to leave Hofmann behind and continue on to Dresden with only his batman for company. But now he knew that somehow, in the past few hours, something else had crept into his mind, and it was no longer a matter of losing a traveling companion.