Chapter 1

The carriage moved swiftly along the tree lined roadway, the horses pulling in muscular coordination while the driver raised his coat collar to help ward off a chill which could not be totally accounted for by the setting sun and lengthening shadows.

His thoughts briefly flashed to his passengers as an occasional word drifted up to him from the passenger compartment. The old crone he had known for years, "Old Mary" everyone called her. An uglier woman never lived and age itself had been unkind, giving her a bent stature and decided limp. Not the kindliest of sorts either. She seemed forever busy pursuing the acquisition of coins of gold, whether by means legal or otherwise. He wondered why she was accompanying the young girl.

Ah yes, the girl -- hair the color of golden honey and eyes so full of youth, so full of wonder, so full of uncertainty. A beautiful, if frightened creature. He knew nothing of her except what Old Mary had told him. Her name was Adrienne, she had just come of age, an orphan and was being given employment at Castle Vagnor.

Again a chill. Silly of him. This mid-European September afternoon carried no real coolness, yet the thought of his destination was enough for him to whip the reins, urging the horses onward so he might deliver his passenger and return before darkness approached.

He though how odd it was, the way he and the other villagers felt about the residents of the castle. The Baron, after all, provided employment for some of the locals and paid very fair wages too. Why, he had even given employment to poor Katrina, the village mute. Such a pretty girl, shunned by the superstitious villagers until the Baron gave her the job of housekeeper. Now the foolish girl had run off with a gypsy. Ah well, would young people never learn when they were well off. Anyway, that was certainly not the fault of the Baron who had looked elsewhere only when no one in the village expressed interest in Katrina's vacated position.

Then, there was the Baroness, the most beautiful woman he had ever seen. She commanded the attention of every man, and the envy of every woman, in the village. Her infrequent shopping trips were occasions for wide-eyed ogling and clumsy stumbling as the village men tripped over each other trying to do slight favors which might be rewarded with a slight smile and a thank you and, unfortunately, by the irate furor of their jealous wives.

And finally, there was Steffan. The young man possessed a precocity far beyond his years. He was of the same dark complexion as his parents, a good looking lad with his wavy raven hair. His visits outside the Castle Vagnor were even less frequent than his mother's.

A stately family and yet, there was something... something! The chill this time was down his back. Perhaps it was their eyes, the way they seemed, at times, to look through you, to glimpse what was inside -- thoughts and feelings you wanted to remain private. Or maybe it was the slight upturn at the corners of the mouth which gave the impression of omniscience and of barely bridled power -- a total confidence exhibited in no one else he had ever met.

He shook himself. Nonsense! These ominous feelings were probably just envy. After all, if he were that rich, he would probably acquire a rather superior air as well.

Just the same, generous payment notwithstanding, he would be glad to complete his task and be on his way. Another switch of the reins and the horses picked up the pace while the voice of the old woman passenger carried out the open window and upon the fleeing wind.