Chapter 7

It was 1038 in the Years of Our Lord. It was a cold and blustery October day. The rain came down in swirling spats and swept through the entire length of the wagon. Then it would stop and the sky would change color, becoming brighter, promising a bit of sunny respite from the chill. Then the sky would become angry again and spit more rain down for the wind to blow through the wagon.

Katrina was wrapped in a heavy blanket now damp from the uncertain weather. She sat, partially sheltered, behind the seat of her common-law husband, Gyorgy Gyoffrysun. (George Jefferson? Really?)

A bow and several arrows lay on the bed of the food-laden wagon by her feet. There was more uncertainty in the district recently because of the untimely death of the good King Styphyn, who left no heir to the throne. Throughout all Romanya, there was a feeling of civil unrest and coming upheaval. There were no king's patrols now, and merchants gathered in ever-larger caravans for protection against armed bands of thieves and brigands.

Katrina was lost in reverie, her mind wandering aimlessly through memories of her last seven hundred years. At least, that was how long she estimated it had been since she was cast down from heaven. Of course, Gyorgy, her husband, knew nothing of her history. The fact that she could speak fluent Latin, Greek and Aramaic made her an invaluable assert to his clan when it came to trading for goods, but personally, he could care less about her past.

In the last two hundred years, Katrina had lived several lives. Having been purchased and made part of the household of a local chieftain named Arpad, approximately a hundred and fifty years earlier, she was traveling to rejoin his family when their caravan was attacked and overrun. She was captured and taken as a prize.

Later, the group who had enslaved her was itself overrun and slaughtered to a man, including her. Several days after she was run through with a sword and left for dead, she woke up and fled, starved and half-naked. She found herself in the Pyrenees, and was befriended by local peasants, who took her in and gave her the name Electra, after a mythological goddess who had fled Mount Olympus to avoid an arranged marriage.

Several years later, when Carpathians overran that region, she found herself once again in Transylvania, taken as a prize of war and was eventually sold to become a member of a Captain's household. The captain served a local lord called Duke Geza.

After spending several miserable years locked into a single room for the cruel captain's amusement, she found herself deserted and forgotten for several weeks. When someone finally discovered her, unconscious and near dead from starvation, she was nursed back to health and informed that her master had been killed in a battle. She was once again put on the auction block; this time to be liquefied as part of her master's personal assets to reimburse huge gambling debts that he had accumulated.

Her new master, appreciative of her Aryan beauty despite the fact that she looked half-starved, put her to work in the world's oldest profession. From there, using her sensual mind-merging abilities, she easily found someone willing to risk life and limb to aid her escape.

On her second day of freedom, as they fled north into more civilized territory, the lovers were set upon and murdered by a roving band of thieves and she was once again left for dead at the side of a road.

That was where Gyorgy had found her and nursed her back to health. When she was herself again, she discovered that, during her delirium, she had told him her name was Katherine. She didn't ever remember being a Katherine, but Gyorgy insisted and named her Katrina, a name that was to her liking.

As a reward for rescuing her, Katrina shared her lovemaking abilities with him, enamoring him to her for life. When he brought her home to his clan, she was welcomed with open arms. Although the Rom, as they called themselves, were very clannish and kept track of each family's history back to the golden days of the Roman Empire, inter-tribal marriage amongst other peoples was strongly encouraged. They believed it made them more vital as a people.

Suddenly jerked fully alert, Katrina sensed something was happening. Leaving her warm blanket behind, she gathered up her bow and arrow and crawled through to the back of the wagon. Her movement alerted Gyorgy to be more observant as well, so between the two of them, any danger would be spotted, no matter from which direction it came.

After several minutes of intense alertness, Katrina relaxed a little. Nothing seemed to be happening. A movement in the sky attracted her attention. She looked up. Two huge birds of prey were flying overhead. The larger of the two seemed to be chasing the smaller one.

The strangeness of their shapes caused her to look closer. 'They have legs! They must be angels! I've been forgiven and they've been sent to search me out and bring me home!'

With a cry of joy, Katrina leaped from the back of the rumbling wagon and ran toward them as they flew away, crying out to them in the language of the gods.

"Wait! I'm here! Take me with you!" she cried out in joy as she ran. "I'm ready to come home!" Then the larger angel caught the smaller and they both vanished.

"No!" Katrina screamed, her joy turned into bitter anguish that stabbed deep into her soul.

She tripped and fell face down into the brush alongside the road. By the time Gyorgy got to her, she was kneeling on the ground, racked with great sobs, her spirit completely broken at last.

Gyorgy finally got his wife back into the wagon. She was incoherent and inconsolable, babbling and sobbing words in a language he'd never heard before. 'That must be her native tongue. Perhaps, if the clan elders know what it is, we can find out where she came from; where her true home is... '

Days passed. Katrina was now in the care of Gyorgy's grandmother, who knew the lore of herbs and potions.

"The language she speaks in her delirium is a Germanic derivation," she surmised. "Perhaps she comes from the strange land across the sea – the old land of the Druids. I shall think greatly on the matter.

"In time," she continued, "your Katrina may recover from her madness, but I believe her spirit is in great peril. It is evident that she no longer wishes to live. I will do what I can to help her regain her soul."