The morning had been one of calm and wondrous delight, and I hadn't felt the need to change anything.
I couldn't honestly call Krystyana beautiful, but she was certainly pretty. She had lovely long blond hair that was draped over my shoulders. It went well with her lightblue eyes and blond, almost unnoticeable eyebrows and lashes. Her nose was perhaps a little too long, her mouth was too wide, and her teeth were not good, but there was nothing ugly about her. I mentioned that she was tall, but only in comparison to the others. Now her head was at shoulder level and her stretchedout toes brushed my shins. Her body was slender and most acceptable. She looked younger than I had thought last night. Perhaps she was sixteen.
I found out later that she was fourteen, the usual age of marriage among the people of Okoitz.
'Sir Conrad, this is the most amazing knot work! Do you know how it's made?'
She was staring at my knitted cotton T-shirt. Knot work? I studied it, too. Yes, I suppose you could call those knots. And once you thought of them as being handtied knots, yes, it was amazing.
'I've never thought about it. I suppose I could figure it out.'
'I wish you would. I'd love to do something like this. It's fantastic!'
'You really like my shirt?'
'Oh, yes! Last night I was awfully impressed with that sweater thing you wore, but this is unbelievable. Everything is so tiny''
'Well, if you want it ' it's yours. Merry Christmas.'
'Whee! But you mustn't give our Christmas presents now, Sir Conrad. Christmas presents are for this evening. '
'As you like. This evening, then. For now, why don't you knock off the sir stuff. My friends call me Conrad, or just Con.'
'But that would be most improper, Sir Conrad ! If I hailed you not as a knight but as an ordinary man, why, it would be as though I was sleeping with a man before marriage, and that would be a sin.'
I was confused. 'You aren't married, are you?'
'Of course not!' She was shocked.
'Our... customs seem to be different. Could you please explain to me-slowly as you would to a child-just what it is that you are talking about?'
She gave me a 'mere man' look but said 'You are a belted knight. I am an unmarried wench and not of the nobility. You have the right to take any such unmarried woman who attracts you. Therefore, I have an obligation to do as you please. If one is performing an obligation, one cannot possibly be sinning. But for me to wantonly copulate out of wedlock ' that would be at least a venial sin.' It was the most incredible series of rationalizations- based on the right to rape!--I had ever heard.
'I have the right to take any peasant girl I want?' Accepting the favors of a lady who climbs into one's bed is one thing. Forcibly taking any woman in the fields is quite another, and not for Conrad Schwartz, thank you!
'Not only a right, Sir Conrad, but a duty! 'Sir' means sire,' you know. Not one man in a hundred becomes a knight, and the realm needs the children of such heroes.'
Charles Darwin in a wheelbarrow! Knighthood as a eugenic program to improve the species? 'But it was- you who came to me.'
'Nonsense, Sir Conrad. I merely Jay down for some sleep. It was you who took me. If I made myself more accessible, why, it was only to save some other wench who might be less inclined. Therefore, it doubles my virtue.'
What an amazing ball of tangled justifications! Good, though. I leaned back to ponder it all. She leaned forward to get at the window and hit the sore spots on my arm and shoulder. I winced loudly.
'I'm sorry, Sir Conrad. I forgot your wounds.' She jumped out of bed and opened an oil-covered parchment window that let in a little light but no sight. She really had an excellent body, willowy yet rounded. 'It's a wonderful day! Clear blue sky with not a cloud. But it's late! We've missed mass, and on Christmas day! And look! That steam! They're already quenching the sauna. Hurry or we'll be late!'
I sat up in bed and started fumbling for my clothes. There was absolutely no heat in the room!
'No. No, silly.' She kneeled at my feet, yanked off my socks, and threw them any which way. She pulled off my T-shirt; this she folded neatly and set aside. Then she grabbed me by the hand and pulled me out the door and down the stairs. I was cold, naked, and embarrassed, but I followed her through the kitchen and out the back door to the end of a line of naked people running over cold whiteness. The snow on either side of us was more than a meter deep, but a path had been shoveled to the sauna.
Somehow, I had always thought of the sauna as a Scandinavian custom that had spread only in modem times, but there it was. Perhaps the problem is that I had always assumed that my ancestors were all stem, heroic types and that my grandmother was a virgin.
This sauna was different from any I had seen before. It was a brick dome with walls well over a meter thick. A small hole vented smoke at the top, and a tiny door opened at the side. To heat it, a roaring pinewood fire was kept burning inside for four hours. Then the fire was quenched and after a few minutes for the smoke to clear, the customers ran in. Once heated, the sauna stayed hot all day.
I was handed a board by the attendant. I followed Krystyana's bottom through the door, except that she only had to stoop while I had to crawl through the tiny opening.
The door closed behind me, and the smoke hole was plugged. I was enveloped in heat and darkness. Someone took my arm and led me to a place to sit down. My butt touched the hot bricks, and I jerked upward, hitting my head on the low ceiling. Someone placed my board on the brick shelf and sat me on it. As my eyes adjusted, I made out an oil lamp.
Dim shapes took form around me. We were in a room shaped like an arena that could have seated fifty, if they were friendly, but I counted only eight plus myself. They were friendly anyway. A windburned man with dark blond hair sat across from me-last night's gateman, Sir Miesko. The other man I hadn't met. He was a handsome muscular sort about my own age. He was tall, as the locals went, and blond, much blonder than 1. In the twentieth century I would have suspected him of bleaching his hair. Ilona and a woman I hadn't met were sitting on either side cuddled under his powerful arms and happy. A third woman was rubbing the muscles of his neck and shoulders.
Krystyana and Janina were sitting next to me, and Natalia sat by Sir Miesko.
We were all nude. The sight of those healthy bodies was delightful, but there is nothing sexy about female skin in a sauna. At these high temperatures, the gallant reflex does not take place
Following the blond man's example, I spread my arms' and the ladies snuggled close to me. I noticed that Sir Miesko still had his hands on his knees.
'Sir Conrad,' he said, 'You must realize that to have the right to do something is one thing. To be able to get away with it is quite another.'
The blond man laughed. 'Sir Miesko, you astound me with your valor in battle and your meekness in wedlock. You had best take the advice of the Holy Church and never strike your wife with a stick longer than the distance from your fingertip to your elbow, nor bigger around than your thumb. Then take my advice and never use anything less! And often, Sir Miesko, to ensure your bliss, marital and otherwise.'
'Your advice is always welcome, my lord, though it may be that I will state certain facts at tonight's festival.' He grinned.
'Hah! That my wife chooses to stay in Hungary and I support her there? Well met, Sir Miesko.'
He turned to me. 'And this must be the noble giant, Sir Conrad Stargard, who comes from a mysterious land not to be mentioned, decked with mystic equipment.' His eyes twinkled, and he smiled. 'A man who defeats bandits and highwaymen in droves and captures vast booty! A man who rescues maidens of the tenderest of ages, grabs them from the clutches of death and merchants, and at great personal peril transports them to safety! And a man who, exhausted from fighting the forces of evil and brute nature, still has sap enough in him to keep Krystyana here smiling all morning as she hasn't smiled in months.' Krystyana threw a wet cedar branch at him, but he took no notice of it. 'I trust that those wounds and bruises are the result of honest battle and were not received from the calm ministrations of our gentle Krystyana.' A fistful of wet branches flew.
'Noble Sir Conrad, I am delighted to meet you and honored by your presence. Know that I am Count Lambert Piast and that I welcome you to Okoitz.'
I started to rise. It was blindingly hot, and sweat cascaded off me. But on my first day in this century, I had been bashed on the head for not adhering to the proper forms of courtesy. I had determined to learn them all and
