FÖRE TRAGEDIN
before the tragedy
Lena squirmed, whining in a way that sounded more like the yowl of a cat and dodging a slap from the physician. Her father grabbed her rather forcibly by the arms, holding her still and scowling into her eyes for a moment. "Lena," he said slowly, "this will not do. How are we to fix you if you won't even sit still?" His booming voice calmed the girl slightly, and she sat still, though the physician's prodding only earned soft whines from her and once a screech, cut short by a quick slap from the man inspecting her jaw.
"It looks as if it may be broken," the man said, glancing to Lena and frowning. "Hertig Gyllensvard, what has your daughter been doing?"
"Nothing of your concern," Lena's father boomed, and he scowled at the physician, who gave a soft, almost whistling sigh that was one of the few things that belied his age. He had met Lena many times over her life, and she always recalled him looking the same...he had always worn that scowl at the girl, but her mother often joked that his face had one day frozen like that. He wasn't kind on the inside, but he was a good physician.
"Yes, of course, Hertig," the physician answered in a tone that was nearly sardonic, and gently probed Lena's jaw once more. "Yes, it seems as if there was some sort of fracture...the child is more accident-prone than your boys, it seems." He extracted a length of bandage from his bag, looked at Lena, and wound it tightly around her head. "You will feed her broth and fluids for three weeks. Milk is best." He inclined his head, shook Lena's father's hand, and ignored the indignant noises of his patient as he walked out in his peculiar, jerky way.
Lena watched him go, scowling furiously and snarling through her bound-up jaw. Eventually she looked at her father, who was watching her impassively, and bounded to her feet. She tried her hardest to scream, but it came out muffled, and her father looked sharply at her. She fell silent and allowed the man to take her again by the arms and guide her gently back down into a chair. He looked at her, and she glared at him.
"Lena, my pet," he began slowly, sighing, "Lena my dear, you must not do this to yourself." Lena snarled, but a quick lift of his hand made her fall silent again. "You are a troublemaker, my pet, and while your spirit is unbreakable, your body is not. You must stop this, Lena. We cannot have you hurting yourself all the time; you will run me out of house and home with physicians' bills." He gave her the glimmer of a smile at that, but Lena only scowled, the remainder of a black eye making the look even more deadly.
"I know, Lena," her father answered. "I know, but you are not the Sverig Rus, my child. You are a girlchild, and you mustn't do these sorts of things. If you act out of turn, you could be killed. Some day the Njorska will be run out of Sverig again and Scaandiva will have proper rulers. But you must bide your time."
I will not! Lena wished fervently that she could speak now, but the look in her father's eyes was that of a man who had already made his decision. She would be unable to change his mind, and she would have to make this promise...she didn't want to. The Njorska were invaders on their land! She bit back a shriek and instead simply sighed, glaring at her father as hard as she could. The man sighed back, petting her hair and then shaking his head.
"Bide your time, my pet. And be more careful outside these walls. Scaandiva is not yours to do with as you please, child. And if I hear you have been doing this again, I shall not be so lenient. Your jaw will heal, and I can hope that your stupidity will as well." He shook his head again. "I should not have allowed you to run with my sons; that is no place for a girlchild." He ignored the daggers Lena glared at him, leaned down to kiss her forehead, and turned away. "I will send for your mother. Do not exert yourself overmuch, my pet."
Lena glared after him, saying nothing. She would make no promises. The land was hers by rights, and she would die for that, if need be.
