Natalia tore at the bread like an animal, putting as much of it as possible into her mouth at once. She wanted to savor it, to enjoy the luxury of eating something that wasn't days old or covered in filth, or in most cases both, something that she hadn't had to steal, but her survival instincts pushed her to fill her stomach while she had the chance.
Across the table Petrovits watched her eat, a smirk tugging at the edges of his mouth. "Tell me, how did you come to be on your own? I think we both know the story you gave me before was a lie."
Natalia reluctantly stopped shoveling food into her mouth and shrugged, "Don't know, can't remember."
Petrovits smiled, "Good, where we're going the past means nothing, you must think only of the future, the future that we will create."
Natalia considered this for a moment, it had been a long time since she had though of anything but the present, anything but finding her next mark, her next meal, her next source of shelter. Her life had been the same for as long as she could remember, she had only her name to indicate it had ever been anything different, and she'd never had reason to think it would ever change. "You are saying that I can choose my future?"
The man threw his head back and laughed, "No my little feather head," he leaned forward to look her right in the eye, "you are going to be the future, and not just the future of Russia, no, you will be the future of the world." Quickly changing subjects Ivan turned to look out the small open window of the tavern where they were taking their meal, "Come, tis a long road we have ahead of us and eve shall soon be upon us." Petrovits pushed away from the heavy wooden table and stalked out of the inn towards his horse.
Natalia took a moment to secure the remaining bread under her shift, right next to the money pouch she'd stolen earlier, and pour as much stew into her mouth as she could possibly manage, before scurrying off after her strange new companion.
Petrovits already had his horse waiting just outside the inn by the time Natalia ran out. Natalia's experience with horses was limited to the overworked beasts that the villagers used, the occasional charger or rouncey ridden by a passing knight, and of course the palfreys that the lord and his family would ride. Yet even with this limited knowledge Natalia felt quite certain that the horse before her now was the most magnificent one in existence.
He was as black and dark as a moonless night and his coat gleamed so that Natalia thought she might be able to see her own reflection. The destrier stood so tall that Natalia could have nearly walked right under his stomach, and he stood nearly even with this master, who was himself one of the tallest men Natalia had ever seen. He wasn't skinny or underfed like the village nags, or thick and heavy like the plow horses either, he was all lean muscle and untapped power just waiting to spring into action. He was just waiting to toss off his bindings and run free, he was just waiting for the right moment.
Natalia placed a gentle hand on the animal's neck, as near to his head as she could reach, and then traced her way to the saddle. Rather than being decorative, as was customary, the equipment bore only a single mark, a blood-red hand print on the saddle.
Tracing her finger over the print the little girl tilted her red head up so she could look at Petrovits, "Are you a knight? Is this the sign of your lord?"
"Something like that little one," half of his face crooked up in a smile, "now up you go." He lifted Natalia and placed her in front of the saddle before swinging up behind her.