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In the middle of a gentle valley, the carriage slowed, and the driver stamped on the floorboard to get their attention. “Ma’am, there’s cavalry over there,” he said.
They stopped, and Lily climbed on the roof, followed quickly by Elwyn and Edwin. Sure enough, at the northern end of the valley, at least two miles away, a squadron of cavalrymen rode out of the woods. They slowed to a halt and seemed to be getting ready to dismount and water their horses at the little stream, but then another, much larger group of horsemen came down the hill at them.
“Can you see any banners?” asked Lily, but Elwyn shook her head.
Now more little squads and companies lined the ridge. Some of them joined together, and then attacked others, rushing up and down the hill. There didn’t seem to be any pattern or rhythm to it at all. They seemed to be swirling around randomly. It formed a curiously beautiful pattern, yet she knew men were dying over there.
The driver tapped Lily’s arm. “Um, ma’am...they’re coming closer.”
Sure enough, he was right. The battle was spreading up the valley. She could see individual figures and the flash of swords. Still no banners, but at this rate, she would be able to see them soon enough. Then she realized that if the carriage stayed where it was, they would be in the middle of the fighting in a few minutes.
“Oh, shit. We’d better move,” she told the driver.
“I thought this carriage meant no one can attack us,” Edwin said, as they climbed back in.
“They might not stop to look at what’s written on the door,” said Lily.
The driver took them up the valley as fast as the horses would go. The wheels jumped and shuddered over the ruts, and everyone was jostled violently together, smacking knees and elbows. As they turned and raced across a little stone bridge, Lily could see the cavalrymen getting closer and closer. Then the carriage rumbled into a little stand of oak trees, where the road ran past thick banks of brambles and ferns, and they were hidden from view.
Around the next corner, they found themselves on a small farm, with gently-sloping fields. There was a little stone house and a barn, and the driver suggested they hide the carriage there. Already they could hear the clash of steel down in the woods, coming closer, and Lily knew they couldn’t outrun the fighting any longer.
The house was empty—though there was food half-cooked in the kitchen. The farmer and his family must have seen the fighting and left only minutes earlier.
Rohesia noticed this, too. “If the people who lived here didn’t think this place was safe, why are we staying?”
“I don’t think we have much of a choice,” said Elwyn, glancing out the kitchen window. “The soldiers are here.”
They barred the door and then raced up the spindly, narrow stairs into the bedrooms, where they huddled together around the tiny windows, peeking out through the gaps in the ragged curtains and trying not to make the slightest sound.
In the field below the house, about two dozen cavalrymen were gathering. Their armor and mail was splattered with mud, and when they lifted their visors, Lily could see the sweat and grime plastered all over their faces. One of the men had a tattered banner in his hands, and as he turned to take a water skin from another man, the banner fluttered briefly open.
“Why that’s the arms of the Earl of Hyrne!” said Rohesia. “Those are my brother’s men! He must be here under the Duke of Leornian.”
She stood, clearly intending to go down and greet the soldiers, but Lily put out a hand to stop her. There was a low, almost inaudible vibration coming up through the floorboards, and the Hyrne men were lowering their visors, drawing their swords, and turning to face the woods.
The enemy burst through the trees and thundered up the hill—dozens and dozens of them. Maybe a whole regiment. They crashed into the Hyrne soldiers like a storm surge, driving them back almost to the front steps of the house. A few of the defenders managed to slip away, but most of them were hacked to bits only yards from where Lily and the royal family were watching.
The attackers turned to chase down the few men who had survived, and as they left, their own banner unfurled for a second in the still, dusty air: a green field with a white tower.
“Oh, Earstien!” cried Rohesia, putting a hand to her face. “Oh, Earstien, no. They’re from Keneshire. That means Flora is....”
“On Cousin Broderick’s side now,” said Elwyn, shaking her head in disbelief.
Obviously the Duchess of Keneburg had to side with someone eventually, but apparently none of the Sigors had ever seriously considered that she might turn against them. They all slumped to the floor or against the walls, looking defeated. Lily had no idea what to say to them.
She tried to get them moving again, telling them they had to be ready to leave once the soldiers were gone. But every few minutes, a squad of Keneshire men would ride past, going this way or that, or a single scout would come racing through the farmyard on his way somewhere.
Eventually the soldiers stopped coming, and Lily led the group out to the barn. But when they left the house, they could see the sky darkening to the north, with massive thunderclouds billowing up. The wind rose, and the first drops of rain started drumming down in the farmyard. They saw Keneshire men setting up tents in the fields to the east of the house—the very direction they needed to go.
“Maybe we can wait until the storm passes and sneak through then,” Lily suggested.
She tried not to let them all see how worried she was. By now they were half a day late for their rendezvous at Cramstone with Moira’s agents, and it looked more and more like they wouldn’t be able to get there at all.
The storm lasted until the early morning, and they spent a miserable night on the rough wooden floor of the upstairs bedrooms. Sometimes the wind came through the cracks of the walls, howling like a ghoul. Alice and Edwin put their hands to their ears and shivered. Elwyn curled up next to Lily, and though Rohesia gave them a very disapproving look, she said nothing.
Twice, men tried to open the door downstairs. Once, two Keneshire officers came up on the back porch, out of the storm, and talked in low voices about where they would take the column in the morning. From what Lily could make out over the crashing thunder and the lashing of the rain on the roof, the men were planning on going to Formacaster before dawn, assuming the rain stopped.
“We’ll only be a day late to Cramstone,” thought Lily. “Moira will probably be furious, but it can’t be helped.”
Finally the wind dropped, and the rain became a light drizzle, which turned into a misting fog as dawn approached. Lily worried maybe the soldiers would want to stay longer, until the weather cleared, but their officers went down the rows of tents, shouting for the men to get underway. And before long, the whole regiment was packed up and riding down the hill, right past the house, disappearing into the fog before they even reached the trees.
Everyone breathed a sigh of relief, but the feeling lasted only a minute, until little Alice, looking out the window, noticed some soldiers coming back. There were about a dozen of them, and they had a furtive, nervous look to them, constantly turning in their saddles to make sure they weren’t being followed.
“Survivors from the Earl of Hyrne’s men?” suggested Edwin hopefully.
But no, as they drew closer in the dim gray light, Lily could see the Keneshire arms on their surcoats. They were deserters, no doubt. This guess was confirmed when one of the men said, “I don’t want to be hanged for this.”
“We can always say we got lost in the fog,” said another man. He pointed off to his right. “I heard they got a knight over there. See if you can find anything on him.” Then he gestured toward the house. “There has to be something good in there. Or in the barn.”
“Why, they’re looting,” hissed Rohesia, incensed. “I can’t believe Flora’s men would do something like that.”
“We can take it up with her later,” said Elwyn. “They’re going to be here any second. We’d better find another way out.”
But there was only that one stairway, and moments later, they heard the front door come smashing in. Then the sound of men’s heavy boots down in the kitchen and the parlor, and the crashing and shattering as they started clearing shelves, looking for valuables.
“Fuck me,” whispered Elwyn. She looked at Lily. “How many weapons do we have?”
The driver had a sword and a dagger, while Lily and Elwyn each had a small hunting knife. Rohesia had a vial of poison, and as she held it to her chest, she looked from Edwin to Alice and back again. Lily had little doubt now that the woman could use it on her children if she had to.
Then Edwin pointed out the window on the other side, where the veranda was. “I bet we could climb out here and jump down,” he suggested.
“Best option we’ve got right now,” said Elwyn. “Come on, everyone.”
As silently as they could, they crept out onto the tile roof of the veranda, still slick and wet from the storm. The Immani driver insisted on going first, and when he got to the eaves, he peeked his head over. Looking back, he nodded, and then he swung himself around and dropped out of sight.
Lily went next—it was only about eight feet to the ground from there, but for a second, it felt like looking down on the Palm Court of Wealdan Castle through the glass dome. Then she forced herself over the side, and the driver caught her as she fell. She straightened up and looked at the house. The shutters were drawn, but through the slats, she could still see the shapes of the Keneshire men walking back and forth in the kitchen.
Edwin came next, and as he turned around, his foot caught the edge of the lead downspout, which scraped against the stone with a loud screech.
They all froze, and in the kitchen, one of the looters said, “What was that?”
“Fuck if I know,” said another. “Keep looking. They’ve got to have some money or wine around here somewhere.”
Lily and the driver helped Edwin down, and then Alice, who was frightened at the edge and had to be coaxed in frantic, desperate whispers. Elwyn came down next, and Lily thought the princess fell a bit harder into her arms than she really needed to. Not that Lily was complaining. And then finally Rohesia, and they were all out of the house.
They started tiptoeing through the yard to the barn, but when they were only about ten feet away, the barn door swung open from inside, and two Keneshire men came out.
One of them was in mid-sentence, saying, “...and they’ll never believe that carriage, though I can’t think why....” He and his companion stopped as they saw Lily and the others.
Lily put her hands up in a calming gesture. “Listen, don’t do anything stupid. How about I give you a little money, and you forget you saw us?”
The fellow who had been talking laughed, whistled loudly, and called out, “Hey, boys. There’s some people here who want to give us some money.”
In seconds the back door of the house flew open, and the other Keneshire soldiers came pouring out. The biggest one, apparently the leader, drew his sword and said, “I think you folks had better empty your packs and your pockets.”
Lily and the others started backing away, across the farmyard and toward the lane. It seemed hopeless, though. They couldn’t run; these men had horses, and they’d be caught in minutes, no matter which way they went.
“We’ll give you what we’ve got,” said Lily. “But then you have to let us go.”
“Or we could see what the Odelandic thrall traders might give us for you,” laughed the nearest soldier. “You ladies look like you could bring a fair bit of gold.”
They were halfway across the farmyard now, nearing the gate, and Lily turned her head to whisper, “Cover your faces. Cover your faces now.”
But it was too late. Another of the soldiers took a few steps forward, pointing at Rohesia. “Hey. Hey, you look familiar.” He pointed to Elwyn. “And you, too.”
All but the slowest of the soldiers realized it at the same time. “Oh, holy Finster!” one said. “Ovida’s tits! It’s the queen and Princess Elwyn! And that little squirt there must be....”
Edwin squared his thin shoulders and said, “I am your king, and I order you to let us go.”
“You’re the king of nothing now, boy,” said the leader. “But I bet the captain general will still give us a king’s ransom for you.”
They had backed all the way to the farmyard gate, and Lily grabbed Elwyn’s arm. “The driver and I will hold them here. Take your family and run.”
But Elwyn shook her head. “No. Mother, you take them. Lily, I’m staying with you.” She leaned over and kissed Lily; then she drew her knife.
The soldiers laughed nastily at the kiss. They drew warily closer; some had knives, others had rope. Lily wasn’t sure which was more terrifying. “Maybe we’ll make you put on a show for us first,” chuckled one man.
There was an odd sound—a high, windy wail, even though the foggy air was completely still. Everyone, friend and foe, looked around for the source, even as the noise grew louder. The fog seemed to part, and for the longest two seconds of Lily’s life, the whole farmyard was bathed in a weird, flickering red light.
And then a fireball the size of a man dropped right on top of the closest soldiers, blowing them instantly to bits and throwing Lily and Elwyn to the ground.