| |
Four days after the city fell, Robert found the trail he wanted in the Losianbeorg Mountains, ten miles east of the hill town of Morley Wells. Caedmon hadn’t given him a specific itinerary, of course. That would have been far too dangerous. But Robert knew where Caedmon would be taking the royal refugees, and he also knew the kind of lonely, forgotten roads he would use himself, if he were trying not to be found.
He was moving more quickly now, having traded for a fresh horse at Morley Wells. The old horse had been a very beautiful but ill-tempered palfrey that had belonged to some Gramiren knight stationed in Presport, east of Leornian. It seemed to think carrying Robert was beneath its dignity. Robert had left it in a farmyard in trade for a better-behaved horse of undistinguished lineage. He hoped the palfrey would adjust to this change in circumstances in time.
When Robert left his family, Alicia had been very frightened for him. She had thought there would be Gramiren agents on every road, searching for the king and the princess. But Robert had rarely seen any of the enemy. He had only been chased once, and hadn’t had to fight at all. If Broderick had sent out agents, he had probably sent most of them to the west, assuming Caedmon would take Edwin and Elwyn to the Empire.
Even so, it wasn’t safe for the Sigors and their supporters in Myrcia anymore. Broderick could swear up and down that he wasn’t going to take revenge, but Robert had his doubts. He had told Alicia to use a different name for a while. And not her maiden name, either. Plenty of people remembered that Alicia Garmont had married Robert Tynsdale. And a few also knew that Alicia Garmont had been friends with Princess Elwyn at Atherton.
Alicia had asked him to choose a name, so he had dubbed her “Mrs. Anna Docent,” after the lane where Presley Kemp and Grigory Sobol had lived in Leornian. Mrs. Docent would be the poor widow of a soldier.
“No! That’s bad luck.” She had kissed him very hard. “Let’s say Mr. Docent is a merchant on a long journey, and will come back safe very soon.”
“Let us hope he does,” Robert had agreed.
He was thinking of this conversation with his wife, and what they had done afterward, as he rode higher up the narrow, twisting path between damp cliffs and stunted pines. Then he saw fresh hoofprints in the mud, along with some footprints that were about the right size for an 11-year-old boy. People had been sitting here and resting not long ago. They weren’t that far ahead now.
His thoughts turned to the other thing his wife had said, after he had broken the news to her about Alfred’s death. “Oh, Robert, that’s going to crush Elwyn. Be careful how you break the news.”
But he wasn’t sure there was any good way to say it. He would try to be gentle, though—as much for Alfred’s sake as for hers.
As he came around a corner between two gnarled trees, there was a sudden clap of thunder that nearly made his horse bolt. Caedmon Aldred appeared in the middle of the path, carrying a ball of burning flame aloft in one hand.
“Who are you?” cried the hillichmagnar. “And why do you follow us?”
Robert pushed back his hood, and Caedmon immediately extinguished the ball of magysk fire, even as Robert jumped down to shake hands.
“It is good to see you again,” said the hillichmagnar. He must have seen some hint of the terrible news in Robert’s expression, though, because he sighed and added, “At least you are still safe, and that is something.”
“Hope we weren’t too easy to find,” said Earl Lawrence, stepping onto the path from the trees and sheathing his sword. “Glad you made it out of that mess, Robert.”
“We were going to mount an ambush,” said King Edwin happily, waving a hunting knife.
His sister emerged last, carefully returning an arrow to her quiver. “Hello, Robert,” she said. But her eyes were not on him. She was looking down the road past him with an expectant expression. After a moment, as she realized he was alone, her brow creased.
“Your royal highness,” he said, bowing. “Might I...have a word alone with you?”
“Oh, dear,” said Earl Lawrence.
“What is it?” asked Edwin. “Is something wrong?”
“Your majesty, come over here” said Caedmon, in a gentle but firm tone. “Sir Robert will want to share a cup of tea with us. Help me gather wood to make a fire.”
“And I will, um...see to your horse, Robert,” said the earl.
The color was already draining from Elwyn’s face when Robert turned back to her.
“Alfred.... He isn’t with you,” she said in a tense whisper, twisting her bow in her hands.
“No, he isn’t. I’m very sorry, but I’m afraid he didn’t make it.” Robert reached into his pocket and pulled out the ring Alfred had given him.
Elwyn glared at it for a moment like it was poison. Then her eyes filled with tears and she dropped her bow. Seizing the ring from Robert’s hand, she held it tight to her chest. “What...what happened?” she demanded.
Briefly, Robert told her about the final assault, and how Alfred had resisted to the bitter end—far longer than anyone else could have. He told her how Alfred had faced Volker Rath and had killed the Gramiren lieutenant general, but had received a mortal wound in the process.
She said nothing as he told her the story. She bent lower, trembling, putting her head in her hands.
“I am very sorry,” said Robert. “He wanted me to tell you that...you made him happy.”
She let out a sob, pressing the ring to her forehead. Then she turned and stumbled off the path, descending through the trees to a little outcrop of mossy gray rock, where she sat curled protectively around the ring and staring out at the misty hills.
Robert watched her, worrying that he ought to have said something different, or at least have found a way to make the truth less awful. He had always liked Elwyn, and she had always been kind to him, even though she didn’t have to be.
He remembered vividly something she had told him years earlier, when they had been at Rawdon together for the holidays. She had still been in school back then, and he had been a squire to her father, the king.
“Sometimes I think there must be something very wrong with me,” she had said. “Like there’s something in me that wasn’t put together the right way around, if you know what I mean.”
How terrible to think that she had finally found someone who loved her as she was, only to lose him.
A minute or two passed, and Earl Lawrence wandered over. In a low voice, he said, “Someone should go down and talk to her. Don’t you think? Maybe I should talk to her. Yes?”
Robert was about to say that this might not be a bad idea. The earl had lost his wife recently, so he probably knew how Elwyn felt.
But then Edwin spoke up. “Wait, Uncle Lawrence.” He jogged over from the fire that he and Caedmon had made and tugged at the earl’s sleeve. “I think that...um, maybe we should let Elwyn be by herself for a little while.”
Lawrence allowed his nephew to lead him over to the fire, and Robert followed along behind them. They had tea, and Robert told them and Caedmon about Alfred’s death. They hadn’t been able to avoid overhearing when Robert broke the news, and of course even if they hadn’t, they could have guessed what had happened, based on Elwyn’s reaction. But he gave them all the tragic details of the story.
Edwin, who looked as if he was fighting not to cry, said, “Oh, poor Sir Alfred. Poor Elwyn.”
Earl Lawrence muttered “Shit” under his breath a few times and stared forlornly into his teacup.
Caedmon bowed his head and murmured a prayer.
They stayed around the fire for another hour, and Elwyn showed no signs of moving from her perch on the rock. Earl Lawrence suggested they might as well get out their tent and bedrolls and stop there for the night. No one answered him.
The shrill cry of a hawk broke the silence, and Robert looked up to see the big brown and white bird descending toward them in wide circles. Caedmon’s bushy eyebrows shot up. He stood and stepped away from the fire, pulling on a riding glove and holding out his arm. With a graceful flutter of wings, the hawk settled on his hand.
“What is it?” Earl Lawrence demanded.
Caedmon turned and went to his saddlebags, where he retrieved some food for the bird. Then, looking it in the eye with an expression almost as stern as the hawk’s, he whispered a few words. In moments, the hawk was flying over their heads again and streaking off toward the gray mountains to the east.
“I have good news, your majesty,” said the hillichmagnar. “My old friend Pallavi Ratnam of the Sahasran Vizierate of Magy reports that King Samrad IV has agreed to grant you asylum in his country. A palace will be put at your disposal in one of the northern hill towns—Briddobad, most likely.”
“Pallavi Ratnam?” said Edwin. “Isn’t she the one who helped Daryna Olekovna and the Loshadnarodski army fight against you at the Battle of Yusipova’s Fields? Uncle Lawrence told me the story.”
“Indeed, your majesty. But there was never any ill-will between us. And the Sahasrans were never openly at war with Myrcia, even as they aided the Loshadnarodskis.”
“What about troops?” Lawrence asked. “Is King Samrad going to send his army to help us retake Leornian?”
“There is no word of troops, I regret to say. However, I have no doubt you will be safe and very comfortable at the accommodations that Pallavi arranges for you.”
Edwin frowned. “Caedmon, you say that like you’re not going with us.”
“As I have told you, your majesty,” said the hillichmagnar gently, “I will see you to the border. But then I must return to Diernemynster and consult with the Freagast concerning Lady Jorunn’s participation in the battle on the Gramiren side.”
“And what about you, Cousin Robert?” asked Edwin. “Are you coming to Sahasra Deva with us?”
Robert had thought about that very question on his ride from Leornian. He had toyed with the idea of going into exile with the king, but he had always known he would reject it in the end. He had more work to do here in Myrcia. Even if he had fulfilled his duty to Alfred Estnor, he still had other duties. And it might be nice to stop in and see his family now and then, as well.
“I may come to visit you from time to time, your majesty,” said Robert. “But I do not think I will be able to settle down quite yet.”
“Well, Briddobad is still a long way away,” said a hoarse voice. “We’d better get moving.”
Robert, Edwin, and Lawrence were startled to see that Elwyn had joined them. There was no telling how long she had been standing silently in the shadows.
Caedmon, who must have seen her there, stood and bowed. “Quite right, your royal highness. We all have a long road ahead of us, whatever our destination might be.”
“Are you alright?” Earl Lawrence asked her.
“No,” she said, wiping her eyes. “But that doesn’t mean I can’t ride.” She went to Robert and took his hand. “Thank you for coming all this way to tell me.”
“I really am very sorry.”
“Someone had to bring the news. I’m glad it was you.”