Books of Bayern Series Bundle

by Shannon Hale

  “My lord,” said Selia, “it is a grave crime and thus a public castigation. To be placed naked in a barrel full of nails and dragged through the streets by four white horses, I believe.”

  A phantom pain prickled down Ani’s skin. She could not speak.

  “You believe?” said the king. “Be sure. We’ve heard enough. She’s not our citizen or our concern. I’m seriously considering leaving her in the dungeon here until this war is through and I’ve a free moment to deal with such nonsense.”

  “Oh, there’s no need for that, Father,” said Geric. “No one has proved she’s done anything criminal.”

  “It’s wartime, Geric,” said the king. “I don’t need proof.” He stood up and gestured to the guards to carry her away.

  “A moment,” said Geric with a staying hand. “As you said, she isn’t your citizen or your concern. Leave the girl here with her compatriots, and together they can arrive at a suitable resolution. Maybe the reminder of what her punishment might be will encourage her to tell the truth.”

  “Fine.” The king looked at Selia. “Send for my chief guard in an hour. If you haven’t convinced her to tell the truth, we’ll lock her up until we’ve time for this.”

  Ani looked at the Kildenrean guards. They were all smiling.

  “No, Geric, you don’t understand them,” Ani said. “Please don’t leave me.” She followed the king and Geric to the door. The guards held her back.

  “It’s for the best, Isi,” said Geric. He studied the room a moment, his eyes scanning the faces of the Kildenreans, before frowning and turning away.

  “No,” she said as Geric and the king exited the room. “Don’t leave me here with them. They are murderers.” She tried to pull away from the two guards holding her arms and let her shouts chase down the corridor after Geric. “Come back, please!”

  All the king’s guard were gone but her two captors. She turned to them, clinging to their tunics.

  “Don’t leave me,” she said, sobbing, panic wretching her gut. “Please. Just you two stay.”

  Ani would not let go, so one pushed her to the ground. She scrambled to her feet as they exited, closed, and locked the door behind them. She ran to the door and banged with her fists, calling after the guards, begging them to come back, to just ask the king and he would give them permission to guard her, ask the prince and come back. After a while she stopped banging and tried to hear over the sound of her own heaving breath if there was anyone on the other side of the door. Nothing. Silence.

  She stood against it for a few moments, her forehead pressed on the polished grain, breathing against its closeness, feeling her breath touch the wood and bounce back to her face, hot and quick. A cold chill raced down her back. Behind her, the room was still.

  Chapter 21

  The one door was closed, the few high windows shut out any wind. Ani closed her eyes. There was no air stirring the tiny hairs on the back of her hand or passing across her neck. She felt no movement of any kind, save her heartbeat in her fingertips pressed against the door—a fast beat, the kind drummers played for their sorcerers when the trick reached its climax. At last she turned around.

  They were all watching her, carrion crows perched on a fence, Selia the wild hunting cat in yellow. Selia stretched out a finger and motioned Ani forward.

  “Away from the door,” she said softly. “I would rather no one heard us just now.”

  Ani turned and leaned her back fully against the hard wall, letting her body soak in that last feeling of safety. Selia spoke a word, and Redmon and Uril grabbed her elbows and carried her to the far end of the room. Ani cried out but doubted anyone in the corridor heard or cared. They dumped her on the dais steps.

  Selia stood over her. Ani stared at the hem of Selia’s dress where the slant of light from a high window slashed it. The yellow was almost too bright to see, and she squinted, filtering the light through her lashes. She wondered if Selia would speak again and tangle her mind in words. She heard whispering and looked up. Ungolad stood close to Selia, his arm tight around her waist, his lips on hers.

  “We have won,” Selia said, and kissed him again. Ungolad caught Ani’s eyes and leaned over her. One of his braids slapped her cheek.

  “Little bird,” said Ungolad, “the king sounded convinced, hmm? Aren’t you proud of our Selia for thinking of such a diverting execution for you so quickly?”

  “It seems you need the king’s army to kill me, as you were so easily overwhelmed by two sleeping geese.”

  Ungolad pulled her arms and forced her to stand, and a thorny pain tore at her half-healed wound. She would not look at his eyes. She could feel the heat of his breath and of his anger on her cheeks.

  “Why do you not crawl, little princess? Why do you not beg?”

  “I hear you have been hiding as a goose girl all these months,” said Selia. “A shame you had to stoop so low only to be killed now.”

  “Not so low,” Ani said. “Where is Yulan?” She felt bitterness like a hot wind prickle the skin of her face, and she wanted to hurt Selia somehow, see her composure fail.

  “Where is Yulan?” said Selia in a mocking voice. “You think to surprise me? We heard of your little stunt from Ishta.”

  “Ishta,” said Ani. “Last I saw, Ishta was bleeding on your bedroom carpets, though perhaps his body has already been found.”

  Selia seemed to see Ani’s dress for the first time and recognize it from her wardrobe. She covered her mouth and muffled a scream of frustration. Her face flashed and reminded Ani of the tantrums she threw as a little girl. She has not grown up, thought Ani, after all this time. But the girl calmed herself with eerie speed. She dropped her hands to lift Ani’s chin and look in her eyes, speaking softly.

  “These months have been really, really wonderful for me, Crown Princess. They truly have. I want you to know that. I have always known what I wanted, since I was a little girl, and you helped me to achieve it.” She kissed Ani’s forehead and caressed her cheek with her thumb. “Thank you. And thank you for coming back. My one last wish, even when I thought you were dead in the woods, was to let you see me being you and doing it better.”

  Ungolad watched Selia, her every word fascinating him. He caressed her arm and murmured something low. Selia’s attention did not waver from Ani.

  “But unfortunately you did cause one little bother. The king is unquestioning, but my betrothed, my prince, seemed to have some doubts because of your convenient acquaintance. He seemed to resolve them there at the end, but I want to be sure. I spent months working to own his heart, and I don’t wish to go through that process again. So, dearest, here is the plan. When they return, you will confess to the king that you made it all up and in fact are my serving girl, and in turn, I will talk him down from the crime of treason. You will live. If you like, I will even let you return to your little goose herd. Agreed?”

  Ani bit her lip hard. The temptation to give in seemed to squeeze her ribs against her lungs. She spoke through clenched teeth. “Do you know why you have such trouble persuading Geric to love you? He fell in love with me as the goose girl in my pasture months ago.” At least, I hoped he had, she thought, but stared defiantly at Selia as though she had no doubts.

  Selia slapped Ani’s cheek. Ani stumbled backward and found herself in Ungolad’s arms. He held both her hands behind her back and raised a knife to her throat.

  “Listen to me, little bird,” he said. “When they come back, you will say what my Princess Anidori-Kiladra tells you to.”

  The edge of his dagger was so close, she did not dare to swallow. The blade felt as sharp as fear. “You will not kill me here,” she said.

  “No?” said Ungolad. “And if I claim you went mad and attacked me? As mad as that poor white horse?”

  “We had to take care of that animal of yours, of course,” said Selia. “If you had appeared and all the world witnessed that oh-so-magical bond you had with my mount? It was not difficult. He was already half-mad from the Forest, and Un
golad knows ways of making an animal a little madder.”

  Ani struggled, and Ungolad kneed the raw scar on her back. She cried out, and he released her wrists and put a hand over her mouth. “Was I right? Is this the spot where I tickled you?” He kneed her there again, her scream muffled by his hand, a tear dropping on his first finger. She grabbed his arms and thought she might as well tug against metal bars.

  “I’m telling you again,” said Ungolad, “you will agree with your new mistress or you will die here.”

  “Enough, enough, my love.” Selia stroked his chin with her finger, the expression in her eyes as soft and distant as a cat’s. “She will not speak. Can you not see that she’s in love with the prince?”

  “But, Talone,” said Ungolad.

  “He does not concern me. I don’t know how he escaped our notice, but he can’t have proof beyond scars and a questionable testimony. It is the prince’s doubt that troubles me. Ungolad, I want you to cut me.”

  Ani could feel him shake his head.

  “Release her and cut me. I will scream, we will claim she attacked me, and the worst will be over.”

  “Selia, love,” said Ungolad. It was the first time Ani had detected fear in his voice. “I can’t cut you, I can’t cut your skin.”

  “I’ll do it,” said Terne.

  “Shut it, you piece of meat,” said Ungolad. “You think I’d let you touch her?”

  Selia pressed herself close to Ungolad, her lips at his ear. His hands began to shake. Ani could hear Selia whisper, “I’m not afraid. Be brave, my love, and our labors will be over.” She kissed his neck.

  Ungolad took two panicked breaths. “All right,” he said with a growl. “I will, if we can kill her first. Then we can claim she attacked, and I was defending you.”

  “Stop! Don’t touch her!”

  All turned to look in the direction of the voice, toward the dais and the throne. It was empty. Ungolad’s hand pressed harder against Ani’s mouth. Selia took a step forward. The voice had come from behind them. No one was there.

  An enormous tapestry behind the throne covered the far wall of the room. It had the appearance of age, of colors once vibrant that had dimmed from candle smoke and sunlight. It was unremarkable—a traditional scene of some dead king at the hunt on a once dark steed, the white, slender-antlered hart fleeing, hounds with long snouts and gold collars fast at its hooves—unremarkable, but that its center was fluttering like the breast of a bird.

  Its edge lifted and Geric burst forth. The king followed, and then the king’s guard. Ani heard Ungolad curse and Selia gasp. Ani felt like gasping herself.

  Geric’s eyes searched the room wildly, stopping when he saw Ani, Ungolad’s hand over her mouth and knife at her throat. He shouted in rage, drew his sword, and rushed forward.

  “Get back!” Ungolad pulled Ani tighter and turned the dagger threateningly.

  Geric halted and took a step back to show he would not provoke Ungolad, but he did not sheathe his sword. The king’s guard stood around him with ready swords. The Kildenreans drew theirs as well.

  “Don’t be fools,” said Geric. “You hurt her and your lives are forfeit.”

  The door at the head of the room opened and soldiers with the royal insignia on their shields filed into the chamber and took position. Ani knew there were more waiting in the corridor, though she could not see them. She did not stop to realize how she knew.

  “Let her go,” said Geric. “Isi, are you all right?”

  She looked at him beseechingly and felt Ungolad squeeze his hand as though he could crack her jaw. A small note of pain escaped her throat.

  “Easy, Ungolad,” said Geric, raising his shield arm in peace. “Let’s talk. What do you want to let the princess go?”

  “You are mistaken,” said Selia, her voice shaking. “She is my lady-in-waiting. This is all a joke. I’m the princess.”

  The king shook his head sadly and descended the steps closer to Selia. “We heard your entire conversation, I’m afraid, so let’s skip the declarations of innocence and move on to bargaining, shall we?” She stared at him with wide, frightened eyes. He smiled back and motioned to the tapestry behind him.

  “Clever opening back there, is it not, my girl? Years ago, before this estate was generously and unwillingly turned over to the crown, the lord here was a genuine dimwit. He had a minister stashed behind his throne to whisper clever things to say. I’d forgotten about it until now, but Geric used to play there as a boy and he brought it to my attention as soon as we left you.”

  The king glanced at his son. Geric kept his eyes on Ungolad and tightened the grip on his sword.

  “He is a good boy, always was a better judge of character than me. It was his idea to make you think you were alone and employ the listening portal. I guess he thought I was too stubborn to believe this girl’s story unless he arranged for me to hear you all admit it yourselves, and I suppose he was right.”

  The king smiled fondly at Selia and reached out a hand to her. She took a step back.

  “I think you know I never wish to harm a lady,” said the king. “Your own hands have spilt no blood, I think. Tell your lover there to release the princess and we’ll judge you all fairly.”

  For several moments no one spoke. The tension was as tight as the stones in the walls, as stifling as the heat and closeness. Ungolad’s hand was sweating against Ani’s skin. His shield on his left arm pressed against her back. His sword hung at his side. She knew he yearned to feel his blade break her skin, to stop her breathing and her heart that beat through her back against his own chest, but that her life was the only coin in his hand.

  Geric glanced at the king, at the soldiers around him, at the Kildenreans. No one moved. He reached out his hand to Ani. Ungolad took half a step backward.

  “Easy there, sir,” said Geric as though he spoke to a wild horse. “Just lower your knife and let her come to me.”

  “Ungolad,” said Selia. Her voice was raw with fear, and Ungolad stiffened at her command.

  “Come here,” he said, “all of you!”

  There was an echo of boot steps that made Ani’s skin shiver as Selia and the Kildenreans took position behind Ungolad and his hostage. Geric and some of the guards stepped forward.

  “I will kill her,” said Ungolad. “Believe I will.” His hand shook at Ani’s throat. Geric halted.

  “Ungolad,” said Geric, “this is the time for negotiations, not for fighting. If you start fighting, you all die. If you kill her, you all die. Let her go and I guarantee none of you will be executed.”

  “We take her with us,” said Selia. “That will be our guarantee.”

  “We can discuss that,” said the king.

  Ani’s eyes widened in panic. She was certain that if the Kildenreans used her life to make their escape, they would kill her once they had. Geric saw Ani’s reaction and seemed to understand its meaning.

  “No,” he said. “No, that’s not possible. Settle this now, in this room.”

  “If we can’t leave with her as our assurance of safety,” said Selia, “then there will be nothing to settle.”

  There were soldiers in the chamber and soldiers in the corridor. Ani blinked hard and swallowed against the knife. Soldiers in the corridor. She knew that because something had told her, something had touched her and carried the image of those men in perfect lines, javelins in hand, waiting for entrance, their muscles tight and anxious. A breeze from the open door.

  “Tell them to back away, Crown Princess. Tell them to let us pass, and once we’re on our way we will send you back.” Selia’s voice quavered with too many tones, confusing the roles she played—commanding, regal, humble, coercive, friendly, and under it all the hate and jealousy that shook her bones when she spoke Ani’s title. Ani concentrated on turning the voice, her words that had always struck like javelins and pinned down her mind with their commands, turning those shooting words into feathers, floating away. Her eyes were closed. She was listening for any breeze,
any movement of air on her skin. Please, she prayed, please come.

  “Tell them,” said Selia.

  A trickle of air, a cool corridor draft, brushed her brow. Selia tapped Ungolad, and he loosened the fingers on Ani’s mouth so she could tell them to back away.

  “No,” said Ani.

  The breeze pulled with it more breezes, and they circled her ankles. The air stirred around her legs, and the breeze pulled that movement into itself. She felt a draft from the high walls and beckoned it near, and a new breeze from the door that pulled in a wind from the out-of-doors on its tail, and they all merged at her feet and rustled her hem.

  The room was still as they watched her gather wind. Geric watched her face, his lips parted in awe.

  Quickly the wind climbed, circling her hips and waist, pushing itself between her body and Ungolad’s arms and attempting to press his blade away from her throat. His hold on her tightened, and the blade slid just a little across her skin.

  “Stop it! Stop it!” he said, his voice edged with terror.

  That new source of wind touched the back of her head. Ani beckoned it, and it came, the very breath out of Ungolad’s mouth, one long string of wind unhooked from his lungs and throat, drawn out like a snail from its shell. Breathless, he choked and stumbled, and his hold slackened. The circling wind fattened and, rising, pressed itself between his hand and her throat. As he gasped for air, Ani punched hard backward with her elbow and stepped out of his reach.

  She turned to face her countrymen. The wind raised her arms at her sides and spun through her hair, beating it against the air, lifting high her locks like bright yellow flames. The Kildenreans stared at her, and some backed against the wall. She did not want to release it, the coolness on her skin, the soft touch, the shield it gave her, and the feeling at last of safety, at last that they could not touch her.

  “Your war’s done,” said Ani.

  Her hair whipped above her head. Her skirts beat around her legs with a sound like hands clapping. No one moved. They were all staring at her.