The young man took her ruby and candlesticks and began to saddle the horses. He also filled the saddlebag of one horse with his own lunch. Illianah appreciated the kind gesture, but she did not think she would have time to stop to eat.
She was given instructions on how to handle the horses and was warned to not run them too hard, as she had done with the last horse. The stable boy instructed her to trade out the horses every few hours so one could have a rest from carrying her, that way she could travel farther in one long stretch.
“When you stop at an inn tonight, make certain they feed your horses a mix of …”
Illianah interrupted, “I will not be stopping. I must go all night if I am to make it there in time.”
“Then both horses will be dead by morning,” he said curtly.
“I am truly sorry,” she said, taking his hand as she climbed into the saddle of the lead horse. “But I must right a terrible wrong … before it is too late.”
***
Taking the direct route from the capital of Vieve to the capital of Burchess was the obvious path. The highway was groomed and well-traveled. She would not be in any danger from highway thieves; but the danger would come from behind. Valencio knew she was Burchessian and would assume she would be running home. He would find his horse in the stable near the palace and know she had continued her journey with two horses. He would search for her on the main highway.
The horse she was riding pranced anxiously as Illianah paused outside the city, trying to make her decision. She would be safe from Valencio if she went through Sanguine, but it would add several hours to her journey. She did not have several hours to spare: she had to be in St. Moraine before the clock went around twice.
Whether or not Valencio had awakened immediately after her departure was the biggest question. If she only had an hour’s lead on him, she would have lost it when she stopped to hear the announcement at the palace. It was all too possible that Valencio would overtake her on the highway.
Sanguine was her only choice.
She took the highway to Liet, but then went into the forest at the border. She did not know her way exactly, but she knew she should keep near the river, which was now frozen in the shallow places, making river crossings easy. However, the deep snow kept her from galloping with her horses, as her heart longed to do.
After several hours, as the mountains began to turn to valleys, she left the sanctuary of the river and headed due east. While still in the wooded hillsides, the sun began to fall from the sky. She shivered and caught sight of her breath in the air. She should be close to Burchess now—close to the lowlands. If she could get to the lowlands before the blackest part of the night, she would not need to worry about freezing to death on the back of her horse. But she continued to worry about Donovan. Could she make it in time to save him?
The hillsides soon rolled into nothingness. The snow vanished. She had made it to Burchess. She stopped the horses and looked back at Deltegra. Being a prisoner there had been the most decisive period of her life: which was rather ironic considering when she had arrived, it had seemed her life would be over. But she could not be the worst thing that ever happened to Donovan. She could not let him die for her.
It was with desperate determination she made the rest of the journey. Her horses were hungry and tired, and she was so fatigued she worried she might die upon her horse. She kept falling asleep in the saddle, so she wound the reins tightly around her hand to stop her from falling to the ground if her body gave way to deep sleep.
Just before dawn, she stopped to switch horses again, yet the secondary horse refused to move another step forward. She offered it bread from her pack, which it refused by flaring her nostrils in such defiance that she stepped back in fear. The horse had the look of a creature gone mad. She had pushed it too far. She had no choice but to release it and send it off in search of water and a pasture. The villages of Burchess were frequently dotting the landscape now and she knew someone would find the horse and either nurse it back to health or put it out if its misery.
But now her lead horse refused to continue on as well. It must have misunderstood her intentions of sending the second horse to pasture. He did not move an inch when she dug her heels into its side, but merely tossed his head back and forth as if he was saying “no.”
Illianah dismounted and offered this horse her bread, which it took. After giving it a minute to stomach the food, she looked the horse square in the eye. “Please, we must go on. I have to be there, or he will die.”
Tears quickly flooded her eyes and even though she felt ridiculous for crying to her horse, she did not stop begging him to continue. “Please,” she again whispered.
The horse gave a small whinny, which she took as an affirmative answer; she climbed back into the saddle.
The landscape was completely awake when Illianah arrived in St. Moraine. She pulled the threadbare cloak she had taken from Valencio’s stable over her head and hoped no one would give her a second glance. She looked worse than any of the other travelers heading toward the city, and if anything, people would only be looking at her in disgust.
She looked up at the city she once thought to be her home. It looked as it always did—majestic and stately. The entire city seemed to glimmer in the morning’s light. But its grandeur did not affect Illianah—not in the least. In fact, it sickened her. The city had been built with the sweat and fear of the commoners—people who would be imprisoned if they did not do the King’s bidding. He had enslaved his entire nation and now he would do the same to the good people of Deltegra.
All through the night and the prior day, Illianah had tried to formulate a plan for when she arrived in Burchess, but the only thing she knew for certain was that she needed to show herself as proof of Donovan’s innocence. However, seeing the city changed something within her. There was more to this pilgrimage than just saving his life; she needed to save her people as well.
No one’s eyes seemed to linger on her face as she passed through the city gate. She went through the streets she knew so well and made her way to the castle’s outer wall. The horse would not be permitted to enter, so she came to a stop in a garden outside the wall. When Illianah dismounted, she fell to the ground. Her legs did not have the strength to carry her another step. How would she be able to save Donovan if she could not even walk?
Something pushed upon her back. It was the horse, urging her on. Using the reigns, she pulled herself up and rested her head on the horse’s neck. “Thank you,” she whispered. “You are a good horse. You have done well.” Her throat felt dry just from speaking those few words. She could not imagine how the horse felt.
There was a nearby fountain adorning the garden; Illianah drank from it first, and then allowed the horse to drink. This was a crime punishable by a fine of several gold coins—which she would not be able to pay—but on a day like today, she guessed that the guards of Burchess had more important things to worry about.
She passed through the portcullis without being noticed as well; she then made her way through the crowd to the front of the courtyard. This was the citizen’s courtyard, meaning on certain days of the week, it was open to commoners. The inner ward however, was reserved exclusively for nobility. Illianah had never spent much time out here in the citizen’s courtyard, as she had never liked rubbing shoulders with her inferiors, but as she rubbed shoulders with them now, her heart warmed with a strong feeling of kinship. These were the people who carried Burchess upon their backs. Without them, Burchess would be nothing more than a dry, barren wasteland. Without them, she would be nothing.
“Excuse me,” she said repeatedly as she pushed her way to the front. The balcony where her father would sit to watch the proceedings was just fifty feet to her right. But that was not close enough. It was crucial that her father see her instantly.
A cheer went through the crowd before she reached the front. She jumped high to look over the shoulders of the man in front of her and saw guards crossing the court
yard, coming from the tall prison tower. At the center of the group of guards was a man shorter than the rest. His black, wavy hair stood out amidst the silver helmets. Without even seeing his face, she knew it was Donovan, but she stopped herself from crying out to him.
“Not yet,” she whispered. She took a deep breath, but knew it would do nothing to calm her rapidly beating heart.
Just as Donovan was brought to the dais—which elevated him fifteen feet above the crowd so that all could see his demise—a hush fell across the crowd and all took to bended knee. Illianah squatted so she would not be seen defying the king, but she would not take to her knee in honor of the tarnished crown of Burchess.
“Bow to your king,” a guard next to Donovan yelled. The guard then hit Donovan across the back of the legs with the blunt end of a spear, forcing him to the ground. Donovan had no choice but to bow, but he looked up at the king with such defiance that his eyes looked like coals burning with fire.
On the balcony above, her father scowled back at Donovan, but her father also wore a look of satisfaction. Donovan could glare all he liked, but her father’s word would be the last.
Illianah’s heart stopped when she saw Leif come to her father’s side. He looked smug as well. She wished she could spit directly at his face and humiliate him in front of her father and his kingdom. Leif did not deserve his seat on the council of Burchess. He was liar, a murderer, and a cold, conniving bastard.
The guard on the dais pulled Donovan up by his hair and forced him again to his knees, this time bending him over a wood plinth made for one specific purpose. It was likely made from Deltegran wood and would serve as one final reminder to Donovan that his death was brought upon his own head by the very wood he tried to protect.
King Gregory and Prince Harrington took their seats on the balcony. It was then that Illianah saw King Henrick. He looked as if he was already dead and only held up by the vultures who circled him. If she still had a heart, she would give it to the king so that he may live, but she did not know that there was anything in her chest other than a hollow cavity. Her own life felt like it was at an end.
The guard finished tying Donovan to the plinth and then moved to the side of the podium where the executioner held the ax.
Go!
Illianah did not hesitate. She obeyed the voice within her head and shoved through the crowd with such great force that she tripped as she came out into the empty space in front of the dais. She quickly righted herself and ran for the stairs at the side of the podium. Guards rushed at her, but she kept moving forward to where Donovan was strapped to the plinth.
She untied her cloak and let it fall to the ground. “Stop!” she yelled. “You must stop this at once!” Her eyes were not on the crowd, but cast up to the balcony. Her father stood, astonishment upon his face. She knew she hardly looked the part of a princess, but there was no denying the recognition on his face.
“I am Princess Illianah of Burchess,” she said, turning her face to the crowd. “And this man is about to be murdered. He did not send me to my death. He did not maliciously try to inflict pain upon the royals of Burchess. He freed me. He saved me.”
The crowd gasped in one voice, making it sound like wind rushing through the trees of Deltegra. Some of the citizens began to take to their knees, obviously recognizing her as well.
“Illianah.”
She looked down: Donovan had lifted his head so that he could see her, but doing so obviously put him in great pain. She stepped closer and gestured to him as she spoke, “Prince Henrick of Deltegra is innocent of his charges and must not be executed.” She again looked up at her father who was now resting his hands on the edge of the balcony.
Leif came to stand next to her father; the scowl upon the massive prince’s face indicated that he was not happy to see her. Not even a flicker of affection passed through his countenance.
“That man,” she said, pointing to Leif, “wished me dead to gain the sympathies of Liksland and therefore receive their aid in the war. Prince Henrick freed me to save me from falling into the ill hands of Prince Harrington of Liksland, the very man you are lauding with praises for his triumph over the innocent people of Deltegra.”
“Illianah!” Her father’s voice was firm and harsh.
She did not even look at him. “It is true,” she said, her voice louder and bolder. “Burchess waged war on Deltegra, not the other way around.”
Again, gasps came from the crowd, but this time the air seemed to carry disbelief with it.
“Ask my father what King Henrick’s men found when they raided Freidlenburg?” She only looked at her father briefly, but it was long enough to see the anger in his eyes. “The Deltegrans found their lumber and their carts, which had supposedly never been sent across the border. My father, your king, lied to provoke Deltegra into war. He murdered innocent men from Deltegra to hide the evidence of these shipments.”
The people in the crowd had turned their attention away from Illianah and toward the balcony. She cast her eyes up as well. Her father was red-faced, but Leif looked as hard as ever. “Enough!” he yelled, and turned his head to the king. “Will you not stop her lies? She is disillusioned. All one needs is to take a look at her to see that she has gone mad!”
“Have I, Prince Harrington?” she growled back. “How would you know my state of mind since you refused to have me returned to Burchess so you might continue to seek my father’s throne? Does he know of your plans to rule his kingdom, even without me by your side?”
“That is preposterous,” he seethed, but she could see that she had gotten under his skin. He squinted at Illianah as if he was assessing her, but she knew he was really hiding his eyes from the king. Her father would see the guilt embedded within Leif’s eyes; at least she hoped the king would not have lost his powers of discernment.
But her father did not look to Leif. He glowered at her. “Illianah, these are wicked claims you bring forth. What evidence have you?”
“I saw the carts from Deltegra in Freidlenburg, father. I know what you did there.”
The crowd stirred like an angry swarm of bees.
“And I know of how you betrayed Deltegra two years ago. I was to marry Prince Henrick, yet it was denied me because his father discovered you were selling their wood to Liksland at double the cost. You have always wanted their wood, and you forced me to marry Prince Harrington so that you might have reason to use Liksland’s most cunning mind.” She saw her father gesture to a guard on the dais; she knew her time was at hand. Her father would no longer allow her to speak out against him in this manner. “You have been planning the demise of Deltegra my entire life, father,” she yelled, her throat feeling as if it was constricting upon itself. “You have been hoping for this very moment when you could see Prince Henrick’s head roll. Well, it will not happen today!”
She ran to Donovan and cast herself upon his back, grabbing onto his wrists and covering his neck with her own head. If they wished to behead him, they would have to go through her first.
“Illianah, what are you doing? You were free,” he cried, his voice sounding muffled as his cheek was pressed firmly against the plinth.
“I can never be free without you. I love you, Donovan.”
Her tears fell from her eyes and got lost in his thick black hair. But they were not sad tears. She was happy. Happy to be with him at long last.
Chapter Nineteen
It did not take much for the guards to pry Illianah from Donovan’s back. She fought with all her might, but she was no match for six of her father’s best men. While they tied her hands together, she watched helplessly as two more guards moved toward Donovan. She was ready to scream to the crowd for them to riot and rush the dais to stop this senseless death, but the soldiers cut the cords tying Donovan to the plinth and then helped him to his feet.
She looked up to the balcony, where her father, Leif, and King Henrick where. King Henrick’s face was still as white as death, but that deep concern which had been ac
ross his brow was now erased. However, it was not his face that held her interest: it was her father’s. He looked so enraged that he could crush the entire city of St. Moraine with one blow of his fist.
The crowd was strangely silent. Should they not be cheering that this murder was stopped? Should they not be glad that their princess returned home, alive and well? But their eyes were fixed on their king and not on the podium, where the life-altering drama had just occurred. It was as if they waited on him to tell them whether or not they could breathe.
“This is all very … strange, startling news,” he said, his deep voice booming across the courtyard, reminding her that he was, in fact, so powerful that he could command the breath to be taken out of his citizens. “Princess Illianah has raised many questions. It is evident that she has been coerced into believing the ways of the Deltegrans: the kingdom who has forgotten we are kin.” King Gregory sounded distraught, as if he really felt betrayed by his far-removed cousins: the Da Vias.
It made Illianah’s stomach sour. The people of Burchess needed to know that they were being deceived. “You lie. You have never liked King Henrick or the people of Deltegra. You …”
A hand was quickly placed across her mouth, rendering her unable to speak.
“A trial for Princess Illianah will commence immediately in the throne room,” the king said.
The crowd was no longer silent, nor were they waiting to be told when they could speak: they were crying out in support of Illianah. “No!” she heard several voices yell.
“On trial for what?” one loud voice asked.
“What are her charges?” asked another.
King Gregory held his hand out, as if he could calm the crowd by that simple gesture. “The charges against Princess Illianah shall be announced forthwith. A retrial for Prince Henrick will be held as well. He is no longer charged with murder, but the crime of adultery will now be added to the docket.”
No. No! Illianah tried yelling, but the large, brutish guard still covered her mouth with his hand.
The Reign of Trees Page 24