Red Rider Redemption (The Red Rider Saga Book 3)

by D. A. Randall

  “Papa!”

  I met Monsieur Leóne’s eyes. Behind the rage, I sensed something else. The fear and desperation of a man who knew that my very presence placed him and his family in danger. “I understand,” I said. “I was just leaving.”

  I stepped past Monsieur Leóne and peered outside to make sure no one was watching.

  “Red, wait!”

  I glanced back at Pierre, one final time. Wondering how I would continue on without his constant care. Wondering how long fifty bolts might last. I would need to be more diligent in retrieving my spent bolts from the forest. In any case, I couldn’t let the Lycanthru find Pierre, or know we had anything to do with one another. It was better to live without him, knowing he would be safe. “Goodbye, Pierre.”

  I scanned the outer yard once more, then led Crimson outside.

  “Red,” Pierre called behind me.

  I mounted Crimson and urged him quickly into the cover of the forest, without looking back.

  MY RESCUE

  16.

  Near the center of town, we met small groups of people clustered together, hunching over to share some special gossip. Several of them turned sharply as Crimson’s hooves clomped past them, but they quickly resumed their private conversations. The sight of my red hooded cloak and fiery horse had become more normal. Or else something more exciting had gripped their attention.

  A small mob of women had gathered in front of a shop, chatting and giggling as they stared at something there. I dismounted and marched over to them. They all noticed me clearly now. Their faces fell and they stepped aside, making a path for me as I looked to see what they were fixated on.

  On the shop/s outer wall, a picture had been posted. It was a sketch drawing of Chateau de Laurent.

  A seething rage rode up into my shoulders. It was the last place I had faced Duke Laurent, as he entertained the royal ambassador. The night he cursed me, after his men had failed to devour me.

  I took the notice from the wall. It announced the royal masquerade ball that Pierre had told me about. To be held by Duke Laurent at eight o’clock tomorrow night, to welcome the Queen of France to La Rue Sauvage for the first time in history.

  By invitation only.

  My chest heaved as I read the details, aware of the smothering crowd and their awkward air. This was the important business Laurent had to tend to the other night. He couldn’t join the others at the barn to devour me until late in the evening, because he was hosting the ambassador. I was too enraged, too frightened, to think of it when I burst in on his private meeting, but everyone knew Duke Laurent had fallen from favor with the court at Versailles. He had been banished here, assigned to oversee La Rue Sauvage as a merciful punishment for his offense, whatever it was. But he had no contact with the royal family since that time, since before I was born, apart from the letters he claimed to have sent them.

  So why would he have the opportunity to entertain a royal ambassador? More important, why would Her Majesty – of all people – choose to visit the Duke now?

  I crumpled the poster in my fist as the women around me exhaled in shock and disgust. I let the ball of wasted paper fall to the pavement before turning away to climb on Crimson’s saddle.

  I set my jaw. What was Laurent planning?

  I sat atop Crimson in the center of the cobblestone street and waited, ignoring the gasps and shrieks of onlookers. Duke Laurent’s carriage approached, heading straight toward me. Its driver yanked back on the reins when he saw the point of my repeating crossbow aimed at his head.

  “Stop,” I said.

  He stared at me, dumbfounded. His horses snorted and settled into place.

  No one moved. Villagers murmured behind me. A woman told someone to fetch the police. I fixed my eyes on the driver and the carriage, and waited.

  Just past Laurent’s carriage, Jacque Denue and two of his friends started across the street, pausing as they saw me. Anger surged in my cheeks as Denue gaped at me in shock. I’m sure my incessant bully didn’t expect to see me again, after turning me over to the Lycanthru a few days ago, to be eaten alive. He was probably heading back to run another errand for them, or to beg forgiveness for his failure. He watched me, not moving.

  The rear door finally flew open. “Lafayette, is something wrong?”

  Laurent’s boot stepped down. I tugged Crimson around to greet him. Laurent halted halfway down the steps as he met my crossbow, aimed squarely between his eyes. “Good afternoon, Monsieur.”

  He recovered quickly, resting a hand against the carriage. “Well, well, Helena. Up and about in a matter of days. I’m impressed.”

  “I don’t care.” I edged Crimson closer.

  Jacque Denue cast an anxious glance up at Laurent, then moved to intercept me. “You better keep your place, witch, if you know what’s good for –!”

  In an instant, I was off of Crimson’s back and hitting the ground with both feet. In the next, I kicked down hard on Denue’s kneecap. He howled in pain as I shoved him aside with my boot and kept walking.

  I trained my crossbow on Laurent. The surrounding spectators held their breath, not one of them daring to intervene. I wondered if any of the villagers had anticipated this day. If they knew Laurent and his men tried to kill me. If they knew the Lycanthru feared me at least as much as I feared them.

  Laurent licked his lips, clearly thinking. Scheming. “You look well, Helena. Except, of course, for the, ah …” He made a circular gesture about his face to indicate my triple scars. “But that can’t be helped, can it?”

  I offered him a grim smile. “Wars take a toll, Monsieur Laurent. I believe your losses bring you down to twenty-seven now.”

  He straightened and made a show of confusion. “I don’t know what you’re referring to, Helena.”

  “Of course you don’t.”

  “You! Drop your weapon!”

  Lieutenant-General Sharrad stood fifteen feet to my right, his pistol aimed at my head. I could see him well enough without turning from Laurent.

  “You shoot me, I shoot him. No more Lord Laurent.”

  Silence.

  “It’s all right, Sharrad. Helena appears to be upset. But I’m sure we can resolve this peacefully. Put down your pistol.”

  “But, Monsieur –!”

  “Down, I said!” he barked. Sharrad did as he was commanded, and Laurent settled into a tolerant smile. “Now, Helena. How are you feeling? I heard you were ill.”

  I circled around him, putting the carriage horses between myself and Sharrad. Securing a clear shot at Duke Laurent’s forehead. “I’m fully recovered. Thank you for asking.”

  He eyed me with distaste. “I’m curious. What did you do to recover so quickly?”

  “I’m more interested in your party to welcome the Queen. I thought the King banished you.”

  He lifted his palms up slowly. Carefully. His face softening into grief. “Sadly, the King is no more, as you are surely aware. His passing has left the country in a state of concern, with his sole heir being a child, far too young to rule in his place. Her Majesty has graciously accepted my invitation to put our differences aside, in the interest of building a unified France.”

  I blinked. “France?”

  “Yes, Mademoiselle,” he said. “After all, we have waged war with one country or another for centuries. We need strong leadership to protect our fragile borders. The invasions that occurred less than twenty years ago might threaten again at any time. But our enemies will reconsider such attacks when they see the power of our new throne.”

  A chill ran through me. Laurent recognized it and grinned. “You’re still trying to steal the throne,” I said quietly. “You invited the Queen here to kill her and take over, as the next in line.”

  He shrugged again as Sharrad came around the other side of the carriage. The Lieutenant-General stood behind the Duke, barely containing his devilish grin.

  The Duke folded his hands in a humble pose. “It is true, as the King’s half-brother, it is my duty
to assume the throne, should anything happen to Her Majesty, and of course, to her five-year old son. But, Helena, do you seriously imagine I could plot to kill our Queen? That would be impossible to even attempt. Her Majesty is no fool. She knows that a show of forgiveness toward me will help strengthen our country, but she’s not about to ignore all the charges brought against me. No, she has consented to come and she’s on her way. But she’ll be surrounded at all times by armed guards. She’ll be well-protected against any form of attack.” His head dropped to his chin as he smiled. “As our ball runs late into the night.”

  I shuddered at the thought of Laurent and the Lycanthru devouring the Queen and assuming control of the monarchy.

  “Everyone’s talking about this, Helena,” Laurent continued. “It’s going to be the premier event of the springtime. All young maidens are expected to attend, for the singular opportunity to mingle with royalty.” He made a sympathetic pout. “However, although it is a masquerade ball, maidens who dress like men would present an oddity that might offend Her Majesty. I’m sorry to say – you are not invited.”

  I seized the crossbow lever, ready to pull back. Sharrad grabbed at his pistol while Laurent put up a hand to halt him, smiling.

  “Really, Helena. You have your whole life ahead of you. Do you wish to spend it rotting in the Bastille prison for murdering your Duke in the streets?”

  I blew out an angry breath. “You’ll never get the people to come to your sick massacre,” I hissed. “I’ll warn them all off.”

  “Ah. Let me assist you.” He stepped to the center of the cobblestone street and turned, lifting his arms to the crowd. “Madames and Monsieurs. Everyone! Please, heed this warning. Our wolf-chasing young friend here, Helena Basque, insists that you refrain from attending my gala, as she fears that I might eat you all!”

  The villagers roared with laughter on every side. I bit my lip, keeping my weapon trained on Laurent. Knowing it was useless.

  Laurent raised his eyebrows. “I don’t think they believe you, Helena.”

  My cheeks burned. Laurent was right. Who in La Rue Sauvage would believe me over him?

  “Drop your weapon!” another voice said behind me.

  “Now!” ordered another beside him.

  Lieutenant-General Sharrad spoke in a tone that was almost friendly. “My men, Mademoiselle. You can surrender or they can shoot you where you stand. Your decision.”

  I stared at Duke Laurent. Standing a few feet away. Considering the best move.

  Laurent didn’t waver. “You’re still wondering if it’s best to shoot. To rid the province of me, as you so colorfully threatened before. Naturally, Helena, I prefer to go on living.” His face turned to stone. “Just know that if you kill me, Simonet will be forced to assume my duties and proceed with our plans for the Queen’s visit. While you will be convicted as a murderer and a traitor to the crown.”

  I felt my lip quivering. I had to stop him somehow.

  But how?

  I lowered the crossbow, as all the villagers watched, and bent to lay it on the street.

  “Good work, men,” Sharrad said, marching at me.

  An officer pinned my arms behind me as I continued to face Laurent. Then Lieutenant-General Sharrad stepped past me, drawing some rope from his belt and pushing his man aside. “I’ll handle her,” he said, seizing my wrists and binding them together painfully.

  Laurent stroked his chin. “Helena, your behavior of late has been – most concerning. I’m going to recommend that you be provided with immediate treatment, to cure you of these dangerous delusions. But for now, I can’t have you interfering with the Queen’s visit. I’m afraid I’ll have to press charges.”

  I struggled against Sharrad’s grip, but his arms were like granite. He was smart to handle me himself instead of letting another policeman try it. I was no match for his Lycanthru strength, but I tried to wriggle free, anyway. “That’s wise,” I said, grunting. “Before I press you into the ground!”

  Laurent strode forward as Sharrad pressed my arms up against my back. The Duke held my chin, his cold eyes narrowing. “I have always cared for you, Helena. But such wild hostility needs to be contained. As much as I owe your family, Helena, I can’t allow a deranged young girl to run around town, making threats and spreading rumors to upset the Queen.”

  Sharrad snorted at my neck. “Don’t try to resist, Mademoiselle. I would hate to get rough.”

  He ordered an officer to collect my crossbow and Crimson, who reared and kicked at him, knocking him aside.

  “Settle your horse, Helena,” Laurent said with a tone of quiet warning. “Or I’ll order some other men to handle him. Men who would be less gentle.”

  I swallowed, remembering the cruel trappings that the Lycanthru had put Crimson in the other night. “Crimson!” I called. “Crimson, it’s all right. Easy, boy. Easy.”

  Crimson calmed, but continued to snort at Laurent and Sharrad as another officer cautiously led him away.

  “Wise choice, Mademoiselle,” Sharrad said at my ear. He pushed my arms up again, sending shooting pains all the way to my shoulders. I clenched my teeth to keep from crying out and alarming Crimson.

  Duke Laurent regarded my position with obvious approval, then nodded at Lieutenant-General Sharrad and his comrades. “Make sure she’s well taken care of. We’ll follow you there.”

  “Yes, Lo – Your Grace,” Sharrad said.

  “It’s unfortunate that you’ll miss the royal ball, Helena,” Laurent said, turning back to his carriage. “When all of this is over, we’ll have to find some other way to entertain you.”

  I grunted and tugged against Sharrad’s iron arms. Laurent cast a smug glance toward me, climbing into his carriage as the Lieutenant-General and his officers dragged me away.

  17.

  My wrists were still bound tight when the officers forced me into the local police station, La Maréchaussée de La Rue Sauvage. Lieutenant-General Sharrad muscled me through the front door, kicking it open. Then he shoved me into the small square office that held a worn but sturdy desk, facing two cells with iron bars.

  Keeping a hand locked on my wrists, he bent me over the desktop, pinning my cheek to its splintered surface. “Welcome to your new home, ‘Red Rider’,” he growled.

  I struggled to lift my head, but he was too strong. I couldn’t move an inch.

  “I’ll handle her,” he told the other two officers. “Get back outside and keep the crowds away. I don’t want anyone else stirring up trouble like this girl. Everything must go smoothly for the Queen’s visit.”

  “Yes, Monsieur,” one man replied, and they both marched out.

  I grit my teeth. “They don’t know what you really are, do they?”

  “They’ll know soon enough,” Sharrad said. “After tomorrow night, we’ll own this province. Just like we own you.”

  He shoved my arms upward again for emphasis. I groaned at the shooting pain in my elbows.

  “You know what I would love to do, Mademoiselle?” he purred. “I’d love to break every bone in your body, one by one. At the ankles, legs, wrists, arms, pelvis, back. Leave you quivering in agony, unable to move, barely able to breathe, but still alive. Still plenty alive to suffer when we feast.” He grumbled. “Unfortunately – Lord Laurent has reserved the pleasure of torturing you himself, before the entire order.” He leaned against my neck, whispering into my ear. “But he has assured me, I’ll have my turn with you.”

  I struggled against him in vain as his large hand closed firmly on my wrist. “Perhaps he won’t mind a little damage. A few broken fingers. Or a snapped wrist. Anything to let me see you writhe in pain.”

  He chuckled as I shifted my legs, trying to shift my weight enough to throw him off balance. But he was smothering me like a lead blanket.

  “Lieutenant-General!” interrupted an officer, returning to the door.

  Sharrad relented, easing his pressure slightly. “I thought I told you to keep the crowds away,” he snapped.
/>   The officer’s voice wavered. “I’m – I’m sorry, Lieutenant-General. The Duke has arrived.”

  Sharrad stood, allowing me room to stand up. But as I tried to push away from the desk, I found that he still pinned me there, with only one hand on my back. “Lord – er, Duke Laurent. Here’s the prisoner. I was about to put her in her cell.”

  A cold silence.

  “Well, don’t let me stop you, Lieutenant-General,” Laurent said casually.

  Sharrad yanked me to my feet, tugging me across the room. With a jangling and clicking of large keys, he unlocked the cell door and creaked it open, then hurled me inside. I whirled to face him as the iron door locked shut.

  Duke Laurent turned to the officer. “Thank you for seeing me in, Monsieur. You may return to your duties.”

  The officer gave a sharp nod and marched out.

  Laurent stepped forward, regarding me with his hands folded. “Excellent,” he said. “Just the way I like you, Helena.” I gripped the bars and he suddenly seized my hands, holding me in place. “How does it feel to be utterly helpless? Again, in such a short time?”

  I clenched my jaw and tried to pry my fingers loose as he watched me with delight.

  “Get used to it, Helena. I have no idea how you broke free of that curse, but you won’t be leaving this cell. At least, not until I decide on a more permanent prison for you. Somewhere we can visit you frequently, to continue your punishment for as long as possible. For now, rest here as the afternoon fades and we prepare for tomorrow’s festivities. Knowing there’s nothing you can do to stop the inevitable coup.”

  I jerked at my hands until he finally released them, laughing as I curled them into fists. “You won’t succeed in assassinating the Queen,” I hissed. “Even if I can’t stop you, others will see through you soon enough!”

  “Really? Who?” he pressed. “Who else do you expect to oppose us, Helena?”