by Karalynn Lee
She stood and walked over to the window. For once she didn’t bother to cover up against the winds that swept across her face. The cold made it easier to keep her thoughts sharp and out of the haze she longed to sink into.
Beatris’s words echoed in her mind. I thought you might ride all the way to Kenasgate on your own to try to rescue your brother.
She didn’t know where she was going until she found herself climbing the steps of the watchtower two at a time. Herrol still stayed there most of the time, he said because he could see Kenasgate in the distance. He was leaning against the battlements.
“Herrol.”
He turned and lost his smile when he saw her face. “What’s happened?”
She tugged him down the stairs to where they wouldn’t be overheard by the guard. “They have my brother.”
It took him a moment to understand. When he did, his face went so blank she knew he was hiding his exultation. She was grateful to him for that. “Kenasgate will treat him well,” Herrol said. “Perhaps not as finely as the mountain-king has treated me, but—”
The same excuse. She cut him off. “I want to trade you for him.”
His eyes widened and he seized her shoulders. “Kimri, what are you saying?”
The words tumbled from her mouth. “I’ll return you to Kenasgate. You’ll be home. They’ll have their heir back. And I’ll have my brother.”
He let her go. “I’m the mountain-king’s ransom-prisoner, and you’re not even the queen yet. You don’t have the right to trade me.”
“I’ll take you out secretly.”
“I don’t doubt you would,” he murmured. “And I suppose I gave my word not to escape from the commandant, not from Helsmont.”
“I’m also the one who disarmed you. Perhaps that does make you my hostage.”
He paced away up the stairs, then spun back. “I’m but an heir. Hardly a fitting bargain for a king.”
She stared up at him. He’s objecting? “What more can I give them?”
His mouth slanted in something like a smile. “Yourself?”
“I’m not worth anything.”
“And yet you were traded for an unprecedented alliance and the finest of weapons.”
“As a bride-to-be,” she said, then stopped. He couldn’t be suggesting what she thought he was.
Herrol took a step down toward her. He stood very close to her now, watching her intently.
She hugged herself. “I’m betrothed.”
“Don’t you think I would be asking you in a more traditional way if you weren’t?”
“We’re at war—”
“What better way to forge peace?”
She swallowed. Her mouth was dry of words.
His hands rested gently on her shoulders then moved upward, very slowly, to frame her face. “Kimri,” he whispered.
She closed her eyes when he kissed her. It was a gentle, tentative thing, not unpleasant, but different. She responded out of reflex more than anything else. Her lips tingled after he lifted his head. She found she was shivering.
“I’ll ride with you to Kenasgate,” he said. “I’d be mad not to. And on the way there…think on it?”
Still unable to speak, she nodded.
She liked Herrol. She didn’t want to marry him. Yet if that was the price she had to pay for Dereth’s freedom…
Of course, Dereth would want to strangle her for unraveling the careful alliance he’d crafted. But she’d tried to stand by that, and look what his so-called ally did.
She burned at the memory of how Tathan had turned away from Dereth. I will not lose my brother.
“We’ll need horses,” she said, steeling herself against the pain in that word. “The stable hands break for dinner in a couple of hours. They’ll be distracted. We can try to get mounts then.” She would have preferred to wait until nightfall, but while Herrol had the freedom of the city during daytime as long as someone he accompanied him—she counted as sufficient escort—he was expected back in the watchtower by sundown.
“Supplies too,” he said. “It’s not an easy ride to Kenasgate.”
“I know the folk in the kitchens. I’ll be able to get some food, at least. And I still have my saddlebags.”
“Good. We’ll need to travel fast and light anyway, so we won’t need too much. How will we get out of the city? I’m not allowed past the gates.”
“I know a way,” she said, remembering what Merinee had once told her about secret exits.
Neither of them had the patience to lay more careful plans. She went back up the stairs to talk to the guard. Good. Someone I don’t know. “We’re going out into the city.” She resisted the urge to pile on additional explanation. Better to keep it simple.
The guard nodded, and she burned with shame at how easily he accepted her lie.
In the kitchens, she somehow summoned the semblance of a lighter spirit to wheedle some oatcakes from the cook. She couldn’t ask for too many without arousing suspicions, and they took up all too little space in her saddlebags. Feeling like gutter scum, she went to Emeray’s to see what more she could scrounge.
She couldn’t hide her jitteriness from the baker, who insisted on plying her with baked goods to comfort her. When she mumbled something about taking the pastries away with her for future enjoyment, Emeray’s gaze was sympathetic, and she uncharacteristically let Kimri go without pressing for more conversation. Had she already heard about Redwing? She felt sick but thanked Emeray sincerely. The pastries might provide the only sweetness on her journey.
She and Herrol bundled a blanket and her extra cloak as a makeshift bedroll. All they needed now were horses. But she was slow about closing her saddlebags, and her fingers lingered on the buckle afterward.
“Are you sure you want to do this?”
Her head jerked up and she checked Herrol’s expression. His mouth was drawn tight but he seemed to truly mean the question. Her guilt must be painfully obvious.
“Yes,” she said, willing it to be true. If she stopped and thought about it for too long, she would lose her nerve.
They went down the stairs and through the courtyard, trying not to look suspicious to anyone they passed on the way to the stables.
Taking mounts was easier than she’d hoped. They were used to her presence in the stables, and even despite the earlier accident, didn’t wonder why she was there. Herrol tipped over a hanging basket, spilling grain everywhere, and in the ensuing chaos of interested horses and cursing stable hands, she managed to lead two of the mountain ponies out the back and even snagged a bag of fodder on her way.
“Could you only get stunted ones out without notice?” Herrol eyed their mounts dubiously.
She patted one’s muzzle. “They’re mountain ponies. They’re strong and do better on the trails here. Also, they’re calmer than most of the horses. I didn’t want to risk a stray whinny catching attention.”
They walked the ponies eastward to the hawthorn tree Merinee had told her about. The postern was cleverly hidden, matching the pattern of the stone wall around it, and only just wide enough for their ponies to fit through one at a time. I hope Merinee won’t remember that she mentioned it to me. Surely no one would think of their escaping through it if it hadn’t been used for so long.
Herrol closed the postern behind them. “How did you find out about this?”
“What, your spy didn’t tell you about it?”
He didn’t say anything for a moment, and she remembered she had never seen any sign of this spy. Perhaps he had been discovered and disposed of.
Herrol sighed. “No. I’m just glad you knew.”
They hadn’t dared take tack as well, so Herrol folded a blanket over the back of his pony and swung a leg over, looking as though he expected the creature to collapse at the first settling of his weight. When it proved equal to the task, he let out a breath. “Right then, let’s go.”
Dereth was right to warn me not to run away. She mounted her pony. Perhaps she was doomed to abs
cond from any kingdom she came to.
The path was steep and rocky, quickly dropping them out of sight of the keep’s walls. It had been neglected, overgrown in places with prickly nettles that she held back with her gloved hands so they wouldn’t score the hides of their ponies. This was one road the guards had never bothered keeping clear, perhaps to better conceal it.
She’d been outside in the mountains before, with guards or with Tathan, but after only a few dozen steps, this time already felt different: the peaks seemed to cast ominous shadows over their path. An eagle soared overhead, just like on the day she’d first come to Helsmont. Unease settled in the pit of her stomach, lead-heavy, but she urged her pony onward, away from the city and her mountain-king.
Chapter Seven
The trail narrowed so much they had to walk their ponies. It was a scant reassurance that anyone following them would also have to do the same. Merinee had also mentioned alternative routes, after all. And in shadowed areas that saw little sun, there were still frozen mounds of snow where they had to step carefully lest they slip. She would never have dared this path under normal circumstances. At least there were enough scrubby mountain shrubs for their ponies to occasionally browse upon.
Traveling with Herrol this time was a far cry from their previous journey, when he’d been a ransom-prisoner and yet lighter-hearted. They traveled in grim silence, hoping their head start and willingness to travel light and long would keep the Helsmont guards from catching up to them. Instead of stopping to eat, they gnawed on bread while walking their horses, not thinking past the need to place one foot in front of the other. Sometimes the steep slopes strained her knees. She became acutely conscious of all the aches she’d suffered from the rockfall, tried to ignore them and when that didn’t work, switched to cataloguing them instead.
To her surprise, they saw no signs of pursuit on the first day, and even the second passed without anyone coming up behind them. By the third they had relaxed a bit.
“They would have searched the city for us first,” she said as they watered their mounts at a small spring they’d discovered seeping out from a fissure in the rock wall. The water was icy cold, but she didn’t hesitate to drink it. “And they might not have realized the ponies were gone until nightfall, when it’d be dangerous for a search party to set out.”
Herrol scrubbed at his eyes, which were red-rimmed from poor sleep. They’d tried taking turns keeping watch at night so that they might have some warning should the guards close in on them, but Kimri had fallen asleep the first night without waking him. He’d been angry until he’d done the same the next night. “I still would’ve thought they’d have caught up to us by now. They know these mountains better than we do.”
“Don’t question our luck,” she said, remembering how Dereth had always teased her about drawing trouble like a lodestone. Then again, wasn’t she the cause of the trouble this time? She finished filling her waterskin and stashed it away. “Let’s keep going.”
Eventually the slope of their path gentled and widened. Encouraged, they pressed on even as evening gave way to night. Just when she was about to call a halt, Herrol stopped.
“We’re in Kenasgate.” His posture was different now, a stiffness gone.
She could actually smell it. The air of Helsmont was crisper, invigorating her lungs every time she inhaled. Here it was warmer and the air felt heavier, more humid. And she was no longer bracing her legs against an ever-present incline.
“Will we have any trouble reaching the capitol?” she asked.
He shook his head. “The war hit the river-side of the kingdom badly, but we reached treaty with Mirland to the east several years ago, and there are often travelers and traders.” He reached over and grabbed her hand. “We did it!” He leaned toward her to kiss her, and she couldn’t help flinching away.
He stopped, his elation draining away. “You don’t want to marry me, do you?”
“Herrol… You’re like another brother to me. The way we banter—it’s just like with Dereth.”
“Perhaps your feelings will change.” But his face was bleak. He dropped her hand.
She couldn’t imagine her feelings changing the same way they had with Tathan. Even when she’d been reluctant about her betrothal, something about the mountain-king had intrigued her. Herrol offered nothing except the cold certainty of having to live in a kingdom that had brought many deaths to hers.
She turned aside the topic. “Do you think we can set camp for tonight?”
He nodded. “We’ll be safe. The Helsmont guards won’t come this far. No need to keep watch tonight.”
She couldn’t muster the same enthusiasm, but she did share a smile of relief with him. She still couldn’t believe that the guards hadn’t caught up to them, but he was right, it was too late for them now. Helsmont had become strict about keeping other soldiers out of its borders, and could hardly send its guards to encroach the same. “We can stop somewhere tomorrow to reprovision,” she said. Their hastily gathered supplies, hardly abundant in the first place, were already depleted.
“We should keep moving quickly, though.”
Dereth. He was still being held prisoner by Kenasgate. “Yes.”
But today they were exhausted to their limits, and having reached the border, they celebrated by eating the last crumbs of the oatcakes. They even dared lay a proper fire, and despite their commitment to speed, slept later into the morning than usual, sheer relief finally granting them restful sleep.
* * *
In the light of the morning, the forests of Kenasgate didn’t look all that different from those Anagard. The trees were of familiar types, enough so that she found some edible plants for their breakfast. But as they made their way through the thickly wooded area, she grew completely disoriented. Herrol led them onward with confidence, though.
“Do you know where we are?” she asked as they picked their way along what looked to her like a deer trail.
He threw her a wry smile over his shoulder. “This is the route I took to catch you in the mountains. Just in the other direction.”
“Was the ambush your idea?”
He shook his head. “One of my father’s commandants came up with the scheme. I went because I’d led a fair number of raids by way of Helsmont, so I knew the land, and my father was always challenging me and my brother to prove ourselves.”
She remembered the troop she’d secretly joined, which had gone through Helsmont for the same purpose. How much of the war had been played out through the mountain kingdom’s border trails before the treaty had sealed them off?
And how many Anagard men did Herrol kill on those raids?
“There’s a village nearby,” he was saying. “There’ll be soldiers posted there, and we can trade our ponies for courier-mounts.”
She felt a pang at the thought of abandoning the mountain ponies, who were unlikely to be appreciated in the flat, warm lands of Kenasgate. But he was right that their short legs and patient spirits would gain them no advantage in the riverlands. She only hoped the soldiers would recognize Herrol and let him commandeer horses. Their days in the mountains had left them both looking like wild folk, unkempt and gritty and none too fragrant. They hadn’t had the time—nor had she quite the heart—to bathe in the chilly mountain springs.
Herrol’s sense of direction proved true, and they rode into a small settlement before long.
“This village has a garrison?” She looked around the motley collection of straw-thatched cottages. What here could be worth guarding? Many of the houses were simple one-room structures, and the dirt paths between them didn’t have the deep ruts wagons usually left. She couldn’t imagine proper stables in this place.
“I don’t think there’s an inn here. They’ll probably be staying in a nearby barn.”
“I meant that it seems strange to post men here at all.”
Chickens wandered through the streets, undisturbed by their presence. The villagers were likely out working. They didn’t see
any people until a boy came out and spied them, yelped and ran off before they could exchange any words.
Herrol ignored the boy to respond to her. “It’s close to Helsmont.”
“Which has never attacked any other realm.”
“My father hardly trusted that to hold true after the alliance with Anagard.” He shook his head. “I still want to know what your brother said to the mountain-king to make him agree.”
Oh, Tathan. She thought of how he’d seen her in her soldier’s garb in the mountains, and her heart constricted. “It wasn’t anything Dereth said.” But her words were soft and swept away by the tumult of soldiers riding up to them.
This was not a unit of raw recruits, posted here for appearance’s sake. These men were older and hard-eyed, marked by scars and with far too easy a hand upon their weapons. They circled her and Herrol in a din of neighing horses and squawking chickens. Behind them she glimpsed the boy who’d fled earlier, apparently to report their presence.
The commandant of the troop brandished his sword. “Tell me who you are and why you’re here.” The soldiers’ horses pressed in on them until even the mountain ponies grew nervous.
Herrol sat straight in the saddle and looked directly at him. “You should know who I am.” He spoke with the assurance of a commandant, and for the first time she saw him as a prince who could lead an army. Even astride his mountain pony, grimy and travel-worn, he carried unmistakable authority.
The commandant’s sneer slipped. “My prince!” The soldiers hastily lowered their swords at his frantic gesture. “Forgive me. We thought you were still in Helsmont.”
“I escaped,” Herrol said, “with the aid of Princess Kimri.”
The commandant eyed her suspiciously. “Of Anagard?”
“Yes.”
The boy suddenly lunged forward. “Anagard filth!” He scooped up a rock and flung it at her. It hit her cheek in a burst of pain, making her head snap to one side.
Herrol seized his reins, but his pony was still penned in by the soldiers’ horses. “Grab him!”
A new clamor arose as the soldiers tried to catch the boy, but he was too nimble for them. “Let him go,” she called even as she gingerly felt her face. She didn’t feel any blood, just scraped skin and some swelling. There was no real harm done, and the sight of hardened soldiers chasing after a child couldn’t be borne.