Lose A Princess, Lose Your Head (Merchant Blades Book 2)

by Alex Avrio

  “Our relations,” he finally said, defeat in his tone.

  “Well, just because we went to bed together–” Schaefer stopped. Her expression changed. Her hand went to her scarred mouth.

  “You insufferable swine. You thought you were doing me a favor?” she asked. Morgenstern looked away.

  “Have you seen your own face?” she hissed.

  “I got this in service to our country,” Morgenstern said.

  “Whilst I got this brushing my hair?” Schaefer turned her back and walked away, and then turned again and strode over to Regina and Jaeger, ignoring Morgenstern.

  “What makes you think that they’re heading to Korthi?” she asked.

  “The hostage-brokers operate there. Well, there and in Pella, but Pella’s too far away. The Black Fox won't ransom them himself. Too risky. He’ll cash them in for what he can get from the brokers in Korthi. Then they’ll contact the Prince of Eraden to work out a ransom.”

  “Fair enough,” she said. “Major?”

  “I think that’s a reasonable assumption,” Morgenstern said in a subdued voice. “Give the orders to the men. We must intercept them before they cross the border.”

  The bandits made camp deep in the forest long after nightfall, in a clearing known only to them and wild animals. The tents had gone up quickly, they'd set fires which now had pots hanging over them. The three young women were sitting close together in front of a fire, each with a blanket wrapped around her shoulders. Princess Rosamynd was still and quiet, still in shock. Lady Emilia’s eyes sparkled with resentment, her lips pressed tight. Charlie stoked the fire, quietly taking in the environment. She looked around, counting the men, noticing what weapons they had. She recognized many of them. There were a few new recruits since she'd been part of this gang, taking the place of those killed in action or caught and hanged. Charlie bit her lower lip so hard it bled. She wasn’t surprised none of them recognized her now, but there was always the chance of a sharp-eyed man making some trouble.

  The Fox concerned her the most. He was the brains in the camp. If anyone was likely to make the connection between the old Charlie, dressed as a boy, and this Charlie in her maid's dress, it was him. But Charlie also had a weapon. She knew these men: how they thought, how they acted, what made them tick. She could use that to keep them safe until the Hussars came. She wasn’t tempted for a moment to return to this life. For a time it had seemed her only way to survive in this cruel, hostile world. But she’d changed. It hadn’t been her choice to cast her lot with the Merchant Blades, and for a while she had to fight for her very life. Then the mercenaries had risked their lives for her when they could have left her behind. Regina Fitzwaters never left anyone behind. Kapitan Maximillian Jaeger defended each and every one of his people. Even if it meant getting himself killed. Charlie had only known people who dropped you like a hot potato when things got dangerous. That team of Merchant Blades was family. Better. They had stuck round, while her own family–

  A man came. He gave each of the three young women a wooden bowl filled with hot stew, and a wooden spoon. This seemed to be the final straw for Lady Emilia. She stood up and threw the bowl back in the robber’s face. He cursed.

  “I demand to be let free,” she shouted. “How dare you keep me and Lady Rosamynd prisoner. Take us back to the nearest city and I promise some leniency.”

  The men in the camp laughed. The man that had brought the food wiped his face and joined in.

  “Fine then, little madam, don’t eat–” he shrugged.

  “Do you know who my brother is?” she shouted. “He will catch you and string you up at the crossroads. He will dip your corpses in tar. For years to come passers-by will see what happens to vagabonds and scoundrels.”

  There was laughter again, but this time a little less mirth. The Black Fox got up and walked to Emilia.

  “And who is your brother, My Lady?” he asked.

  Charlie jumped up. “Major Kruger, sir,” she said, before Emilia could answer. The laughter died. “Her other brother is Colonel Kruger and her father is General Kruger.”

  The Black Fox studied her face for a moment. “Have we met before?” he asked.

  “I don’t know, sir, maybe.” There was nothing worse than to deny that they’d met. He’d turn her in his mind again and again until he remembered.

  “You say she’s the Krugers' sister?”

  “Yes, sir. You must know how much they love their sister.” Something in those words made the camp a little restless.

  “Well then, remember what Charlie used to say?” the Black Fox told his men. “The Krugers are mean bastards. They hold grudges. Be careful with this lady.”

  “Does this mean we can have no entertainment?” one of the men asked.

  “None,” The Black Fox said. “The ladies need to be unharmed to be ransomed. You don’t want the Krugers coming after us. They’ll do to us whatever we’ve done to the ladies, ten times over.”

  A murmur of disappointment rippled through the camp.

  “What about her then?” someone shouted, pointing at Charlie. “She’s no noble.” Charlie’s heart beat faster. Her hand felt for the dagger in her sleeve. The Black Fox moved closer to her and put his hand on her chin. He leaned close.

  “Idiots. I have to work with idiots. I can only apologize,” he whispered to her.

  “There will be no tampering of any kind,” he announced. “If we mess with her, they might not believe we haven’t touched the others.” There was another rumble. “And they’ll pay us less.” The men turned back to their food and drink.

  The Black Fox addressed the ladies. “I would beg of you to be a little more agreeable. I truly do not wish to hurt any of you. We shall get to Korthi soon and things will be more civilized. Until then I ask for your cooperation and tolerance.”

  “Of course, sir,” Charlie replied. The other two ladies did not grace him with an answer.

  “What’s your name then?” he asked.

  “Kat, sir.”

  He smiled warmly. “Good night then, clever Kat. You remind me of a friend of mine.”

  After he’d left the young women huddled together again close to the fire.

  “Please, my lady,” Charlie said to Emilia, “don’t give them reason to hurt us. Just do as they say and the soldiers will find us.”

  “Very well,” Emilia conceded, clearly shaken at how the fortune of their virtue had been discussed and debated like the price of bread.

  “I don’t know why they think Colonel and Major Kruger are so bad. I have met both of them in the ballroom and they are delightful gentlemen,” Emilia said after a while.

  “Let’s just say,” Charlie commented, “that you don’t want to meet them in the bedroom.”

  20 UGLY TRUTHS

  SHE reluctantly climbed the steps of the tower. Her new husband had requested her presence. There was light enough to see her way, but only as a courtesy to her. He didn’t need it. The smoke of aromatic candles and the heaviness of contemplation filled his study. The walls were lined with bookcases and books, in the middle a large oak desk and a luxurious leather chair behind. What use were books to him?

  “I am glad that you are here, my dear. We have much to discuss.”

  She adjusted her long skirts as she sat opposite him. On a small table beside him sat a decanter and two glasses. He gestured for her to pour for them both. She gave him a glass, and waited for him to drink first. A smile formed on his lips. The candlelight reflected on his dark glasses.

  He wasn’t handsome, but not repulsive either. The years between them were not so many as to make the match unseemly. In their position, marriage was for purpose not love. The only woman she knew who had married for love was her mother. She wondered if things would have been different if her mother hadn’t died young.

  She shouldn't be too upset. This man, her husband, was Enrico di Korthi, son of the Duchess of Korthi, heir to the Dukedom. Many women of rank would have welcomed the chance for this advancement,
the opportunity to be one day the Duchess of Korthi, one of the richest Dukedoms in the south peninsula. She did not. Enrico di Korthi was blind. Bianca di Angelo had not been pleased when her uncle, the Duke of Pella, had announced this wedding to her.

  “How are you settling?” Enrico asked.

  “Well, thank you,” Bianca replied.

  “Is everything to your satisfaction?” His voice was smooth as velvet. He was always soft-spoken. His power was in words not fists.

  “My Lord, I have no complaints.”

  “I am pleased to hear it,” he said, and took another sip of the ruby-red wine. He gently put down the glass. “I hear that you dress modestly, my dear.”

  Bianca brought her hand to her scarred throat. A wave of hate filled her, and her face contorted a moment. Then she controlled herself.

  “How did it happen?” Enrico asked.

  “The scarf I was wearing caught on a candle,” she replied coldly. He raised his eyebrows.

  “Such an unfortunate thing to happen to one so beautiful. It does not affect how I value you.”

  Bianca didn’t say anything. Had he called her all this way up to the tower to talk nonsense to her? She hoped this wasn’t an attempt to warm their marriage with conversation and feelings. She dreaded that he would start to recite poetry to her. She couldn’t wait to return to her brother, Francesco, and her ladies. Enrico must have felt something of her feelings, because he moved forward.

  “My dear wife. I know that I would not have been your first choice of husband. Your uncle found the proposition beneficial for various reasons.” He gave her a smile. “He has the prosperity of Pella to think of and this is a renewal of our alliance.” Enrico paused. “He also has his young son to think of.”

  Bianca paled slightly.

  “I have ears, my dear. Francesco thought he would be the next Duke. Suddenly, the Duchess produced a child. Is it possible that Francesco and you hoped the child would not grow? After all, so many unfortunate things happen to children. Fevers, illnesses, accidents.”

  Bianca stood up. “I do not care for your insinuations, sir.”

  “Sit. Down.” It was spoken softly, yet with the power of a thousand cannons.

  Bianca sat down, a curl of resentment on her lips.

  “For my wife I had few specifications. I have certain expectations though. I do not require you to love me, or nonsense of that kind. I do require that you produce children for me. Two should be sufficient. You will then be free to keep your own company, as long as you are discreet. Until then, however, I expect that my wife is chaste and faithful so I am certain the children are mine. That means that your handsome Captain Fortuna will have to return home. I expect that he might want to take his lover with him.”

  Bianca made a move to get up, but Enrico raised his hand and she remained seated. She was not certain whether it was anger that made her feel light-headed. She made to reach for her wine glass but Enrico caught her hand.

  “We do not have much time and we have much to do. No more wine.”

  “Very well, My Lord,” Bianca said, as distastefully as she could.

  “There are many ugly things in the world, Bianca,” Enrico said, “but the ugliest is the truth. We are at a crossroads now. We must decide what is our truth and what path we must walk.” He tilted his head ever so slightly.

  “Do you think you can come here, to Korthi, and have the same influence you had in Pella? That you can make my court follow you?” There was silence. Bianca had run under the full moon. She still held strong allure for the unsuspecting.

  “Let me tell you a story.” Enrico said. “I have been told that my father, the late Duke Gabriel, was a good man. I fear that his only fault was that he was too trusting. He believed in people and for this he was rewarded with murder. The usurpers would have killed my mother too but she begged them on bended knee not to orphan her child. It was this mercy that has brought us here today. The usurpers knew they should not leave an heir of the Duke’s bloodline, for that would lead to trouble in the future. But they could not bring themselves to kill a child of five. They thought they would be merciful and solve two problems at once.”

  Enrico took off his black glasses revealing two brilliant white orbs. Scars surrounded his eyes.

  “They blinded me. They thought an invalid could never claim the throne. Much less a woman with an invalid heir. They were wrong. When we regained our rightful place, I was not gentle. My mercy was of a different kind.” There was an ugly sneer on Enrico’s face.

  “Some confuse mild-mannered with weak, Bianca. It is a dangerous mistake to make. When my mother and I reassumed governance, we purged the court. It is now, and has been for many years, a place of people fiercely loyal to our family. Loyalty proved through persecution and shedding of blood. I can count on every last one not to betray us. I have made it so. Do not think for one moment that you can come here and gain influence: by money, charm, treachery or blackmail.”

  Bianca felt weak and found it hard to breathe. It was almost the opposite of the coming of the full moon. She missed it so. If only she could find out why that gift had suddenly been taken away.

  “Our audience will be over soon,” Enrico assured her. “Here, family matters the most, Bianca. Do you know why I chose you?”

  “No.”

  “Ah. I know things. Your viciousness. Vindictiveness. Voluptuousness.” He smiled at her. She did not return the smile.

  “I know that you and other members of the court had a certain gift. Something beautiful and unique. Something that came suddenly and unexpectedly. A blessing, some might say. Something not of this world. When it was taken away, you felt small and naked, alone and afraid. Worse, you felt powerless. The hunter is now the hunted. Anything with teeth can tear you to pieces. I know how it feels, Bianca, to have something beautiful taken away. I know the thirst for revenge and power needs to be channeled, turned to a greater cause.”

  Bianca stared at him in silence. How did he know?

  “So we come to the purpose of this meeting. You used to belong, Bianca. To be a powerful member of a pack. Now you are nothing. I give you the chance to belong to our family. To belong to a pack again. By my wife; work with me, not against me. Offer me allegiance and service and I offer you belonging. You can be Lady Bianca di Korthi, with everything that it entails, in truth, not just in name.” Enrico offered Bianca his hand. “What do you say?”

  Bianca’s eyes shone brightly. She was drawn in by his words. Her instincts told her he spoke the truth. She had missed running with the pack. She and her brother had been cast out of the old one. They were only people now, but still the pain of separation was so great it had felt that her heart had been ripped out. She nodded; realizing he couldn’t see her, she took his hand.

  “Yes. I want to belong with you. With– our family.”

  He smiled. There were embers of genuine warmth in that smile.

  “I am glad. Welcome to the family, my dear wife. Dear Bianca.”

  She smiled back. He took a small silver box out of his waistcoat and gave it to her.

  “Swallow this,” he said. “I suggest that you do not wait long.”

  Bianca put the small pill in her mouth and swallowed.

  “You poisoned me?” she asked in disbelief.

  “I can’t risk insurgency in court,” Enrico replied coolly.

  “But I changed glasses,” Bianca said.

  “The poison was in the wine.” He gave her another smile. “I dare say that our alchemists are better than those in Pella.”

  “How do you know I speak the truth?” she asked.

  “Sometimes it is the people with eyes who do not see. I am certain that you will also convince your brother.”

  There was a short silence.

  “What are you thinking, my dear?” Enrico asked.

  “I am thinking,” Bianca said slowly, “that I have fallen just a little bit in love with you.”

  21 FLOWERS IN HER HAIR

  “FEELIN
G vain today, are we?”

  Jaeger was looking straight at Regina when she emerged from the tent. She looked puzzled. He rummaged through his traveling bag, found a small pouch, unwrapped what turned out to be a small shaving mirror and held it to Regina’s face. Her jaw fell open to see her reflection. Her hair had been elegantly and skillfully braided, tiny flowers woven into the braid.

  “What in the world?” she gasped, bringing a hand up to touch her hair. “How?”

  “Don’t forget to ask who,” Jaeger commented.

  “If you’re waking up so early, find more useful things to do.”

  “My experience is with horse’s tails, not ponies. The forest spirits: they like you I think.”

  Regina stood flabbergasted. The soldiers gave her strange glances as they packed up camp. Spirits! Regina didn’t dare remove the flowers. It would not do to offend sympathetic spirits.

  “Looking good, Captain,” Eleven commented, giggling. Regina didn’t reply. She went through her travel bag to see what she could leave behind as a small thank you. She realized how few ornamental possessions she had. Every item in her kit had purpose. The only exception was the small round tin box Onoria had given her. She opened it, looked at the cream inside and gave it a sniff. It still smelt wonderful. Without thinking she dipped her finger in and rubbed it on her face and hands. Regina finally decided the spirits might like something shiny, so she pulled a button from her cuff and left it on a rock under a tree. As she walked away, she was certain she heard giggling and soft silver laughter.

  Regina got only a lingering look from Lieutenant Schaefer and a derisory snort from Morgenstern. They gathered to confer and Morgenstern unfolded his map.

  “Our best chances to intercept them are here, here and here,” Jaeger said, pointing to places on the map. “After that they’ll pass into Korthi and things will become very difficult.”

  “They won’t become difficult. They’ll very straightforwardly string us all from the trees in the Emperor’s garden so he can see us swing in the morning,” Morgenstern commented.