Morgan’s lazy voice said, “Where is Lainie Bricker?”
Silence. The people she could see were glancing at each other, their faces impassive. Either no one had seen her, or the good people of Longbourne weren’t going to hand one of their own off to a psychopath.
Then she heard a gunshot, and some screams. The Baron said, in his smoothest voice, “The next shot will go through a person instead of that hideous gazebo unless I see Miss Bricker here in front of me in five seconds.”
Telaine instantly moved out of concealment, walking forward until she was next to the gazebo, behind the Baron. “Right here, milord.”
The Baron turned his head at the sound of her voice, then jigged his horse around to face her. He held a sleek pistol Device aloft in one hand and there was no expression on his face. “Miss Bricker. I believe you’ve taken something that belongs to me.”
He’d found out about Sarah. She thought of Mistress Wilson and ice filled her stomach. “I don’t think it was yours in the first place,” she said, trying to match his conversational tone.
He dismounted and came toward her. Behind him, Morgan did the same, his feline smile fixed on her and his eyes fondling her body. She kept her attention on the Baron.
“Miss Bricker,” he said, “I am the lord of this Barony and what I decide is mine will not be disputed. And I refuse to allow my sovereignty to be challenged by a Deviser with no rank and no power.” In an lower voice, he said, “You will not be allowed to take your story down the mountain. I will not waste my time refuting your scurrilous accusations.”
“Your behavior says you’re worried you’ll have to.”
The Baron leveled his gun at Telaine. She held his gaze and tried not to flinch. “I won’t ask for my property back,” he said in a more normal voice. “I’ll take you instead. Morgan will be happy to pay you a great deal of attention. I’m sure I’ll enjoy watching.”
Out of the corner of her eye Telaine saw movement. “No!” she screamed, but it was too late. Ben lowered his head and charged at Morgan, who stepped aside and casually punched him in the jaw. Ben staggered, and Morgan caught him in a chokehold and eyed him as if puzzled by the attack. Then he caught Telaine’s eye.
She didn’t have time to conceal her horror, her fear for Ben, and for a moment, Morgan looked confused. He glanced again at Ben, then back at Telaine, and she knew the instant he figured it out because his eyes widened with fury.
His arm tightened savagely around Ben’s neck, making him arch his back and gasp for air. “Stop it!” Telaine screamed, and took several running steps toward them. Then Morgan’s usual lazy, sinister expression was back. He kicked Ben’s knee, making him drop hard to the ground, and released his chokehold to wrench Ben’s arm up high behind his back.
Ben coughed and hacked and tried to jerk away from Morgan’s grip. In the next instant Morgan had his knife at Ben’s throat, and Ben went perfectly still. “submit, and i won’t hurt him,” he said with a laugh that had no mirth in it.
Telaine turned away and dropped to one knee in front of the Baron, cold gravel digging into her leg. “I’ll go with you if you leave the townspeople alone,” she said quietly, her throat closing up. She looked once more at Morgan and saw him turn the blade so the edge rested across the vein. He knew. And he would kill Ben no matter what she promised him.
“Please, make him stop, milord,” she added, her hand drifting to her boot. If she did nothing, Ben would die. If she missed, Ben would die. She had one chance. Dear heaven, if I only hit one thing in my life, let it be this target. She kept her eyes locked on Morgan’s, pleading with him as her fingers gripped the hilt of her knife. Then in one movement she pulled it out and flung it with a smooth overarm motion.
She knew as it left her fingers that it would fly true. Morgan had only just registered what she’d done when her knife entered his eye and drove all the way to the hilt. His one good eye blinked at her, uncomprehending, and he slumped to the ground, the knife falling from his lax fingers. Shocked, Ben raised his hand and touched his neck; his fingers came away bloody from a shallow, long cut.
Telaine couldn’t stop looking at Morgan, certain he was playing one final game with her and at any moment he would stand and stab Ben through the heart. She felt numb, so numb that when the Baron grabbed her by the collar and dragged her to her feet, she couldn’t resist.
“A murderer as well as a thief,” he shouted. “So do I charge you, Lainie Bricker. You will be taken to the fort and held pending trial.”
He shoved her into the waiting arms of Captain Jackson, who as usual acted as if he didn’t care if she lived or died. Telaine came to her senses and tried to break away, but he restrained her as easily as if she’d been a recalcitrant kitten.
Ben shouted and lunged in their direction, but was grabbed by Liam just before the Baron’s shot would have gone through his head. “Anyone who attempts to help the prisoner will be tried as an accomplice,” the Baron said. He mounted his horse and stared coldly at the assembled crowd, which had grown quite large. “Captain?”
Telaine gave up struggling against Jackson’s grip. She absolutely could not let him confine her. “Everybody listen!” she shouted. “The Baron is the one who took—”
The Baron, who had begun to ride away, turned back and leveled his gun at her. “Bind her,” he said in his most vicious voice, cutting across her words, “and gag her. I believe we will have an execution right here. Right now.”
Telaine opened her mouth to shout again and Jackson’s thick arm went across her mouth. Ben screamed. “Be silent,” the Baron said, “or I will silence you myself.” Someone grabbed her hands and bound them roughly behind her back, and a none-too-clean handkerchief replaced the captain’s grimy, scratchy wool sleeve. She fought back, and the captain kicked her feet out from under her and dragged her to the base of the gazebo, wrenching her bound arms painfully above her shoulders.
This is not how I pictured this ending, she thought with unnatural calm.
The Baron again dismounted and walked toward her. She knelt up and glared at him. He would not see her fear.
He pointed the pistol at her, one of the ones from his collection, I repaired that one, isn’t that funny? and said in a quiet voice, “I did enjoy your company. A pity I’m forced to kill you.” She continued to glare, but wondered, Should I close my eyes? What’s the etiquette for being murdered by a torturer and a traitor? She kept her eyes open even as she heard the shot. But—that wasn’t the Baron’s gun, it was too far away…
The Baron looked away, the barrel of his gun pointing up. Telaine threw herself at his legs and knocked him sprawling, heard him curse. Someone landed on him; someone else kicked the gun away; a third person yanked the gag out of her mouth and untied her hands.
Ben pulled her to her feet and enveloped her in his arms, squeezing tightly, putting his body between her and anyone else. She looked up and saw wet trails streaking his face. She laid her head against his chest, feeling his heart pounding as fast as hers was, trying to control her breathing. I guess I don’t have to come to terms with my life after all.
A confused murmur filled the air, growing louder as the seconds passed. “Let go of me!” the Baron shouted, struggling in Liam’s massive arms. Captain Jackson fought Jack for possession of the Baron’s gun. And the soldiers, directionless and without orders, brought their gun Devices to bear on the citizens of Longbourne.
Before the soldiers could fire their weapons, another gunshot tore across the clamor. “What is going on here?” a woman’s voice exclaimed. Telaine turned around; Ben kept a loose, protective grip on her shoulders. A double file of mounted soldiers, properly dressed and outfitted and looking altogether professional, rode into the town center. Their leader, a fine-boned woman with graying chestnut hair and a major’s insignia on her sleeve, held a recently fired pistol Device in the air.
She cast her eye over the gathering and focused on the Baron, who was far better dressed than anyone else. “Who are you?�
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The Baron shoved Liam, who had him pinned to the ground, away and got to his feet, brushing snow off himself. “I am Hugh Harstow, Baron of Steepridge, and I am grateful for your arrival, major,” he said smoothly. “The people of this town attempted to rebel against my sovereignty, and you can see my men and I are outnumbered. These—” he pointed at Ben, and Telaine, and Jack and Liam—“are the ringleaders. I demand you take them in charge preparatory to trial.”
“He was going to kill an innocent person!” Liam declared.
“Hardly innocent. A murderer.” The Baron indicated Morgan’s dead, abandoned body, its eye still sporting its grotesque ornament.
“The Baron—” Ben began, but the major silenced him with a wave.
“I can see this will take some time to sort out. I’ll have to ask all of those concerned to come with me to the fort.”
Panic rose in Telaine’s chest. This would take too long. If Morgan had come over the pass with the earth mover, the Ruskalder army could not be far behind. But there was nothing she could do, unless she could get the major alone—but would the major even listen to her?
“Telaine? Telaine!”
At first she didn’t recognize her own name. Then, to her dismay, she saw a soldier near the head of the column leap from his horse and run toward her. He was tall, with short black hair and a face she’d known all her life. “Jeffy,” she said under her breath. What was her cousin Jeffy doing here?
“Your Highness! Lieutenant North! Return to your position!”
Jeffy ignored the major and barreled down on Telaine. He shoved Ben and sent him sprawling. “Get your hands off my cousin,” he growled. “Telaine, what are you doing here? And dressed like a commoner?”
“Cousin? Telaine?” Ben said, staring up at Telaine in confusion.
“What are you saying, Lieutenant?” The major turned her horse and walked back toward them.
“Major, I insist you take these four in charge at once!” the Baron said.
“I thought you were recovering from lung fever,” Jeffy said. “Julia’s been sick with worry, Telaine, how could you do this to her?”
“Lainie, what’s he talking about?” Ben said.
Telaine looked at Ben, then at Jeffy. The major said, “Milord Baron, who killed this man?” and as the Baron opened his mouth to reply, Telaine saw a vision of the future as clearly as if she were there. She saw this argument and confusion growing to encompass all of Longbourne until the Ruskalder came down that road and slaughtered everyone. And there was only one way she could stop that future from happening.
She looked at Ben again, still sprawled on the ground. “I’m sorry,” she said.
She stepped away from Ben and Jeffy into a relatively clear space. “Major!” she shouted, cutting over whatever the Baron was saying and causing the major to turn. Her hands were shaking. She took a deep breath. “Major, my name is Telaine North Hunter,” she said, so there would be no mistake. “And I am an agent of the Crown.”
Everyone went silent. Even the horses stopped moving, as if they knew the magnitude of what she’d done.
“Hugh Harstow, I charge you with high treason against the Crown,” she went on. “I charge you with conspiring with the King of the Ruskalder to allow them passage through your Barony into Tremontane. I charge you with the murder of Edmund Clarke and of gross negligence in failing to maintain the kingdom’s defenses. I charge you with the torture of seven children of your Barony and with being an accomplice in their kidnapping and murder, and with the kidnapping of another girl. And I charge you with the attempted murder of a member of the royal family and an agent of the Crown.” The litany had made her hands stop shaking. The Baron’s white-lipped fear gave her great satisfaction.
“You are not—” the Baron said. His voice shook. “You cannot possibly be—”
“Can I not?” This man, this disgusting, prating, hollow shell of a man was responsible for a legion of nightmares. “Harstow, I have spent nine years of my life pretending to be someone I’m not. I am very good at my job. You saw what I wanted you to see. You were easy to control, Harstow, and now all I want is to be allowed to witness your execution.”
The major said, “You must be the one I was sent to retrieve.”
Telaine, caught off guard by her conversational tone, stared at her. It occurred to her to wonder how this troop was even here, with the pass still closed. “Retrieve?”
“My primary mission was to review the fort’s defenses. My secondary mission was to find a lost agent and give her all assistance. It was given to me by the King himself.” For a moment, pride glinted in her eye. “He also gave me an earth mover to expedite my mission. Is it your Highness, or Agent Hunter?”
Telaine closed her eyes. “Right now, it’s Agent Hunter.”
“Agent Hunter, what were you saying about an invasion?”
“The Baron was in collusion with the Ruskald King to allow an invasion force through. He sent an earth mover down Thorsten Pass to clear it for the invading army.”
The Baron laughed. “Earth mover? Miss Bricker, or whoever you are, you have an overactive imagination. Has anyone seen any evidence of this supposed Device? You have no proof of your allegations. Major, I insist you release me.”
“Morgan—” Telaine pointed at the body—“was gone all winter. Major, nobody came up from Ellismere before you cleared the pass, and he didn’t come with you. The only place he could have been was Ruskald, and the only way he could have returned is with the Baron’s earth mover. And the soldiers all saw me building it. Some even helped. Please, major. My word as an agent counts as evidence in court. This has to qualify.”
The major chewed her bottom lip. “I believe you,” she said. “How long until the Ruskalder army arrives?” she said to the Baron. He glared at her with disdain.
“The army would have to move more slowly than one person,” Telaine said, “but…” She did some calculations and came up with an answer that left her sick and faint. “As early as sunset,” she said. She exchanged glances with the major. “What’s your name?” she asked.
“Major Anselm. Constance Anselm. Agent Hunter, what is the status of the troops?”
Telaine cast her eye over the assembled soldiers. “What you see here is a third of the troops currently stationed at the fort.”
Anselm blanched. “They only have sixty soldiers? For a fort meant to be manned by three hundred?” Her expressive eyes added silently something about the quality of the soldiers in front of her.
“I wasn’t kidding about the gross negligence.” They stared at each other. “Major Anselm, how many soldiers do you have?”
“I brought a troop of fifty. Supposedly enough to handle any problem you might have gotten into.”
“It’s not enough,” Telaine said. She turned, madly hoping to see more soldiers emerge from the snow, and met Ben’s eyes. He’d stood and taken a few steps away from her, toward the crowd of townspeople watching in perfect silence. His expressionless, white face frightened her. It was a look she’d hoped never to see on him again. “Ben,” she began.
“You showed us what you wanted us to see,” he said.
“No,” Telaine said, hearing her own rash words flung back at her. “No, that wasn’t—”
“Just heard you say it. You needed to make the Baron believe you were an ordinary person, didn’t you?”
“Yes, but—”
“You lied about who you were. You lied about why you were here.”
“I never lied about—”
His voice grew hoarse. “Must’ve been your lucky day, finding a fool who believed you so completely that he’d love your false self. No better way to fit in than that.”
She groped for something to say that would convince him, but all she came up with was, “That’s not how it went.”
“That sounds like another lie,” he said. “We deserve everything you ever did to us for being such fools.” He turned and, head bowed, walked away in the direction of the for
ge. She watched him go, his fists clenched. She felt colder even than the winter air would warrant. Everywhere she looked she saw nothing but angry, dumbfounded, betrayed faces.
Desperate, she sought out friends: Maida, Jack, Eleanor, Liam. None of them would meet her eyes. “Eleanor,” she pleaded, and Eleanor turned away, her hands twisted in the fabric of her skirt. The cold threatened to crack her heart in two. She turned away, her eyes burning.
The Baron laughed, a dry, nasty sound, and it turned her pain into fury. She took several swift steps and punched the Baron with more strength than she knew she had in her. His eyes rolled up in his head, and he sagged to the ground. The blow sent welcome pain up her arm, a reminder that she was still alive despite all the evidence to the contrary.
She turned back to the major, who was watching her with unexpected compassion and said nothing about her attack. “The fort is fully stocked,” Telaine said, her eyes dry. She’d pay for those dry eyes later. “Weapons, rations, everything. Milord Baron meant it all to go for arming the invaders. The new weapons, too, and armor.”
“But we need soldiers,” Anselm said. “It will take too long to bring in reinforcements. The fort will be overrun with only one hundred and ten men and women.”
“Don’t recall signing up to fight an invading army,” Jackson said.
“Excuse me, soldier, but that is precisely what you signed up for,” Anselm said coldly.
Telaine made an intuitive leap. “The Baron meant you to die,” she said, and Jackson turned to look at her. “He decimated the fort’s troops so the Ruskalder could overrun you easily. I don’t know what he told you, if he claimed you’d be allowed to join the invaders or something, but you should consider what you know of Harstow, and ask yourself if he’s the kind of man who would share power with a scruffy no-name soldier who only has rank because Harstow needed a stooge.”
Jackson flinched, and Telaine knew she’d struck home. She added, “You might also remember you could easily be charged with treason along with your master. And, gentlemen—” she included as many of the Baron’s soldiers in her gaze as she could—“if you leave this mountain, I will track you down and I will see you hanged.”
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