by Cara Coe
She sighed and squirmed as beads of sweat slicked down her skin, mixing with the dried crust of vomit on her chest from last night. She knew in this heat, underneath the shield of the cloak, she reeked. She could hear a river through the thick of trees from their location. She longed to take a break and dip into it. The heat combined with the receding poison Lord Lennox had administered and the fact that the last thing she had to eat was little more than a raspberry tart from last night’s festivities was making her head pound and her stomach churn. Wrestling between exhaustion and keeping up her stony indifference to her plight, she finally gave into her body’s screams.
“Can we stop for a few minutes?” she asked quietly.
The prince took so long to answer, she didn’t know if he heard her. She was about to repeat herself when he cut her off with a “No.”
Amelie drew in an irritated breath. She would not beg. They rode silently for a while after that. While the prince seemed content to spend the whole journey this way, Amelie was fading fast. She felt the weight of the ordeal settle on her bones and the lack of food and sleep pulling her under. She struggled to keep her eyes open and feared falling off the horse. Trying to shake off her fatigue, she began peppering Prince Seth with questions.
“What do you do with prisoners found guilty of spying?” she asked.
“We execute them.” His voice held no emotion and his eyes remained trained on the guards ahead. He had his men ride several paces in front of them to lessen her effects on their faculties.
“Well we’ve got the rope right here,” Amelie said bitterly, holding up her restraints. “And plenty of trees. Why not get it over with?”
“We are not monsters. We will hear your case. Your people will speak for you. Then a decision will be made.”
“What if I told you I wasn’t titled? Wasn’t anyone important? That I spend my days in a convent with nuns gardening, cleaning, and leading a humble life?”
“Then I would ask you what a nun was doing in a foreign kingdom, at a ball, incapacitating a man twice her size and knowing how to kill him with such an ordinary object.”
“Then I guess I won’t tell you any of that. Since I don’t like your return question.”
Prince Seth looked at her now. His eyes held a note of curiosity. “Tell me something. Tell me about the note I found on you. Tell me what you were doing at the Lennox manor. Give me a shred of information to start with or you leave me with no choice but to keep marching to you the palace prison.”
“I do enjoy a good marching tune. Do the Draedians know Hail to the West Sun?”
Prince Seth heaved a sigh and fell quiet. Amelie turned her attention back to the sound of the river and wished for another time when she and Millie would have been free to splash in it at will.
Amelie didn’t remember sliding off the horse. Her eyes snapped open when she felt a popping pain in her left shoulder as it twisted unnaturally in her fall, still tethered to the horse. Prince Seth swooped down from his steed and had his arm around her in an instant, bringing her to her feet. He called to the guards to halt.
Amelie looked at him through watery eyes. Sweat prickled all over her body. She could not endure the exhaustion any longer and she fell limp in his arms. She felt herself being pulled off the path into the shade. The break from the sun was like sweetness on her skin. Water was brought to her lips and she drank eagerly.
“When’s the last time you ate?”
The voice belonged to a guard similar in height to the prince and looked put together with lanky bones and lean muscle. His hair was long over his ears and his brown eyes showed genuine concern.
“An actual meal?” Amelie asked struggling to sit up against the tree she was leaned upon. “Late morning, yesterday.”
“You’re incredibly weak,” he said, opening his satchel and pulling out a heel of bread. He offered it to her. “You seem to be the type who could hold up better than that without food for a day.” His eyes narrowed in suspicion and he waited. Amelie debated whether to give him more and decided the information would not damage her situation and in fact could help.
“Lord Lennox drugged me last night with a sleeping potion in wine and tied me to a chair in the library.”
The prince who had been pacing a few feet away froze in his movements and looked at her sharply. Amelie rubbed her arm tiredly.
“It has been a rough few hours,” she said. “I’m trying to hold up. I’m sure we can be on our way once this food has settled.”
The guard who gave her the bread also relinquished his canteen to her. “What was the aftertaste of the poison?”
“Bitter with the slight taste of mint.”
“Sleeping Annie,” he mused, chewing his lip. “It only grows on a south peak in the mountain range to the south in Draeden. He had his hands on a rare poison. I know an herb that will help. It grows in abundance in these woods. It’s not an antidote, it will just help the nausea I know you’re feeling right now.”
“Collect it now, Talon,” Prince Seth ordered. “We’re stopping here to camp.”
Talon nodded and rose.
The rest of the soldiers set up camp, several yards away from Amelie’s tree. Now that she had a moment to rest and eat, Amelie felt the effects of the last twenty-four hours start to wane. She noted that the prince had roughly nine men traveling with him including the lanky one, Talon, who had not yet returned from his search for the herbs. They moved silently, already knowing their places in building fire rings, banging out sleeping mats, arranging their weapons to be off their person but within reach quickly if needed.
One of the guards approached the prince and Amelie with a length of rope. He was the larger one that had held Millie, the quieter one, not the one who had held the dagger. His hair was copper red and haggled. His bush of a beard matched. His eyes flicked to the prince questioningly and the prince responded with a hesitated nod.
Amelie tightened in fear remembering her previous joke about executions until she realized the burly man was simply tying her to the tree.
“Not too tight, Derrick,” Prince Seth said quietly.
Amelie’s shoulder ached from twisting it and she bit back a cry as Derrick pulled her arms behind her around the tree and secured it to the rope. He wrapped and bound her hands in leather once more making sure her fingers couldn’t work at the knots.
“Why don’t you join the others?” she sneered at Prince Seth as Derrick walked away towards the sounds of a hearty camp. The men had relaxed around the now-formed fire pit and were trading drinks.
“You can’t be alone. I won’t underestimate you,” the prince answered. He sat down a few feet from her and pulled his knees up to his chest, resting his chin on his crossed arms. “This discomfort will be short lived. We will reach the palace in nine days if we keep a good pace.”
They watched the men for a while. It seemed silence suited Prince Seth and usually Amelie enjoyed it as well. Especially when Millie got into one of her giggling moods. However, these stretches of silence seemed to make this ordeal longer and Amelie was weary of it. Not being in control left the time passing feel like one of Sister Patrice’s drone lectures.
“What would you do if you were me?” she finally asked.
He didn’t look at her. Amelie realized now Prince Seth liked to take his time to formulate an answer before speaking, so she held her tongue patiently.
“I can’t say,” he finally mused. “I don’t know your motives.”
“My motives are to protect my kingdom.”
“Then I would do exactly as you are doing if your silence accomplishes that.” His eyes slid over to her. “Though I don’t know why sneaking into Draeden benefits your kingdom. We keep to ourselves. We have done nothing to change that.”
“Not as a whole, but some of your inhabitants.”
“Who? Lord Lennox?”
Amelie kept silent.
The prince shrugged and started dragging a stick through the dirt, crisscrossing lines. “Like I
said, I can’t help you if you don’t talk." The lines held no pattern. He seemed content on agitating the hardened dirt and leaving arbitrary, crumbling, dry trenches in the stick's wake. After a couple of minutes, he glanced back up at her and asked a question. “What would you do if you were me?”
Amelie couldn’t help a small smile from playing on her lips. “Exactly what you’re doing.”
Chapter 10
Seth
Seth splashed water over his head and let it drip over his tired features. The river churned sluggishly, large deposits of mud clogging this narrow section. Talon and Derrick perched on either side of him doing the same. The sounds of the forest- the gurgle birds and the leaves dancing in the wind usually calmed his troubled thoughts but today relief would not come. Attending Lord Lennox’s ball only raised more questions than answers. His fear that the nobles of Draeden were turning treacherous were being realized as he found more links to Rankor. Why this mage suddenly appeared and with so much influence, Seth could not discern. What he was certain of was that it was time to convene the king’s cabinet. Rankor was no longer just a curious nuisance.
What to do about the missing mages was a trickier problem. Seth did not wish to see the families imprisoned for witchery, especially after their loved ones have gone missing. But the occurrences were escalating. Something had to be done. The troubles weighed down on Seth’s heart and his sigh was labored. And now a possible spy from Candor has been added to his load. An oddity. Skilled at fighting. Not conforming to any social class roles. Beautiful in her dark skin and thoughtful eyes but dangerous with her deep power that touched the desires of men. She was proud, determined, quietly curious and had the will of steel. But an opportune glance when she didn’t realize anyone was watching also showed her to be sad like she carried a weight as heavy as he.
Amelie sat several paces away tied to a tree. Seth threw a look over his shoulder at her. She was staring at the trio, her lips twisted into a scowl. She was out of earshot but her keen awareness still made him uneasy. Derrick looked between Amelie and the prince.
“Are we going to take a slow pace to the palace and see what information we can get from her before Prince Kernan has her in his control or are we going to make haste so we can drop her off and continue with our mission?” Derrick asked in his gruff voice. He used the bottom of his tunic to wipe away the water on his face.
Seth rocked back on his heels. “I haven’t figured her out. I can’t just release her and yet…”
Talon nodded. “Yes. And yet. I get the same feeling. Like Lord Lennox holds all the blame and her being tied up and dragged before his Highness for trial and punishment feels wrong.”
Seth stood up defensively. “What am I supposed to do? She won’t answer any questions. What is she even doing here? Mages are disappearing faster as time goes on. There’s been traffic in our kingdom from other lands. We’ve finally caught one of them and what? I’m supposed to let her go? Based on my gut?”
Talon shrugged. “And yet.”
Seth sighed. He glanced at the two men warily. “How are the soldiers responding to her influence?”
“We are resisting,” Derrick said. “The pull was strongest when we first encountered her, but it’s been more of a dull ache sense. The men you put together for these missions, they will be fine. I’ve no doubt.”
“We’ll go slower than normal,” Seth said with a nod. “That note made it clear that Rankor wants her. And they set up a pretty elaborate ruse to acquire her. Whether she was working with him and was betrayed or whether she’s innocent in all this, I’d like to find out before we get there.”
Chapter 11
Amelie
Her brushing became vigorous trying to take the memory of Henry smelling her hair off her locks. Phillip stood behind her, gazing at her in the mirror.
“I couldn’t even assign guards to your door,” he said, laying a hand on her shoulder. “What are you doing to everyone?”
His eyes didn’t seem right. They seemed hungry. They looked like Henry. Amelie shot up from the stool and faced her brother. His face was contorted in pain.
“I moan for you in the night. What are you doing to me?”
“Phillip.” Her plea was a whisper.
He grabbed her upper arm and dragged her to the bed, pushing her face down. He climbed on top of her, pinning his body on hers and kissed her ear. “Why do I feel this?” His voice was ragged and not his own. Shifting his weight so that his legs pinned hers, he leaned up and rustled her skirts up above her bottom.
The tears flowed freely. “Phillip. No.” She could barely put power behind her voice. He unbuckled his belt and pulled out his shirt. His hands found the skin of her waist and he squeezed tightly. “Why?” he demanded angrily. “Why do I need this?”
Amelie let out a defeated wail. Her sobs became hiccups in her throat. “I’m scared.”
The pressure was released immediately. Amelie scrambled up and retreated in her bed, backing away from him cautiously. He paced back and forth in front of her, frantically yanking at his hair.
Prince Seth was staring at her when she awoke from her dream with a start. She was still bound to the large oak. Her shoulder ached. Her dream left a layer of sheen on her forehead and she realized with horror that she was crying. She squeezed her eyes shut to expel any lingering tears and cursed the angels that her hands were not free to wipe away the leaking vulnerability.
Prince Seth silently dipped a rag in a bucket of water near his head and picked his way over the brush to where she was tethered, trying not to make too much sound to wake the other soldiers. He mopped Amelie’s head silently.
He looked at her, his lips pressed together thoughtfully. Then he stood, turned, and settled back into his own blanket without another glance in her direction.
* * *
They rode for several days, falling into an easy pattern. Wake up with the sun, load the horses, pick their way through the densest portions of forest where the population was scarce and unlikely to notice the royal party and their prisoner until late afternoon when the men would set up camp, stretch their limbs, and play cards or sing or insult each other with brotherly humor. They could’ve taken a short break at high noon to give them the energy and fuel to push on past sunset as Amelie and Millie did, but it seemed these lengthy evenings were essential to the soldiers in dealing with life spent on the road. They spent their afternoon preparing for the next day’s travel and interacting like family. Amelie thought that if she had the chance to resume her missions, she and Millie could adopt this way of travel. Despite her best efforts, she felt herself warming to this group of men as she sat on the edge of their camp each night and watched them.
Amelie was used to travel and she could tell the men were impressed with their progress without any hindrance on her part. They followed a river bank south into the kingdom, keeping a steady pace so not to tire the horses. On the fourth day, they reached a stretch of river where the current mellowed and Amelie was permitted to wash herself in the icy water with Talon as accompaniment. He had unwittingly become her keeper as they traveled since securing the herbs which had gratefully chased away the lingering nausea. He had showed them to her so she'd know what to look for in case the need ever arose, then began grinding them as finely as he could without a pestle. Prince Seth had sent him into a town earlier in the afternoon when they passed one that was not too far off the path they were on to get Amelie out of her tattered gown and into some proper riding gear. Talon didn’t seem to mind the errands. He was constantly leaving the group and returning with game he took down and he could prepare the meals as deliciously as Sister Minerva back at the convent thanks to his knowledge of herbs in these parts. .He gradually took over watch duty as Prince Seth trusted him to keep an eye on Amelie this close without succumbing to her influence.
“Does it not affect you?” she had asked him once when as they sat on dried leaves. Rain had not fallen for some time and the sun was sucking the moisture out of the
plants around them. Talon knitted his eyebrows together at the question.
“It affects me,” he had admitted. “I feel it. But the prince said he would chop the stick off any one of us who tried to touch you. Not that we need that kind of threat. We always obey orders. But it wouldn’t have mattered whether he ordered me to or not.”
She looked at him now as he walked her to the edge of the river and looked away while she stripped off the prince’s stifling cloak and her ruined dress. Her ropes had been replaced by a single chain that locked the two of them together, ankle to ankle. Amelie kept her undergarments on as she dipped into the cool water and rubbed her hands over her skin. Dirt and grime broke off and swirled away from her body. When she emerged, Talon was watching her curiously.
“I feel your magic when you sleep,” he said, cocking his head. His voice was direct.
Amelie looked at him briefly and scowled. “Nothing I can do about it.”
She dipped into the water again and stayed, letting it lap onto her chin. She wasn’t ready to go back to the camp yet. Watch them drink and eat and laugh while she missed the convent. Talon dipped with her, sliding back a little and tugging the chain tied between them.
“That’s what I’m talking about,” he said. “Even while you sleep it’s there. You’re not controlling it.”
“I can try and suppress it, but it never entirely goes away. And the effort leaves me with a headache.”
“Some of the other men think you’re trying to bewitch them.”
Amelie stiffened. She’d been a fool to think these men were somehow superior, resisting her influence. They all felt it. She needed to harden herself, watch her back.
“I’ll kill anyone who touches me,” she hissed vehemently.
“You won’t get the chance.” Talon’s gaze was solemn. “No woman should ever be taken against her will. I won’t allow it. Besides, like I said, we follow orders.” He swished the chain in the water thoughtfully. “And now I know for certain you have no control over this curse for the magic continues when your mind is gone from this world. It must be a sad thing to have something weigh on you so heavily, this infliction.”