Retribution

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

Three high-ranking officers in full dress uniforms, accompanied by a squad of palace guards riding magnificent white horses, waited within sight of the city gate. They carried a message from King Edward that ordered the army to disperse and return to their assigned duties. They were to arrest the general and deliver him to the King’s court where he would face charges sedition as a traitor. Princess Hannah was to also be arrested and taken to King Edward.

The officer with the scroll rerolled it after reading it aloud to the troops and placed it under his armpit with military precision as if it was a weapon. The soldiers in the ranks were confused. The King’s officer shouted for them to return to their duties, to fight and win the war. Some fidgeted, but none broke ranks.

Hannah spurred her horse ahead, riding down the center of the road, her horse forcing the men to move aside as she passed. She kept her eyes on the officer, never flinching. She heard the general’s and Brice’s horses following her, but neither spoke.

When she reached the front of the army, she continued until her horse’s nose nearly touched the nose of the officer’s horse. “I am Princess Hannah.”

“I have an order for your arrest. Come with me without issue, and it may go easier on you.”

She raised her voice so those behind would hear, as Brice pulled up to one side and the general on the other, “I am the rightful heir to the throne of Wren, as well as royalty of Peermont. Do you dispute that, sir?”

He paused, and in that instant, lost. Hannah continued without hesitation, “That means you have no authority to arrest me. Attempt it, and the great army of Wren will join forces with that of Ansel. When they are finished destroying Calverton in the next thirty days, no two bricks will sit one above the other.”

He appeared deflated but tried again. “I have my orders.”

Hannah turned her horse enough so she could face the army behind her. “Do you want your kingdom destroyed?”

A hundred voices shouted, “No.”

She called, “I heard only one in ten of you!”

The rumblings grew. Soldiers raised their weapons and shook them. Others stamped their feet in unison. She raised a fist. They quieted.

“Archers, draw your bows.” She turned to face the King’s officer again without watching, but she heard the grunts as men strung their bows. The expressions on the officers and guard’s faces froze. She shouted, “Archers, aim for the eyes of any who attempt to touch the Princess of Wren.”

Hannah gave the mare a gentle touch with her heels and rode past the officers and palace guards. None made a hint of a move in her direction. Once past, she half stood in her stirrups and shouted to the army, “Follow me.”

General Case waved an arm for them to advance, and every man fell into formation and marched. A cadence caller struck up a marching tune. The men picked up the song, shouting the chorus. A drum took up the beat. The army moved as one to the city ahead.

The officers and palace guards spurred their white horses aside out of the way of the advancing army and raced for the city gates on side trails and paths until they were well past Hannah, who now rode at the front of an army a thousand strong. They returned to the road at a full gallop, leaning low over the necks of their mounts and spurring them to run faster.

Brice said, “Now, you’ve gone and done it.”

“I didn’t mean to.”

He laughed.

Hannah raised her eyes to study the city wall. Most of the city was outside the walls, a sprawl of squat buildings on narrow, winding cobblestone streets. Compared to Gallium, the city seemed small, poor, and in disrepair. The farmers were not the only people suffering at the hands of the King during the war. Yet, when she lifted her eyes higher, gaily colored banners and streamers flew from the palace palisades, above the original protective walls of the city.

Behind the cost of the banners, flags, expensive officer’s uniforms, and white horses was the King. Her relative. Her blood.

Hundreds of years ago, when the original walls were constructed, they may have held off an army of the time. But as she rode closer, there were sections that had fallen down, and the remainder was in poor repair. A small river flowed from the nearby hills and probably the mountains beyond, into the walled portion of the city. An enemy with a bucket or two of poison could kill everyone inside the walled city.

Hannah turned her attention to the people of Calverton as they emerged from the buildings to observe the event of the army invading its own city. Three items struck her simultaneously. First, they were all thin. She saw no fat bakers or cooks, not even a paunch on an innkeeper. Second, their eyes were dull. Their expressions held no hope. Lastly, she noticed that as she rode past, that they joined the procession as if they were part of the army—and perhaps they were. A fierce growl filled the background as they expressed their anger after talking to soldiers.

She said to the general, “The old walled city is small. Where are the warehouses?”

“We never expected the palace to have to withstand a siege, so they are scattered throughout the city.”

“What food is stored inside the walls? Animals?”

He shook his head, “None. As I said, everything is outside. Over time, each King or Queen expanded the living areas and built new apartments for royalty and servants. Where the stables once stood, there is a ballroom. There is no room for more inside.”

She rode on. “Have you noticed our army has doubled in size?”

The general turned. His face paled.

They turned onto the wide cobblestone boulevard that approached the main city gates. They stood open. A dozen palace guards raced into sight and began closing the one on the left, but it wouldn’t move. Obviously, most of them didn’t know how to work the mechanism, but more were running to help.

The general stood in his saddle. “Archers, let a volley fly at will.”

An officer repeated the order and the hiss of arrows flying overhead sounded, dozens and more. The palace guards scattered, all but two who had taken arrows, one to his head, and another to his chest. The general said, “Easier to stop them now before the gates are closed, don’t you think?”

“I do,” Hannah said.

Palace guards appeared on the ramparts, most holding a single ceremonial spear, but a few with bows they struggled to string. The general muttered, “Pathetic.”

Hannah said, “General, I have a favor to ask.”

“Name it.”

“I want you to defer to Brice. He is my knight, my protector. For the upcoming confrontation, I’d like you to treat him as your superior. He protects the heir to a kingdom, and the rank may impress your King or those guards.”

The general turned to an aide and spoke a few words. The aide ran back into the ranks and reappeared carrying a golden handled sword. The general handed it to Brice. “Wear this. The gold and jewels will impress and give you stature, but please try to return it. The sword is a family heirloom.”

“Sir, I cannot,” Brice said.

“Nonsense. It was made for special occasions, and I think this may be one.”

Brice strapped it on and sat taller.

When they were in range of arrows, Hannah pulled up and faced the fifty confused archers standing on the wall. Half of them still struggled to string their bows. Others had arrows ready but looked awkward and not used to the weapons.

Hannah held her arms wide, fingers pointing to either side to draw an imaginary line. She called, “Archers to the front. Line up beside me.”

A scuffle of feet told her she needn’t bother looking as two hundred men suddenly stood, strung out in a loose line at her sides. When they were still, she called for them to ready an arrow. Her eyes never left the palace guards. One had already broken ranks and ran.

She called out to those guards who remained, “On my order, the archers will advance until they are in range. These men train with bows every day and have faced the enemy in war, and after the first volley, half of you will be dead, but we will still advance. After the second wave, all of you will be dead. You have one chance to lay down your weapons, get out of my sight, and live.”

A few of them fled. The rest looked from one to the other, and about a dozen acted ready to stay and fight for their King. She called to the army, “Advance and fire at will.”

With their first steps, the rest of the palace guards disappeared without a single arrow flying. She didn’t blame them. They were trained to protect royalty at close quarters, prevent assassins from reaching the King, and to maintain order in a palace. They were also for show, their fancy uniforms created to impress royalty.

But they were not trained soldiers. Fifty palace guards against two hundred expert archers and another thousand men behind them, plus a thousand angry townsmen, was nothing short of slaughter. Hannah was glad they chose not to fight but felt a wave of shame for them at the same time. They were so poorly trained they couldn’t even lock the front door to the King’s Palace.

Behind her, a roar of approval erupted. Hannah ignored it as she watched the windows of the towers inside the walls, the windows where a King might be watching. But she saw no sign of him. Only the few palace guards had shown themselves.

Brice said, “What now?”

“I guess we invite ourselves inside,” Hannah said.

“No,” Brice said. “It would only take one archer, or one well-thrown spear to kill you. I cannot allow you to go in there until it is safe.”

“You don’t tell me what to do.”

The general moved his horse between them. “Princess, if I may. Your knight, Sir Brice, is correct. Allow us to enter the palace and secure an audience with the King. I will act as your emissary if you allow me.”

Hannah hesitated. She trusted the two men at her side, but her emotions drove her to enter and face whatever lay in there. Good sense told her to remain outside. Reluctantly, she nodded.

The general motioned for his aide again. “Take the Princess to that inn over there,” he pointed. “Set a guard around it, fifty men or more.”

“Yes, sir.”

Hannah turned her horse and directed it to the building the general indicated. It was an inn, the battered red sign with a crude image of a wolf barely visible. The planters under the windows were empty of greenery or color. The bare boards of the walls shown through the old whitewash that now appeared almost brown with age. Weeds flourished where she flowers had once bloomed.

People lined the street, standing several deep. Again, she noticed most were skinny and listless, a sure sign of near starvation. Her anger grew cold. The detail from the army cleared a path for her, the sluggish movements of the crowd forcing her to ride slowly.

“Are you really a Princess?” a girl of ten asked.

Hannah pulled up her mount and leaned over the neck of the animal to answer, “Yes. I’m Princess Hannah from the kingdom of Wren. And you are?”

“Anna.”

“Well Anna, that sounds a lot like Hannah. Both are spelled the same frontward and backward. It’s nice to meet you.”

“Is there lots of food to eat where you come from?”

The question hung in the air. Eyes and ears of hundreds waited for her response. “Yes.”

“Can we have some?”

An innocent, childish question, but within it was the core of what everyone watching her wanted to know. Hannah sat up taller and stood in the stirrups. She addressed all of them. “She asks if Wren will share food with you. I promise to speak with King Edward about that as soon as he agrees to meet with me. Wren has food to spare, and you’re welcome to it.”

A few smiled or clapped, but it died out quickly. The little girl said, “Will you end the war?”

“I will try. I’m sure King Edward and I can work together to make things better.” She clucked the horse to move ahead, but her thoughts were on Anna. All the girl wanted were two items, the same as everyone else in the crowd.

Hannah dismounted and went to the door of the inn. It was stuck. She stood back and examined it. Stuck, not locked. Hannah drove her shoulder into the door, and it burst open with a squeal of protest. She strode inside.

The common room was empty and cold. Dust had settled on everything. It smelled of moldy food, disuse, and a fire long extinguished, the coals damp. A broken clay mug or two lay scattered on the gray stone floor. A mouse darted for safety.

The general’s aide entered and curled his nose. “I’ll get this place cleaned up right away.”

“Don’t bother. I’m going outside.”

“Princess, I must protect you, and I cannot if you go out there. Please.”

She pulled her purse and spilled coins into her palm. There were five small copper coins, half-coppers they were called, no matter which kingdom minted them. A half-copper was considered fair wages for a day’s work.

Hannah barked at the aide, “Stay here.”

She walked into the bright sunshine and found a bench to stand on. The crowd quietly watched her. She pointed, “Anna come here.”

The little girl ran to face her and curtsied. Hannah held up a half-copper. “That room needs cleaning. Will you help?”

Anna snatched the coin and ran inside. Laughing, Hannah pointed to an older woman, lines of age around her eyes telling of life in the sun. She held up the next coin. “Will you help Anna?”

The crowd started showing interest. A man near the front shouted, “I’ll help, copper or no copper.” He pushed his way forward, and Hannah tossed him a coin as he passed by her.

She selected two more, an elderly man missing one arm, and a woman holding an infant. Then she called out, “I think that’s enough to clean one room.”

A chuckle came from the crowd that had grown to a three hundred. Someone shouted, “I can groom your horse.”

Others chimed in with offers she rejected. The townspeople were agreeable to work. She carried several gold coins in her purse, more than what would be required to pay all of them a half-copper if she had a money-changer to accept the gold coin and turn it into hundreds of coppers.

Someone shouted, “Are you really going to end the war?”

“I am not your King, nor your Queen. However, I have come to make an offer that will end it right away if he is willing to accept.”

A different voice called, “What if he doesn’t?”

That was the question Hannah dreaded. If he offered to help or accepted her plan, it would serve both of them, a mutual benefit, so she didn’t see why he wouldn’t accept her offer. They could rule their kingdoms in the future secure in the knowledge that each would help the other in times of trouble.

All she had to do was convince him. He was her blood, part of her family, although she didn’t know exactly where she sat on the family tree. It didn’t matter, because she was the heir to the Wren throne, and that made her equal to King Edward. Superior, if she considered the state of the war between Peermont and Ansel. At least the people of Wren had enough food to eat.

She lifted her chin to address the question. “My job today is to make him agree.”

A woman near her shouted, “How are you going to get him sober?”

Another laughed and called, “Then you have to put clothes back on his women.”

“And silence his advisors,” a man called, to the laughter of all.

Hannah listened and shuddered. They were telling her what she needed to know. King Edward was a drunken, woman chasing, young man, in the midst of other privileged youths. His parents had died when he was ten. By age twelve he ruled. By twenty, his kingdom was falling into ruin. Then the war with Ansel began—no matter which side started it, or why.

She put the pieces together and realized the mission she set for herself wouldn’t be the obvious mutual benefit that King Edward would thank her for. If anything, he already resented it, and probably feared her. She had marched into his capital city and palace with an army at her back. His army.

She held up her hands to silence the growl of discontent rising. “I came here in peace. My cousin in Wren wishes me dead so she can wear the crown. I will not make promises I cannot keep, met I will tell you this. If I am Queen, I will join forces with Peermont to drive out Ansel—or perhaps I will join with Ansel to drive out King Edward. Either way, this kingdom will see better times ahead.”

A cheer went up. People began talking to each other in excited tones. Hannah hadn’t intended to mention defeating the King, it had simply slipped out, but in that instant, the will of the people made itself known. They didn’t like their King.

Another of the general’s aides ran to her and bowed before speaking, “Princess, your presence is requested at the city gates.”

She hoped the King was there to greet her and they could end the war with the public signing of a treaty, perhaps today. She strode confidently, walking as she thought a princess should walk, her head held high, a slight smile on her lips. The crowd cheered and followed.

Brice and the general stood to one side of the gates, at the forefront of the army. She saw nothing to indicate the King was welcoming her, and she didn’t like the expressions they wore.

She snapped, “You wanted me?”

Brice said, “Hannah, I want you to compose yourself and not lose your temper.”

“Do you think I will throw a tantrum because a weak King will not provide me an audience, even if it saves his ass?”

“No. The King has not responded, except to send his envoy to speak for him.”

Hannah balled her fists and placed them on her hips. “Then, let’s get to it.”

“Compose yourself, I told you.” Brice’s face had taken on a pale pallor, and he acted scared. His voice shuddered as he said, “Up there on the rampart above the gates is the King’s envoy.”

She turned. A man stood up there all alone, hands hanging limply at his sides, a wide smile on his face, his cruel eyes amused. It was the Captain’s son from her first voyage, the one removed from his own ship by his father. The one who had hired people to spy on her in Gallium. Her mortal enemy. Jam.