Retribution

CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

The man Hannah held at knifepoint remained still, the blade touching his back reaffirming his decision. She realized her back was exposed and walked the man backward until she reached the wall. They were now in deep shadow as she watched across the room and waited.

The ceiling was low, the room large and filled with rows upon rows of tables and chairs, enough for a hundred people to eat, and still room to cook and serve food in a line. She suspected this was not the only dining room, but another one or two probably existed for the slaves that dug the gold. She couldn’t imagine monks doing the actual work when there were prayers to be said.

The man she held placed both hands on her forearm and tensed.

“This knife is long enough to enter your back and exit your chest.”

He relaxed. She saw movement to one side. A man crept in the shadows, coming her way. The man sneaking up to her was either a friend or enemy.

Her training taught her to break combat situation to basics. If the man coming closer was an enemy, she had little choice but to run the one she held through and then protect herself from the other. She could fight a single enemy and expect to win. Fighting two was for fools, so she steeled her mind to kill the man she held.

“Hannah?” Brice whispered.

“Yes.” Her whole being relaxed. Brice and the Peermont army were inside the building.

The man she held must have sensed her relaxing because with a sudden twist of his body and a leap away, he shouted the alarm, “Intruders! To arms!”

Hannah couldn’t stop him, and it wouldn’t stop the shouts he’d already made. Others took up the call to arms. She saw two men running, their blades flashing in the dim light. “How many men did you bring in here?” she asked.

Brice appeared at her side. “Six.”

“Six? Only six?”

“We were reconnoitering, not attacking. Follow me.”

She raced after Brice, but dozens of men poured from the doorways in the hall and ran across the dining hall where they would cut off Brice’s escape. He slowed, looking for another way out. Hannah bumped into him and hissed, “Six?”

“You should have killed him.”

Brice didn’t have to tell her she’d messed up. He was right.

He said, nearly shouting, “Is there another way out?”

“I just got free, so I don’t know.” Men poured into the dining hall, concentrated in one corner as those in charge began splitting them into fighting groups and giving them orders. She and Brice were trapped. Only two hallways connected with the larger room and the enemy nearly filled one with at least thirty soldiers. They would reach the other hallway before Hannah and Brice, and there were only five men there to support them.

Brice leaped in front of her, his arms raised and he roared a curse to draw attention. A ball of flame appeared in each hand, small as grapes to begin with, then growing to the size of apples—then melons. He roared again, and the first of them flew. Before it landed, he threw the other.

His body collapsed as the first flame ball struck the stone floor, spreading fire in a wave as if the fireball had been filled with flammable oil. Men screamed in terror. The other fireball struck a dozen steps further down the hall. A wall of flames prevented any from charging through.

But, the heroic act had drawn nearly all the heat from Brice’s body. He felt cold to the touch as Hannah struggled to get her shoulder under Brice’s stomach to carry him. He should have thrown smaller fireballs. Showoff!

She struggled to her feet carrying Brice and staggered to the other hall, ignoring two arrows that flew uncomfortably close. Two of the Peermont soldiers leaped from the corridor, and one took Brice while the other, an archer, let arrows fly without taking the time to aim. From the screams, she knew at least one struck an enemy. His terrified screams probably delayed the others from pursuit.

Other Peermont soldiers joined them, then remained behind as Hannah and the soldier carrying Brice ran down the long hallway and out into the night. The cold air struck them like a hammer and Hannah knew she had to get Brice warmed soon. He’d used his body’s heat to create the fireballs and couldn’t fend off the intense cold for long.

“Where’s the camp?” she snapped at the first soldier she encountered. He did a double-take when he recognized Brice, and then her.

“Give me a hand over here,” he shouted. Four men ran to his aid. Two carried Brice by his arms, and one held his feet. Another took Hannah’s arm and placed it over his shoulder to support her. They moved quickly down the path and into the trees where a small group of fires burned.

Hannah said, “No sense in keeping the fires small. Brice needs to warm up.”

She still struggled and tried to issue orders as they placed her in warm blankets and her shivering came to a stop. Her eyes closed.

When she woke, the sun was high, men quietly hustled around the camp, and Brice sat up, a pile of blankets heaped on his shoulders. Someone notified the general she was awake and he came at a run.

“Jam?” she asked, the single word foremost on her mind.

“Not a single sighting of him. Maybe we got here before he did.”

Despite her mind still half asleep, she disagreed. That was not like Jam. He’ll walk all night if it meant he might repay Hannah for some of the perceived slights his mind blamed on her. “Update me.”

He chuckled. “A true leader has a single-minded purpose, and that describes you perfectly. We entered the monastery in force after you came out. I kept fifty troops on the path below to capture any who escaped, but the men inside were concentrated in one area, and we took it with only a few minor casualties. I can’t say the same for the other side.”

“Elenore?”

“We’re interrogating the survivors now. Both she and her husband have spent considerable time here over the years, directing the searches to locate you. They also had royal visitors from Wren, and we’re compiling a list for you. A traitor’s list, you might call it.”

Hannah allowed her mind to relax. The list was good news. Anyone who had visited Eagle’s Nest would have to explain their reasons fully if they didn’t wish to be branded a traitor. She couldn’t think of a single reason she’d accept—but she’d give them a chance in an open hearing.

“What do we do next?”

His eyes narrowed, and he grew serious. “This was a trap set for you. There’s no reason to believe it’s the only one.”

She imagined the long march down the pass to Wren and a hundred things that might happen. As Brice continually said, Elenore had six years to plan for this. She wouldn’t depend on setting a single ambush and hope it succeeded.

Hannah said, “Your ideas?”

He settled back and relaxed. “I was afraid you’d want to rush on and fight whatever is waiting for us. I can’t help but think whatever is ahead is worse. My army may get through, or part of it, but useless slaughter is not something I condone.”

“What do you think is ahead?”

“We’ve confirmed Princess Elenore has more mages working for her. She’s promised lifetime positions of leisure and power to them. My guess is that on the long trail to Wren, which will take five or six days of marching, there are places where a mage would lay a trap.”

Thinking that both her and Brice held some mage powers and might resist an attack, she asked, “Like what?”

“I’d find a snowpack at the head of a small valley and use lightning to melt it. The flash flood would sweep down the valley, and across the trail, we travel. The same with boulders waiting to fall and crush us, or a hundred trees that fall at one time, just as we walk past.”

He was right. The ground could open below their feet, a portion of the road might fall over a cliff, or worse. Even though mages dealt with physical forces, her mind filled with images of a thousand poisonous snakes undulating from the sides of the trail and biting every leg they encountered.

The snakes were a symbol, not a reality. She hated snakes, but a good mage who wished to be rewarded with gold would think long and hard to impress the next Queen of Wren with the traps he would devise. Neither she nor Brice had the expertise to anticipate them, let alone defeat them.

“I see your point, General. Your suggestion?”

The slight nod of approval came as he spoke, “We found a prisoner inside the monastery. He is weak, seemingly a patriot, and more than willing to talk. He hates Elenore.”

“Who is he?”

“A gold prospector. He’s heard the stories of Eagle’s Nest and was captured while searching for gold.”

Hannah said, “There’s more?”

“He avoided capture because he didn’t use the trail.”

It took a few seconds for the impact of the simple statement to sink in. If true, it might circumvent the traps and ambushes waiting for them. “There’s another way?”

“He claims there is, but nobody knows of it because it is longer and much harder to travel.”

“Longer isn’t a problem.”

“Only he knows the route and is hinting at a reward.”

Hannah laughed. “What else would you expect? He’s a prospector, after all.”

“When will you be prepared to leave?” The general asked, looking ready to begin traveling instantly.

“As soon as I speak with this man and confirm his story. It might also be a trap.”

“Do you think he’s lying?” The general asked. He sounded almost offended that she might question his recommendation.

Standing, she faced him as she spoke, “What better way to lure me into a trap than to have a prospector conveniently offer another route? One far more dangerous than the original?”

“He seemed sincere.”

“What else would you expect? I’m not saying his offer isn’t true and well-intended, but I wish to speak to him in private before we risk everything on the word of someone we don’t know.”

The general called to the nearest soldier and ordered the prospector brought to Hannah. As she ate a strip of dried meat, a commotion caught her attention. Two soldiers half-carried a man who twisted and fought. He cursed, spat, dug in his heels, and finally managed to yank one arm free. A third soldier stepped in to help.

They deposited the dirty, bedraggled, half-starving man on the ground at her feet. His leather coat was ripped from shoulder to waist, and more rips and tears told of the hard times and years he’d worn it.

Hannah said, “Your name?”

“Ben.”

She helped him stand, then sat him on a log when his knees threatened to buckle. His left eye was swollen shut, nearly black, and his lower lip was split. Smoke and dirt stained his skin. She waved her arm, and the others backed off a few steps. “They hurt you? The others?”

He nodded, shifting his eyes from making direct contact.

Hannah sat beside him. “You were a prospector when you found another path through the mountains?”

He nodded again, somewhat more eagerly. “I’ll tell you.”

She glanced at his boots. They were boots worn by men in a city. His hands were filthy but unscarred. A prospector should have hands with signs of past cuts and worse. She said, “I used to prospect with my father. We used black marbles to help identify the flakes, the gold shows up well against black.”

“Me too. Sometimes.”

“If that didn’t work, we ran trace lines to make sure there wasn’t any quartz nearby. You know what that means, right?”

He nodded in quick agreement.

“Quartz always means you’re prospecting in the wrong place,” she said. At his nod, she continued in a silky voice, “Like you’re in the wrong place right now. What did Princess Elenore promise?”

“Who?”

Hannah stood and addressed him while standing as if she was a princess and he was nothing. She motioned for two of the soldiers to come closer, and to the general. “I don’t know how black marbles would help him find gold, trace lines are for mules pulling wagons, and if you want to find gold, you always follow the quartz, not run away from it. His hands are as smooth as mine. This man is no more a prospector than me.”

The general was embarrassed to have fallen for his trick. He grabbed the prospector by his coat-front, pulled him close and said, “They must have paid you well for you to take a beating and still work for them.”

Hannah said, “A lifetime of gold?”

The prospector was weeping openly.

The general turned to Hannah. “What should we do with him?”

“Hang him.”

The answer was quick, decisive, and unexpected. The soldiers and general reacted, but the prospector leaped to his feet as if healthy like them. “You can’t do that.”

“You can’t stop us,” she said. Then after a heartbeat, she continued, “However, you can talk your way out of a noose if you do it fast enough.”

“They’ll kill me if I talk.”

Hannah turned her back to him. “General, either get his whole story and a way off this mountain or hang him. Now. I don’t care which.” Without looking at him again, she walked away, never turning back to address his cries and threats until she was out of sight.

She moved to a campfire and warmed her hands while listening to the soldiers talking among themselves. Obviously, they hadn’t recognized her, yet. They were excited. Optimistic. Hopeful that Princess Hannah could end the war and return Peermont to peace so they could all go home to their farms and families.

It seemed so little to wish for. But, the part where they spoke of her as the only one who could end the war and return them to their old lives struck home. She was not responsible for only Wren, but these men and the entire kingdom she’d barely knew existed ten days ago.

The general joined her. “You walking away like that loosened his tongue. He thought it was over for him.”

The men at the fire recognized her now and began melting away. “Hey, this is your fire. Get back here.”

They slowly and silently returned.

She said to the general, “What did he tell you?”

“As you suspected, he is no prospector. He is a royal officer who reports directly to the King—or did until he accepted bribes to become part of the revolution.”

“Did he share anything valuable?”

“A traitor like that will sell his soul for a gold crown. I offered him gold I do not have, but he doesn’t know that. Yes, there is another way down the mountain, a third way. His job was to direct us to the second so we’d be unprepared for the ambushes they have waiting. But if we took the main trail there are more traps.”

“This third way—do you believe him?”

“I offered him gold, and the chance to walk at the front of our army with a noose around his neck to prevent him from running off. If we’re attacked, he’ll wear a dozen arrows in his back, no matter who wins the engagement.”

“That sounds great.”

“I offer my resignation.”

“What?” The statement took Hannah by surprise, and no other words came to mind.

“If you had followed my advice, we would all be dead in a day. I believed him, and that was the sort of mistake you cannot allow a general to make. I’ll introduce the major who will take my position. I’m certain he’ll do a credible job, Princess.”

“Nonsense.”

“Still, I offer my resignation and wish you well in the future.”

Hannah shook her head. “You offer your resignation, but I refuse to accept it. There is no better man to be my general, and you will have that position until I decide you must resign.”

“Thank you. Now, I must return to my duties.”

She watched him retreat. The men, common soldiers, still at the fire fidgeted and remained quiet. Hannah said softly, “I used to be a servant and worked the morning kitchens in the Earl’s Castle.”

The quiet grew intense until a young soldier no older than her spoke up. “Why?”

“It wasn’t my choice, but politics. Only a few people knew I existed and then my mother died. I’m not telling you this for sympathy, I just want you to know that I got up before the cooks every day, well or sick, and made the fires in the stoves so the cooks would have warm ovens. I’m more at home beside this fire with all of you than in a throne room surrounded by handmaidens and royalty.” She put her warm hands into her pockets and walked away.