Bloodleaf (Bloodleaf #1)(86)

“What are you doing here?” I asked, putting my knife away. “Where’s Ella?”

Nathaniel nodded to a bundle of blankets close by, where Ella was staring wide-eyed up at the gibbet where Gilroy’s ghost seemed to be playing a game with her. He would peer out, wiggle his fingers until she gurgled at him, pull back for a moment, then peek out again. “I was at another camp, procuring horses for us, when they got Zan. There are guards everywhere, watching everything, so I haven’t been able to get back into the city to find him. And then I heard some talk about a girl who appeared out of thin air outside the wall after the gates closed, and she matched your description, so I followed your tracks here . . .” He paused. “Is that Prince Conrad? Emilie, did you kidnap Prince Conrad?”

“No, of course not! He’s my—?”

“I’m her brother,” Conrad supplied, peeking out from behind my skirt.

Nathaniel gaped.

“Too tight,” Darwyn said in a strangled voice. “Too tight!”

“Oh,” Nathaniel said, sheepishly releasing him from the headlock. “Sorry.”

“Bunch of stars-forsaken loons,” Darwyn muttered, rubbing his sore neck. “The whole lot of ye.”



* * *



Despite Darwyn’s fierce objections at being made to leave, Nathaniel secured a place for him in one of the refugee trains heading out. He carried as many bottles of his booze as he could fit into his bag and grumbled ferociously at having to leave the rest behind, but he went. Nathaniel gave him a coin for his trouble. He was kinder than I would have been; Darwyn did help us, true, but only because he feared for his extremities. In my opinion, keeping all his parts attached should have been payment enough.

Nathaniel knew of a good place to camp a couple of miles south of the wall, by the River Sentis. With the roads now overwhelmed by travelers, his options had dwindled. His plan was to bypass most of the slow caravans by cutting through the Ebonwilde and meeting the road again several leagues past the junctions from Achlev to Ingram, Castillion, and Achebe.

“Maybe by then,” he said, one hand on the reins, the other cradling Ella’s sling, “many will have split off to head toward Castillion and Achebe, or Aylward farther west, and the road will be clearer.” He looked at Conrad, sitting in the front of the saddle on the horse that had been meant for Zan, dozing against my chest. “What are you going to do?”

“I’m going to make sure Conrad is secure, and then I’m going back for Zan.” The sound of his name left my stomach in a twist. “I’m going to get him out. Once that’s done, I can worry about everything else.”

Nathaniel was staring a little. “I’m sorry,” he said. “I still can’t quite comprehend that you’re the Renaltan princess.”

“Believe me, you are far from alone.”

Nathaniel reined his horse in. “Stop. Do you hear that?”

“The river?” I asked, but he’d already dismounted and was leading his horse quietly through the undergrowth.

“Wake up, Conrad,” I whispered as I softly shook my brother from his doze.

He stirred, rubbing his eyes. “Where are we?”

“I don’t know,” I said. Ahead, Nathaniel put his finger to his lips. Shhhh. I dismounted but let Conrad stay in the saddle as I brought our roan up next to Nathaniel’s bay mare.

Nathaniel pointed. “Look, there. In the valley.”

The first things I saw were blue flags emblazoned with the silhouette of a white winged horse: the standard of Renalt. Beneath the pennants stood a cluster of tents and dozens of horses, all bearing the regalia of the Renaltan military.

“Are they friends or foes?” Nathaniel asked.

“In Renalt it’s always hard to know.” I squinted while I scanned the encampment, then gasped. “There.”

Beneath one of the blue flags waved a smaller white one, bearing the circular, spread-branched hawthorn seal of the Greythorne family.

I leaped back onto the horse behind Conrad and snapped the reins. With my heart pounding in time to his hoofbeats, we sailed down the embankment toward the camp. I had no backup plan, no strategy for escape if these soldiers had come at Toris’s behest. My only thoughts were of a white flag and a hawthorn tree.

The soldiers saw us coming. By the time we reached the encampment, the men in blue uniforms were lined up in a defensive formation, swords drawn.

“Halt!” one of them cried as we approached. “State your name and your business.”

Head high, I said, “I am Aurelia, princess of Renalt. I bring with me my brother, Conrad, high prince and future king of Renalt.” Nathaniel cantered in behind us. “And Nathaniel Gardner, our valued ally and friend.”

A murmur went up among the men as Conrad and I were scrutinized. We were dirty and disheveled, with bags under our eyes and little bits of straw stuck in our clothes. I didn’t blame them for doubting our claim.

“Can anyone here speak to the truth of her words?” the man asked.

Suddenly a voice rang out from behind the line. “She is who she says! I can testify on her behalf! I’ll vouch for her, and I’ll stand with her, and I’ll fight anyone who gets in my way.”

“Kellan?” I asked, hardly daring to breathe.

He pushed his way out of the crowd. “As I always have. And always will.”