Exile. Part 5

Robert moved. His head had cleared from the clubbing, and he had no desire to incur a second one. The forest floor s.h.i.+fted beneath his feet, and time began to stretch. Focus, he ordered himself. Prepare yourself for whatever is coming.

He peered more intently through the trees at the silent men. All armed. All except Jeynolds with a rifle in hand. At first, those were the only observations Robert could note, but as the journey lengthened, his eyes began to pry further details from the shadows. The weapons were all held in the same position. The men moved at the same pace. When they paused, they stood with their feet apart. In the same stance. At rest. Like the palace guard.

No. These were not the same men who had tried to murder Aurelia. They could not be members of the royal guard, or she would have recognized them. And hired a.s.sa.s.sins would not be out hunting mountain lions.

Though Horizon did not seem impressed by this fact. The stallion had slowed his pace and was walking with an uneven gait, lifting his hooves high and kicking at the underbrush. Aurelia moved up close to the horse's neck.

Just then a second cl.u.s.ter of outlaws drifted out of the trees. Also armed.

A stocky, mid-size man stepped forward as if to exchange greetings. But the pock-faced leader shook his head, lifting his chin in the direction of the bay stallion pawing the earth at Aurelia's feet. The newcomer looked, his face muscles stiffening, then his head turned back to the scarred man, and a long gaze transpired between them. No gestures were made. No hands shaken. The second band of men dissipated into the forest, leaving only the same eerie quiet broken by the remnants of Horizon's distress.

So there were more than a dozen outlaws. That should not be a surprise, but the control exhibited by each band's leader to hold the other men to silence-there was nothing normal about that. It required training. Intense organized training. Not the kind found among criminals.

His senses now alert, Robert kept an eye on the stallion as the party proceeded. He was more prepared for-and disturbed by-the appearance of a third band of men. Then a fourth.

Patrolling.

And then the houses began to appear. Small timber constructs gathered together along worn footpaths and eventually an actual road with wagon tracks. Women bustled forth, carrying wood. Most of them paid no heed to the party at all, but their children rushed up to the armed men, words of horror and excitement sweeping from young mouths to ask about the mountain lion's corpse that had already pa.s.sed their way. The stern expressions on some of the band members' faces creased into smiles, and one man laughed as he ran a hand through the ruddy curls of a young boy whose features matched his own.

These people lived here, then, amid the forest. Though none of the maps Robert had studied revealed any villages in the depths of the Asyan. Perhaps these men were a valid city guard. But no-even a local guard was required to identify itself. And no village could afford to hire the number of men he had seen this morning.

There was something just beyond his grasp.

And then the answer materialized. Ahead, the forest gave way to a giant man-made structure. Walls of thick, solid spruce rose from the earth, their ma.s.sive strength as intimidating as any stone barrier or gated portcullis. The roof arched in a steep slanted V, then stretched out behind and to the sides, covering not only the main building but what appeared to be stables as large as those at Midbury. And in front of the entire complex stretched a field, carved in the heart of the forest....

And crawling with soldiers. Not a city guard. Not outlaws. A private army. More than a thousand men.

Someone had gathered them here, trained them, and given them a reason to stay.

What would the king think if he knew how many men stood here, weapons in hand, three hundred miles from the capital? There were laws-clear, strict laws limiting private guards to specific charges. And numbers. Lest any one lord gain too much power over another, much less the crown.

Robert's gaze flew to Aurelia, and he wondered if the same thoughts had crossed her mind.

He could see her eyes flick from soldier to soldier. Counting.

As the party approached the crowded field, a tall man with dark hair and a rigid countenance came forward, then made a sharp gesture to his right at a boy in a brown vest who hurried forth to reach for Horizon's reins.

The stallion reared, and Robert felt Jeynolds's sword return to his throat before he even had a chance to intercede.

Aurelia stepped between the boy and the sharp hooves. "He's temperamental," she said.

The dark-haired soldier gave no response to her words, just gestured again toward the boy, who eased forward once more and stretched out his hand for Horizon to smell. The stallion snorted, stamped his feet, then turned away as though bored.

Aurelia's gaze slid toward Robert, a question in her eyes.

Of course he would have preferred to keep watch over the stallion, but the sword now easing toward his back made that impossible. He gave a slight nod, and she released the reins.

Stallion and boy headed toward the stables. One confrontation avoided.

But the dark-haired soldier's first comment severed any chance of respite. His tone stern, his words clipped, he turned his gaze from the prisoners to the scarred leader and said, "His Lords.h.i.+p wishes to see them."

Robert felt his thoughts whirl as minutes later he stepped under the beams of the Fortress entryway, his eyes resting on the brown skin of Aurelia's neck where it met her squared shoulders. Was it possible the head of this place was a genuine lord? A man with the authority to enforce law over the Asyan?

But a deep warning cut through Robert's thoughts.

A man who had gathered his own army in defiance of the crown. For whom no one, short of the king, would be less welcome than the crown princess.

Blood pulsed in Robert's eardrums. What he would not give for a minute-thirty seconds-to speak to her alone and warn her to remain silent. To maintain her anonymity.

But there was no privacy. And no time.

A thickset woman in brown housekeeper's garb bustled forward, her sharp gaze sweeping over the soldiers and landing on Robert and Aurelia. "The man first," came the woman's brisk command. "In the great hall. His Lords.h.i.+p is prepared for judgment."

Jeynolds shoved Robert forward.

Aurelia's protest rang behind him. "You have no right-"

Don't! he thought desperately. Don't tell them who you are.

Her voice faded behind a closed door, and Robert moved at sword-point down a long barren corridor and through an open entryway.

Into a giant s.p.a.ce of light and unrestrained voices. Tables surrounded with men crowded the room. Serving-women bearing pitchers of beer and platters of food squeezed their way around dangling feet and swinging elbows, and the scent of roast pork sent a knife through Robert's stomach. Then a brutal shove thrust him out into the hall's center aisle. Alone.

A man at the front table stood up.

All sound halted. And all eyes turned toward His Lords.h.i.+p. The man's fiery red mane draped past his bulky shoulders and down from his chin. In one hand, he wielded a gla.s.s of ruby wine, in the other, a knife bearing a giant hunk of meat. The rich food could explain his wide girth, but the muscles in his large arms belied all labels of the sedentary aristocracy.

The man's own gaze drilled into Robert's. "Approach." The lord pounded his wine gla.s.s down on the table. Crimson liquid splashed out.

It could be worse, Robert told himself, as he stepped past the crowd of onlookers. I could be asking to court his daughter.

"Your name," the lord ordered.

Robert held his tongue. There was no telling what detail, no matter how minor, might betray Aurelia's ident.i.ty. And though Robert's first name was not nearly as well known as his last, there were bound to be rumors: about the missing princess; her journey; and, as much as he had tried to deny it, her relations.h.i.+p with him.

The lord waited, then took a bite of his meat, chewed, and swallowed. "You have been charged with hunting on my land. Is this true?"

There was no point in denial. Surely one of the men from the band of captors had already told about the events of the previous night. "Yes, Your Lords.h.i.+p," Robert replied.

"And are you guilty?"

Lies came too easily and cost too much. "Yes."

The man lowered his knife, allowing the now barren blade to dangle outward as he strolled around the table, his eyes on everyone in the room except for Robert. "I don't suppose," he said as though sharing a joke with his audience, "you would care to elaborate." He completed the half-circuit and stopped five feet away.

Robert's thoughts scrambled for an explanation, one that would bear the ring of truth without betraying her. He could not find one. "No, Your Lords.h.i.+p."

"Do you know who I am, boy?"

No. And ... yes. There was only one man with a real t.i.tle to the Asyan. Robert had not thought of him before because the lord's indolent reputation held next to nothing in common with this muscular figure. But then ... a man plotting treason would not survive an accurate reputation. "Yes, Your Lords.h.i.+p." Robert could not suppress the edge in his voice.

The knife plunged into the crease of the circuited table. "And do you doubt that I could have you killed this instant with the full support of the law?"

This t.i.tled man with his treasonous army chose to invoke the name of the law? Robert's sarcasm was now heavy. "No, Your Lords.h.i.+p."

A half dozen soldiers, swords raised, launched from the sides of the room.

And Aurelia's voice rang over the vast hall. "Release him in the name of the crown."

Honestly! she thought, sweeping down the center aisle in her tattered riding clothes. Couldn't their host see that Robert was trying to protect her? It had become clear to Aurelia, moments before when she had been offered a silk dress to change into, that the person in charge knew who she was.

"Your hospitality is rather lacking, Lord Lester," she said, stepping past Robert and coming to a halt in front of the red-haired man she had never met before.

The large man arched an eyebrow and gave an ironic bow. "We can hardly be blamed for not being prepared for your visit, Your Highness, as there was no warning. Though it is, nonetheless, an honor to have you at our estate. The crown excluded, of course."

She raised her chin.

Robert's hand gripped hers from behind. Why did he always know when she was bluffing?

"I have long missed out on meeting you at court, Your Lords.h.i.+p," she replied, a caustic bite to her tone.

Lord Lester chuckled. "I am much more at comfort here, Your Highness, where all the weapons are clearly displayed."

She allowed her gaze to circle the audience, taking in the vast number of armed men, all prepared to arrest her at the slightest gesture from their leader. "I am impressed," she said, "by the committed group you appear to have gathered."

Robert's grip tightened on her hand, and she pulled away, taking one more step forward. If this lord was an enemy, she would cede him no authority.

"That I have." Lord Lester's chest rose in pride. "I daresay you'll not find an equal example of loyalty in the kingdom." The crowd erupted in a brief cheer of support.

Aurelia blinked. "On the contrary, I believe the young man you have threatened just now is at least as fine an example. Would you not say his refusal to betray my ident.i.ty or lie to you at peril of his own life can compare to any form of loyalty?"

The raised swords at His Lords.h.i.+p's side eased toward the ground, and there was a brief silence.

Lord Lester grinned, a glimmer in his eyes. "Not sure loyal is the term I would use. But then who am I"-he chuckled-"to question a man for taking a risk to protect a woman of your particular bloodline."

Her bloodline?

"I hope you will not judge my men too harshly, Your Highness." He gestured at Jeynolds, who still held his sword to Robert's back. "After all, they may have recognized your face, but they could not be certain of who you were."

What did that mean?

Again he chuckled, this time the light in his eyes stretching across his ruddy cheekbones. "But I am indulging my sense of humor at your expense. My wife"-he paused and his voice gentled-"will not approve."

Then he stepped aside and gestured backward at a portrait.

Of a woman. Seated. Thin arms clasped, false light haloing the face and dark features.

My hair. My skin. My eyes.

Aurelia felt her heart explode at the sight of her mother. Her portrait. In this buried-away fortress in the depths of Tyralt, in a great hall filled with gawking soldiers. On display here, when it was never, ever displayed in the royal palace.

Yet there was something even more disturbing about the image: the hollowed cheekbones, the indentations of the woman's temples, the lines in the skin along her eyes. Age.

Lord Lester's statement finally penetrated. My wife will not approve.

His wife?

Aurelia wanted to scream or cry or fight. Her mother was here? In this fortress? Now? But even so, the former queen was absent.

Nothing.

Aurelia had never had any defense against nothing. She whirled and flung herself from the room.

Chapter Six.

THE BLUE ROOM.

THE SWORD WAS STILL AT ROBERT'S BACK, BUT HE could not have followed her anyway. He had seen the look on her face. A look that forbade contact.

Far better that than her empty gaze from the forest. Though this man-this lord-had risked plunging her into that abyss with his tactless revelation. "Is that what you were hoping for?" Robert accused. "Treating her life as if it were your entertainment."

The array of weapons lifted again.

But His Lords.h.i.+p did not bother to reply. Instead he gestured toward a woman at the door, the housekeeper from the entrance. "Find her." Lester's voice rang across the room.

The woman nodded and bustled away.

The large man's chest rose and fell several times. Then he gave a sharp gesture to a soldier on his left. "Clear the room."

At once the serving-women and the men from the tables withdrew, filing out with such speed the hall emptied in a matter of minutes. Steel remained at Robert's back, and the aura of danger swelled within the vacant s.p.a.ce. No one else remained save for Jeynolds, the row of soldiers beside Lord Lester, and the man who had hired them.

His Lords.h.i.+p began to pace, staring at the floor as he pounded back and forth. "What brought you here?" he demanded from Robert.

"Your men."

Lester spun, color splattering his face. "Why? Why are you here?"

Robert replied coolly. And slowly. "Because your men brought us here."

The pacing stopped. "If you will not provide answers, you have no place on the premises."