Cruel Fortunes Omnibus: Volumes One to Four

by RAE STAPLETON

  FOURTEEN

  Southwestern Germany,

  W hen the motion ceased, I could hardly move a finger, let alone lift my head to take in my surroundings. Flat on my back, I listened to the light rattle of leaves falling as a gust took up, strong enough to dislodge them.

  A bird broke into song and I lifted my sleepy lids, expecting to see home or at the very least, the Palace of Monaco; not a group of weary, bloodshot eyes.

  Something had definitely misfired.

  I cast a covert glance around the circle, allowing my gaze to settle on the weakest link—a heavy man with whiskered jowls and sleepy eyes. There was a space to the left of him. I fled blindly through the ring of men, but I was slow from the time shift. An arm shot out for me as I darted by. I twisted free and made it several more feet. Branches scratched at my face and arms, and I stumbled over several rocks in my effort to get away.

  My ankle twisted as I tried to jump a fallen log but I pushed on.

  A dozen crows erupted from the canopy of the forest, bursting from the jagged line of trees, blacker than the night and screaming in their raspy voices.

  I longed to follow them above the trees. Then something clubbed me hard behind the ear, and I lurched headlong, landing with a thud that took my breath away. Rough hands flipped me onto my back. One of the strangers crouched beside me in the grass—a man with large, cat-like eyes, a broad mouth, and a salt-and-pepper beard. He wore a loose shirt, open at the chest. His skin was dirty and tanned like a laborer’s, and the rank of him invaded my nostrils.

  “What do you want?” I whispered.

  A grey-haired man, presumably the leader, stepped forward, shoving two men out of the way. “Beruhigen! Holen Sie sich weg von ihr!” He pulled me to my feet, “Wie ist dein name auf französisch?”

  There was something familiar about the language he spoke and yet I couldn’t make it out. The travel through that portal had been hard on me. That, or it was the club to the head.

  He grew impatient and flung me belly-down on to the saddle of a horse.

  I heard a bird’s song and then the crack of the feathered wings as it took to a hasty flight; maybe it had been trying to warn me off. A shower of broken twigs peppered me on the head, accompanied by one large butt to the back of my skull which, in my opinion, was completely uncalled for.

  I made a strangled noise as someone climbed on the horse behind me. I attempted to curse at him, but my words were lost in the clatter of the galloping hooves. I gave in and my world went dark again.

  Would you please stop already? I thought for the third time, as I came in and out of consciousness. Someone was now leading the horse, and I was tied to it. We paced much slower now, on narrow paths amid trees that towered to the heavens, their trunks incredibly large. Each step jarred the headache behind my eyes and my body ached from the jostling. The more I awoke, the more I realized it was daytime, and our path was leading upward through a forest. Everything was bathed in a soft, green twilight. Great, coniferous trees surrounded us and yet, despite the shade, the men still reeked of stale body odor—an unflattering combination of cheese and onions that faintly reminded me of a Big Mac.

  Despite the stench my stomach rumbled. How long had it been since they found me—one day—ten? Mushrooms grew in patches near some of the trees. I fantasized jumping down to eat them, and had I not been tied down, I might have tried. Then again, I would most likely have poisoned myself if left to my own devices.

  “Tötet sie!”

  The men didn’t yet realize I was awake. I understood enough of their German to get the general topic of conversation, and I stole a glance to see who had spoken.

  “Kill her,” one of the stocky, angry-looking men said. “She’s seen us.”

  “Nicht,” another said. “If we kill her, we’ll be hunted.”

  “Let her go. Leave her for the wolves,” a heavyset man with thick eyebrows replied vehemently. “She’ll die out here on her own.”

  “Halt die Klappe!” the leader yelled, scowling at all three. They stopped moving. There was only the sound of the bridles chinking as a deep hush fell over the group.

  “Enough with the debate. You see this?”

  My ring sparkled from between his fat grubby fingers.

  “I smell a hefty ransom—how ’bout you?” A man laughed outside my line of vision.

  I bit back tears. My family heirloom stolen… I really was trapped here.

  We journeyed on for at least another hour before my lids grew too heavy to bear. Words like castle and silver caught my ear from time to time and I wanted to remain awake to hear more. After all, I needed to know who these men were and, more importantly, where I was, but the dreams of home were preferable to this reality. The physical world finally intruded via muscle cramps along my arms and legs. Aches radiated up my backside and soreness pulsed from being in one position on the hard ground too long. I cracked an eye open, peeking out. Now on my side in the fetal position, I was fifteen feet from the fire. I was almost positive I could hear, very faintly, the trickle and splash of a stream off to the left. I even imagined I could smell the water. My lips, nostrils and throat burned. I would have crawled over hot coals at this point to get to the water. I lifted my hand to my face to scratch my nose, only to find I was tied to a tree. The man ordered to watch me earlier was nowhere in sight.

  With the sun nearly down, shadows played tricks on my mind, and my heart leapt into my throat as a small animal ran out of a bush and up a tree.

  No need to panic. I soothed myself as I attempted escape but the ropes were knotted far from my reach, and they felt as though they were getting tighter with every strained pull. Pushing through the fear, I concentrated on the leader’s words. He needed me alive to ransom. He’d probably start questioning me soon to find out where I was from. What would Sapphira’s family think? I’d bargain with him for water and food. More rustling sounded from the bush, and the silhouette of a man appeared.

  At last, I sighed as he came forward.

  I motioned for my throat. “Could I get some water?”

  He grinned wolfishly and then handed me a flask. As I drank deeply the alcohol burned but it was better than nothing. His eyes glinted and he bared his dirty, rotten teeth in another grin that made my stomach lurch. He ran his hand along my shoulder. Apparently, drinks cost a pound of flesh around here.

  I shook my head and pulled away. He was a scrawny, tanned man with a scruffy beard and dark-circled eyes. No prize by anyone’s standards. I hoped he’d take the hint but, instead, he gripped me by the shoulders.

  I clenched my fists and set my chin, and a cold shudder ran through my body as he attempted to lay me back.

  “Stop it,” I screamed, directly into his face which only angered him more.

  “Hinlegen!” he shouted, but I wasn’t about to lie down. Seizing my ankles, he jerked me flat and pinned me with the weight of his body. I thrashed wildly, looking for a way out.

  As he thrust his tongue in my mouth, I tasted sweat mixed with pork and schnapps. I gagged down the burning sensation in my throat. Then I butted at him with my head, not caring how much it hurt. I just wanted to make him stop.

  Strong hands pushed up my skirts, causing butterflies to shoot through my intestines.

  Fighting him was not working. I needed another tactic.

  “Please, stop,” I pleaded, wiggling under his gropes. “What’s your name? I’m Sophia.”

  He was breathing hard, and his heart was pounding against mine like a jack hammer. Reasoning didn’t appear to be working either, it was definitely too late to hope there was any blood left in his actual brain. I steadied my resolve. As he reached down, I saw my only chance to escape. I drove my knee into his balls, and as he fell forward, I rammed my elbow into his nose.

  Blood dripped from his face and he held his groin.

  “Hündin,” he spat.

  The look in his eyes sent sheer terror up through me. He backhanded me across the cheekbone. The pain sucked my breat
h from my lungs, and my eye felt like it exploded.

  Kneeing him might not have been my best idea and now I was going to die out here. I dug deep but I had nothing left. Sweat dripped from my brow, despite the cool night air, and chills formed at the base of my neck. He was about to kill me. I wished to see a friendly face again. Wished for someone to save me—maybe that handsome man Sapphira seemed so attached to. But he had no idea where I was. Hell, I had no idea where I was. I’d been stupid to run off to the alchemist half-cocked. I should have stayed at the Palace.

  I was pulled from my inner dialogue when the man changed his mind about immediately murdering me and fumbled once again with his belt.

  Not the outcome I’d prayed for but at least I wasn’t dead yet. I closed my eyes tight, praying it would all be over soon.

  With a sudden jerk, his body went heavy and limp. I opened my eyes, confused at why he’d suddenly stopped. Heart attack? Not that I minded. I was even more confused when he was tossed off of me, discarded to the side of the tree like a broken, life-sized doll.

  I turned my face upward as someone cut my ropes and scooped me up

  “Where are we going?” I mumbled. My mouth was coppery and tacky from a cut on the inside of my cheek.

  Receiving no answer from my companion, I repeated in a louder tone. “Where on earth are you taking me?”

  Nothing. No answer. Oh well, I thought and drifted into a pleasant slumber. I never thought it would have been possible to sleep on a galloping horse once, let alone twice, in the same day but I guessed there came a point where the body had enough.

  Stirring from my slumber, I sleepily opened my eyes and brought my hands up to my face to rub them; one eye felt puffy and reminded me of last night’s tryst with the barbaric gypsy. I yawned and gave a cat-like stretch. Graf Conrad Alexander Ferdinand of Württemberg stared back at me.

  “Guten morgan.”

  “Morning.” I licked my dry, cracked lips. “Water?” I managed to scratch out. He stopped fileting a snake and handed me a metal cup filled with brown-tinged water, which I thirstily chugged. I thought of my appearance and patted at my hair, feeling Sapphira’s tight curls.

  “What happened? I feel terrible.”

  He took his knife, once again expertly slicing into the snake in his hands. We sat in near perfect silence five feet from one another as the growing flicker of sunlight shone through the trees. Conrad finished with the snake and picked up a dead rabbit that lay at his feet. He sliced into the thick slab of flesh with a razor-sharp blade and inspected it as it separated. He cut again, and I cringed at the sound of the knife carving away at the muscle fibers and tendons.

  He looked worn out, wearing a week’s worth of stubble and clothes that appeared to have been lived in for just as long. He caught me staring at him, and a flicker of surprise showed in his sharp green eyes, as if he’d forgotten I was there. I reached out and touched his jaw. The hairs were dark and wiry and made him look even more fierce and rugged than his large, six-foot frame already allowed. He seemed to momentarily enjoy my caress before realizing his tough veneer was cracking. He pulled away as if my touch burned. Scowling to himself, shoulders falling, he withdrew from me and attended to the meat he was now roasting over the open fire.

  “Eat.” He shoved a plate into my hands, almost dumping the contents into my lap. I warily eyed it, remembering the large, innocent, bunny eyes. Just pretend it’s the snake. I couldn’t remember the last time I ate, but as my Gigi always use to remind me, beggars couldn’t be choosey. I was sure ninety-nine percent sure she’d never ate Thumper.

  Conrad looked handsome yet dangerous, and I thought of Leslie’s final warning: be careful. My taste in men did, after all, lean toward bad. If I was attracted to him then there had to be something wrong with him. And attracted to him I was.

  “Did you know those men?” I asked.

  Receiving a snort for reply, I concluded he didn’t like the question.

  “Are you in the habit of living in the woods now?”

  Still no response.

  “Conrad, where exactly are we?”

  “Württemberg,” he finally replied, placing a slice in his mouth and biting down firmly.

  As in Germany? I thought to myself. Well, I guess that makes sense when I considered the gypsy gang and their conversations.

  “How in the hell?” I mumbled aloud. This elicited a strange look from him and I turned away to avoid his gaze.

  So many questions swirled in my brain: why had the potion sent me? Was this Rochus’ doing? Or mine? I could have been thinking of his fiery green gaze when I jumped. Perhaps I inadvertently used him like an anchor in time.

  “How is it that you are unsure of where you are?” Conrad’s words interrupted my thoughts, and I looked at him, contemplating how much to share.

  “This is the Black Forest, isn’t it? What are you doing out here?” I asked, ignoring his question.

  He held his silence for a minute or two, his annoyance plain.

  “A week ago, your comrades back there managed to scheme their way into Schloss Lichtenstein.”

  My comrades. What in the hell did he mean by that?

  “My family was absent, but the servants were beaten and tied and those arschlöcher stole many family heirlooms. I returned home from a visit with my großmutter and only just missed them, so I took after them with some of my men, and we’ve been tracking them ever since. Yesterday we finally managed to steal back the jewels and silver.”

  “My ring! They stole it!” I cried out, grasping at my bare finger.

  “I sent my men ahead with the loot when I stumbled upon the foolish mess you’d fallen into,” he said, rather pointedly. “They will have it.”

  “What do you mean by that snarky comment? You think I chose this? I was kidnapped and for all I know, you were in on it.” I stared coldly into his eyes, for once not mesmerized by them.

  He ignored my accusation. “Ja! You were taken,” he spat. “But how did they find you.” The vein pulsed in his neck. “Women do not travel alone, so how did they come upon you? Who were you with? You cause me such trouble.”

  “No one. And don’t worry about me—I won’t trouble you further.”

  “The hell you won’t,” he barked, and ground his mouth down on mine. I kicked out at him and he let go.

  “Do you belong to another?”

  I made no sound, struck by the absurdity of his comment.

  “Tell me, damn it!”

  “No!” I bellowed.

  “Who were you running away with?” he asked. “Or running to—one of those bandits?

  “What are you talking about?” And, without pausing for a response, I bared my teeth in a grimace and spun on my heels, stomping off through the trees.

  FIFTEEN

  H iking in a corset was just about the worst thing I’d ever done. My feet were raw. I’d traded my heels for bare stockings an hour ago after one too many stumbles. Of course, the anger was my only refuge. If it faded then I’d have to come to terms with the foolishness of my situation. Overhead, the leaves whispered, calling me deeper and deeper into the woods. I scratched my head, trying to decide whether or not to turn back, and winced as my fingernails ran over a sore spot.

  Conrad had a foul temper. It was not so much what he said but how loud he said it that bothered me. I replayed our argument in my mind, trying to decide if he could be the one to eventually kill Sapphira. But I always came to the same conclusion. It didn’t add up. Why save me? What motive would he have to kill me? Jealousy over another man? Leslie’s skepticism toyed with my head. Or was Sapphira warning me from somewhere deep inside?

  The scent of wet foliage tickled my nose as I inhaled the muggy air. I hesitated. Another odor clung to the breeze, churning around me like smog. My stomach twisted. Rotten meat.

  I heard branches crack, dead branches on the forest floor, snapping beneath the weight of something. Someone. A cold chill ran through me, my nerves bristling. I took another step, caught
between the need to flee and a horrible curiosity that dug into my bones, slowing me down.

  My eyes searched the woods but saw nothing. Another step and the smell intensified. Again, my stomach threatened to revolt. I struggled to swallow the rising bile.

  I could not permit myself to go to that place of uncertainty. There had to be a town around here where I could convince someone to take me to the palace. Surely Sapphira’s family would pay the coach upon my safe arrival. After all, the Princess and I shared this body and if I was here, then she was still missing. Branches crackled once again and a deer leaped between the trees. I smiled at the doe and continued along my path until a luminous waterfall came into sight. Liquid silver poured over the rocks, forming a deep pool. The sun shone in the clearing, and I wiped away the sweat gathering on my forehead.

  A swim might cool me off but would it be safe? Dismissing my hesitation, I stripped off the layers I could manage to remove on my own and waded at once into the water, obviously spring fed and magnificently cold.

  Treading water, I saw a blur out of the corner of my eye. Then came a low growl from behind me. A trickle of dread ran through me. Should I turn and swim or yell for Conrad? I froze.

  Lowering my head, I felt a current of panic travel through my nerve endings like electricity. The snarl came again, closer now. Slowly, I turned.

  A furry, grey-and-black spotted face with light-colored cat eyes peered at me from the shadows. Branches snapped beneath it as it moved. My throat tightened. A scream rose from deep inside me. I wanted to swim but couldn’t. Helpless, I watched the horrible beast come closer.

  Conrad, I cried out in my head, help me, please! The words lodged in my throat. My movements grew desperate, and I thrashed on the spot. Stay quiet and still, I told myself, but panic took over. I swam hard for the other shore but the corset made it very hard to move freely. Beating me there, the devil-eared beast let out a deep-chested, continuous growl and bared his teeth.