“She’s not dead,” Jacaré said with conviction. “Everyone back on your horses. We ride without stopping until we find her.”
“But—”
Jacaré cut off Pira’s complaint and kicked dirt over their fire and the fish. “Leão, heal the horses at steady intervals. I don’t care if their legs break. You heal them while they run.” He turned to Tex. “What do you remember of the last images? Can you find where she was living?”
“A mango orchard. From the angle of the sun, I’d say on the southwest corner of the Santiago township.”
“We’ll ride there first. If we’re lucky she’ll have dropped the necklace somewhere in the woods.”
Mother Lua, Jacaré thought. I’ve gone insane. He replayed his instructions in his head but had no time to doubt anything he’d said. They had to get to the girl before. . . . Then the image made sense.
The bit of thatch at the bottom of the image wasn’t a roof. The texture was too smooth and orderly. It was hair.
Someone had attacked the princess.
Jacaré kicked his horse’s flanks. He’d ride the animal to its death if that meant saving the heir and Santarem.
Chapter 73
Rafi
Rafi had no problem following the trail Johanna and her brothers had laid. Broken sticks, trampled grass, toe digs in the soft dirt were all there for those who looked, but in the end he didn’t even need them. Michael’s voice blasted from over a rise and Rafi sprinted to the sound.
“I’ll kick him in the shins! I’ll bite off his nose!” the boy yelled, his face red in his frenzy. “No one knocks my sister down!” He demonstrated exactly what he wanted to do, spinning and thrashing, little fists swinging in anger.
Joshua stood nearby, snapping the heads off wild wheat and crumbling them as he walked.
Rafi jogged past both of them and straight to Johanna. “What happened? Who knocked you down? Are you hurt?” He grabbed her elbows to study her face. Her hair was a bit askew and the back of her dress had picked up some dirt, but otherwise she looked uninjured.
“It was Duke Belem,” she said, and Rafi could feel a slight tremble run through her. “He didn’t hurt me, not really. At first it seemed as if he had . . . intentions.” She tilted her head toward her brothers, and Rafi knew that he’d have to wait for a full explanation. “He knocked me down and stole my necklace.”
“Your necklace?” A thin line of blood, fine and bright, showed against her pale skin. “Why would he want your necklace?”
“I have no idea. It was just a flawed crystal on a chain.” She pressed her hand to her throat. “It was sentimental in value because it belonged to my father.”
Michael jumped between them. “Whatcha’ going to do, Lord Rafi? Are you going to punch him in the face? Throw him in jail?”
Flog, beat, castrate him. The law in Santiago required no less, and Rafi wanted to hand out the Punishment personally.
“Nothing,” Johanna said.
“What?” Rafi asked.
“I’m unharmed. Lord Belem was confused, and likely drunk. He made a mistake.”
“Johanna, that’s ridiculous. There has to be some recourse—”
She squeezed his arm hard. “We’ll discuss it later. Let’s get back to the group, and have a nice afternoon.”
“You don’t intend to perform now. Not after this.”
“I intend to act like nothing happened, draw no further attention to myself, and then go home.” To end the conversation, she turned and followed Joshua up the hill, draping an arm around the little boy’s hunched shoulders.
There wasn’t much of a party to return to. Dom and Snout rode back from the estate announcing that Duke Belem had fled with only three of his retainers in tow.
“Did you see him? Did he say anything?” Rafi asked.
“I did, my lord,” offered Snout. “He didn’t even stop to pack. Simply grabbed the first few men he saw and headed due north like he had a hurricane on his heels.”
The two underlords who’d accompanied Belem to Santiago didn’t know what to make of their liege lord’s strange actions.
Lady DeSilva took control. “Duke Belem must have had a reason to return to his estate. Perhaps he received a missive we are unaware of or had an ominous feeling that he should go home.” She patted arms and offered smiles as she moved through the crowd. “Given the strange circumstances, I suggest we retire to the manor for the rest of the evening and I’ll have my staff provide you each with private meals. You can send birds to the towns he may pass through or pack for your own return journeys if you choose to leave.”
This appeased most of the guests, though it didn’t stifle the murmuring. Heads were bent together, nervous questions filled the air. Why had Duke Belem left? Was he offended? Was there an emergency? Was war on the horizon? Eyes darted between the DeSilvas and Inimigo, judging and deciding based on the lords’ actions what their next steps should be.
Rafi was happy to let his mother handle it all, to whisper in ears and calm nerves. His mind festered with a question he couldn’t answer: What happened between Belem and Johanna that sent the duke running?
Chapter 74
Rafi
Rafi’s hands gripped his reins too tightly, causing Breaker to toss his head irritably. The horse recognized his master’s feelings and pranced a bit in response. Rafi wanted to relax, but he couldn’t forget what had nearly happened to Johanna that afternoon. He patted the horse’s neck in apology.
“We’re ready to ride, my lord.” Captain Alouette already had Michael mounted on his horse and a bedroll attached to his saddle.
Dom hauled Joshua up behind him. Rafi wasn’t going to leave Johanna’s care to the two guards who drew the short straws for the duty, who could so easily be distracted by a cherry tart or a tart in a dress. Captain Alouette was the best soldier on the estate and someone he trusted implicitly. He and Dom had agreed to stand guard at the Van Arlos’ camp—though Alouette had raised questioning eyebrows at the order. With these men, Johanna would be safe until different arrangements could be made.
Arrangements Rafi was certain she wouldn’t like.
“Here she is,” Dom said as Johanna walked out of the estate dressed in her hunting leathers.
They fit better than Rafi remembered, hugging her like an acrobat’s costume. She’d been eating well since she’d started working for his family, and it showed.
She held up a hand and Rafi tugged her into the saddle without a word.
Rafi let Dom and Captain Alouette lead the way to the forest trail. Breaker wanted to stay close to the other horses, but Rafi held him back, trying to maintain enough space to keep their conversation private.
“How are you?” he asked quietly.
She sighed, her breath warm on his neck. “I’m fine. Grateful. Confused.” She snorted. “My mother said that necklace never brought my father good luck, but I can’t help but think it saved me today. Though I have no idea why.”
Rafi had explained the situation to his mother, who was equally dumbfounded by Belem’s strange actions. Rafi wanted to send a group of men to ride after the duke and drag him back to face justice. As usual Lady DeSilva cautioned him to do the opposite. “Any action you take will have political repercussions. Right now, with things so unstable and so much in question, I suggest you send a letter to his estate expressing your displeasure—”
“I’m not displeased, Mother. I’m livid.” Rafi had stomped around the lady’s sitting room, wanting to drive his boots into Belem’s face.
Lady DeSilva considered him for a time before asking, “At Belem or at yourself?”
The answer, of course, had been both.
The rest of their conversation—discussing his feelings toward Johanna—wasn’t something Rafi wanted to revisit, especially with her sitting so close to him now.
“I have a proposition
for you,” he said, tracing the horn of his saddle idly.
“I’ve already been propositioned once today, thank you.”
Rafi smiled. If Johanna was in full command of her wit, then she was probably fine.
“It’s not that sort of proposition.” He paused, knowing that if he didn’t phrase his request just so, Johanna would balk and he’d have a fight on his hands. “I’d like to extend the terms of your contract, to make you my estate’s official court performer. The title would offer your family a sense of stability, a constant income, and room and board.
“There’s a small cottage that generally belongs to the Captain of the Guard and his family, but Alouette is not married, so it’s currently vacant.” He pressed on through her silence. “It has two bedrooms on the main floor and a loft above. It’s not large, but it’s comfortable.”
“I can’t,” she said simply, her fingers tightening in the sides of his vest and pulling it taut across his chest.
“Yes, you can.” Rafi tried to peer at her over his shoulder. “You don’t have to stay with us forever. When you turn eighteen you can return to Performers’ Camp, and they won’t hold any of your actions against you.”
“I just . . . can’t.”
Rafi bit down hard enough to make his teeth hurt. Couldn’t she see that he was trying to protect her? Couldn’t she see that he cared?
He turned halfway in the saddle and grabbed the poorly tied strap of Johanna’s satchel.
“What are you doing?” She shied back a little, her eyes wide and frightened.
He yanked the bag off her shoulder and threw it into the bushes.
“Are you cra—”
“Oh blast!” Rafi yelled loud enough to catch both Dom’s and Captain Alouette’s attention. “Johanna’s lost her bag somewhere along the trail. You ride on ahead and we’ll be right behind you.”
Dom grinned and wagged his eyebrows. “Sure thing, brother. Catch up to us when you can.”
If only.
Chapter 75
Johanna
Rafi had lost his Keeper-cursed mind. She dismounted by herself, shaking off his help, and headed toward the bushes where she thought he’d tossed her bag.
“Do you have any idea what that cape cost? It’s not like I have an eternal stock of powders and props, unless I go to Performers’ Camp and purchase more.” She swatted away a thistle bush. “And not only that, but my cape was specially made by mother as a wedding gift for my father. I can’t believe you just—”
She turned from her search to find Rafi standing right behind her, the satchel hanging from his outstretched fingers.
“I threw it next to that walnut tree, and I’m sure you’ll find it still serviceable.” There was no levity in his words, no smile on his face, as if he hadn’t played some mindless joke. “I have several similar satchels and you can pick a new one tomorrow, or I’ll buy you one if none of mine are satisfactory.”
Johanna had the oddest sensation that her skin had shrunk, compressing her breath, her movement, even her thoughts. “Rafi, what’s wrong?”
He stepped closer, close enough that she had to tilt her head to look up at him. The evening stars crowned his dark head with pinpoints of light, casting a shadow over his eyes. The effect was stunning, highlighting his straight nose and full mouth. The memory of his hands at her waist, of the way her arms fell naturally at his biceps, made her stomach quiver.
“What happened with Belem today . . .” He hesitated and pushed the satchel into her arms. “I think—and my mother does too—that it was just the beginning of the danger you’re in.”
She gave a humorless laugh. “That’s ridiculous. I’m certain no other lord will corner me in the forest, except perhaps you, and be . . . and try . . .” She waved her hand, hoping he’d finish the sentence. “I seem to have a knack for being in the wrong place at the wrong time. Perhaps I should take Thomas’s advice and stay out of the woods.”
“Probably, but it’s more than that.” He ran a hand through his hair, tugging at the curls. “Johanna, has anyone ever told you that you look like Wilhelm’s queen?”
“No.” She shook her head, hoping the movement would loosen all the parts of her that had grown uncomfortably tight. “Why would they? My mother says I look exactly like her mother. My hair, my eyes, my build, everything.”
“Did you ever meet your grandmother?”
“She died years before I was born.”
He nodded, as if this was confirmation of something she didn’t understand. “Give me a moment to explain before you interrupt.” He placed his hands on her shoulders. “Someone has been hunting girls who match your description: dark haired, pale eyed, beautiful. Fernando told me that two girls have been murdered in Impreza this year, and we’ve heard rumors of other similar murders. All the girls bore a resemblance to the dead queen.
“The issue is that my mother—who was a close friend to Queen Christiana—sees the resemblance in you. There’s something about your eyes and the way you talk that my mother can’t ignore. You’re exactly the age of Wilhelm’s daughter. Your father had a very close relationship with the king, perhaps even as his spy. ‘The Survivor of Roraima’ was a story that came from Performers’ Camp. It may have originated with your father, and could have been based on his escape—”
“Stop!” She shoved his hands off her shoulders, and then followed with a push to his chest. “My father was not a spy. He was an acrobat and a storyteller. He traveled everywhere. Not just to Roraima. I was born at Performers’ Camp. I. Am. A. Performer.”
“I’m not disagreeing with you.” He reached for her hands, trying to soothe her. “There are others, dukes like Belem and Inimigo, and Mother Lua only knows how many others, who will look at you and see a threat—as someone who could make a bid for the throne of Santarem and shatter their plans to take it for themselves.”
“But it’s not true!”
“They don’t care. Inimigo fought a war for ten years, and only quit when his army was depleted. Do you think that after all of that, one more life would make a difference to him?”
Johanna backed away from him, backed away from his words, backed away from the doubts that surged into her mind.
Why don’t I look like my brothers? Why can’t I sing like my mother? Why do I have to work twice as hard at everything that comes to them so naturally?
She only got a few steps before her hip collided with a tree. She slid down the trunk, tucking her knees to her chest. “I’m not the princess.”
Rafi sat on the ground beside her, his shoulder against her knee. “That may be true, but until the threat has passed, I’ll keep you safe. If you move closer to my estate, we’ll be able to keep guards around you and your family.”
“For how long? For a year? For ten years?” She took a breath, but her lungs wouldn’t expand. “Till Inimigo gives up? Till Belem dies?”
He cupped one of her knees and gave it a gentle shake. “I’ll talk to him. I’ll tell him you’re not who he thinks you are.”
“Because I’m not. I’m just a Performer girl, who wants to live a Performer life.”
“I’m not sure I believe that either.”
Her forehead crumpled. “Why not?”
“When people talk about you, they do it with a sense of awe.” Rafi’s hand moved from her knee to her arm. “You are so much more than just a Performer.”
No obligation, no lingering debt of honor, made him say those words. His tone was warm, not forced or faked.
Johanna leaned into his touch, wanting more contact, to feel his mouth over hers. She took a deep breath, expecting the scent of wood and leather that lingered on his skin, but all she smelled was smoke.
She turned toward her family’s camp. “Rafi . . .” She bolted to her feet. “Look!”
Above the trees, licking the night sky with tongues of yellow and orange,
were flames. They shot and twisted in the breeze, sending sparks into the orchard.
“The wagons!” she shouted, sprinting down the forest road.
Chapter 76
Rafi
She stuck to his back like a tick, holding tight to his body, her breath rasping in his ear. They rode Breaker faster than any sane person would have.
The horse pulled up short when they neared the smoke-filled orchard. Breaker whinnied and pranced, but Johanna leaped off his back and ran ahead.
Then she tripped and tumbled, disappearing out of sight.
Her name burst from Rafi’s lips as he followed at a dead run, nearly falling over the same obstacle.
Captain Alouette.
Four arrows protruded from his chest, one more from his neck. His eyes were open, but their glazed surface didn’t see anything around him. His sword still hung at his hip.
Ambush. Rafi crouched, keeping his head low, and drew the dead man’s sword.
He heard Johanna’s voice, keening for her mother and brothers. She ran toward the wagons, both of which were burning.
As Rafi passed Alouette’s body, the roof of the farthest wagon collapsed inward, tearing at the air with the screams of wood.
Johanna threw her arms over her head, protecting it from the bits of flaming lumber that fell like rain around them.
“Mama!” She spun in a circle, searching for any sign of her family. “Joshua! Michael! Thomas!”
“There!” A dark mound blocked the trail leaving the clearing. Rafi ran past her, ducking under the low branches of a massive mango tree.
He dropped to his knees, skidding across the dirt, and stopped next to the body. Bodies, he realized, as he rolled Dom onto his side. Joshua lay underneath the younger lord, and even in the half light, Rafi could make out their blood-blackened clothes.
“Dom,” Rafi whispered, sliding his fingers up his brother’s torso. They came away warm and sticky. He reached for his brother’s neck and found the flutter of a pulse. Rafi ripped his vest over his head and pressed it against his brother’s chest, trying to stem the blood flow from a wound he couldn’t see.
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