Silent Bells: Homeward IX

by Barb Hendee

  Before anyone could move, Braeden swept an arm forward and two more of his men pushed in past Cadell and down the passage.

  “Please,” Julianna begged, unable to keep silent. “The lady is ill. Let me get her. Let me tell her what’s happening.”

  But the lieutenant ignored her and both his men strode down the passage.

  “What will happen to Jan?” she demanded.

  Now that she’d spoken, she couldn’t seem to stop.

  This time, Braeden glanced at her and then Cadell before answering. “He’ll be taken to Enêmûsk and hanged… as a lesson for any would-be deserters.”

  “Hanged,” Julianna gasped. “But the war is over!”

  Braeden appeared to enjoy this. “The war wasn’t over when he deserted, and he embarrassed the captain in charge of our contingent. As soon as Captain Oakes learns I have the deserter in my custody and I remind him of what happened, I will have no trouble getting a death warrant signed.”

  Jan offered no reaction at all, and neither did Cadell. Julianna didn’t understand any of this.

  Two saddled horses were led out of the stable, and then Julianna heard an anguished cry echo up the front passage. She turned to see the two soldiers who’d entered the keep now dragging Gisele toward the front doors… wearing nothing but a borrowed nightgown.

  “No! No!” Gisele was screaming, struggling wildly to break free. When the men pulled her outside and she saw Jan in custody and being led toward the two extra saddled horses, she stopped fighting and her face lost all expression.

  “No,” she whispered one last time.

  The lieutenant glared at her with a hatred that bordered on madness as the sheen on his face glistened in the morning light.

  “Sir, please,” Julianna begged again, hoping he might listen. “At least let me fetch the lady a cloak. Enêmûsk is days away, and you’ll be sleeping outdoors. Please, just wait for me to get her a cloak!”

  He behaved as she hadn’t spoken, and one of the soldiers lifted Gisele onto a horse.

  Jan climbed up into a saddle and took the reins with his bound hands. He looked over at Julianna, and she clenched her own hands in frustration. Braeden barked an order to pull out, and all twelve horses broke into a trot, passing through the gate and down the road.

  Julianna stood there sucking in harsh breaths, unable to believe what had just happened.

  Jan was gone.

  Zupan Cadell watched the contingent riding away for a few long moments.

  Behind him, Rosario asked, “How long do we wait?”

  “Midday,” Cadell answered. “Give them a good head start, and we’ll make sure they’re well away from our fiefdoms. No one will connect them to us if they vanish.”

  Julianna blinked, uncertain what she was hearing.

  Cadell turned around and looked at Rico. “You can track them?”

  Rico nodded. “I can track them.”

  · · · · ·

  Shortly before mid-day, Julianna walked out the main doors of the keep and headed straight for the stable. For the first time in her life, she was about to make a demand of Zupan Cadell… and she wasn’t taking no for an answer.

  Her preparations had been simple and quick. She’d cut away the bottom of an old wool dress so that it only reached her knees, and then she’d donned a pair of boy’s pants, boots, and a well-worn cloak.

  Upon reaching the door to the stable, she took a deep breath and entered—with a fairly good idea what she’d find inside.

  Six horses had been saddled and six men moved about inside preparing for a journey. The size of the group made sense—large enough to get Jan back while small enough to travel swiftly.

  Zupan Cadell, Rosario, and Rico were packing supplies into saddlebags. Rosario appeared enormous inside the stable, and she hoped his horse would be able to carry him. Guardsman Klayton and two of the keep’s other hired men, Logan and Sawyer, were discussing weapons. The three of them wore swords, but they seemed to be choosing options for the others.

  “Get Zupan Cadell a crossbow and a dagger,” Klayton said. “He’s never used a sword.”

  As Julianna stepped in, Cadell glanced at her, looked around at the others, and then looked back with a frown at the sight of her pants and boots.

  “What do you think you’re—?”

  “I’m coming,” she answered before he could finish asking.

  At that, both Rosario and Rico looked over at her. She couldn’t tell what either one was thinking.

  Cadell’s face went red, and he sputtered, “No, you are not! You’re staying right here with Nadja. Jan’s already been taken, and I’ll not have her losing the both of you.”

  “I’m coming,” she said quietly. “I want a horse and a small crossbow.”

  His face still red, Cadell strode straight at her, but she didn’t flinch and she didn’t budge.

  “If you try to leave without me,” she added, “I’ll wait until you’re gone and come after you.”

  He stopped in his tracks.

  “Father,” she said. She’d never called him that before, even though he’d been a father to her. “It’s Jan. I’m coming.”

  “Let her come,” Rico put in.

  Before the zupan could say anything more, Julianna turned to Guardsman Klayton and repeated, “I want a crossbow.”

  · · · · ·

  Jan rode behind Gisele all day, heading west toward Enêmûsk. By nightfall, she was swaying atop her horse to the point that he feared she would fall.

  Finally, Braeden called a halt and ordered his men off the road so they could make camp.

  Jan’s thoughts hadn’t stopped churning all day, but as of yet, he hadn’t come up with a plan to save himself or Gisele.

  Back at the keep, his only goal had been to stop Braeden’s men from burning the wagons and the stable and then likely the village. He’d not thought a moment beyond that. Now, he couldn’t stop seeing Julianna’s stunned face as she’d watched him mount up in the courtyard with his wrists bound.

  This should have been the happiest of days for her, and he’d made it one of the worst.

  It also embarrassed him that he’d been relieved when she’d shouted “No!” upon his decision to turn himself over. She’d have watched Braeden burn the wagons instead. That meant she still loved him. But he couldn’t have let the wagons be burned. Once she’d had a moment to think rationally, she would have realized this.

  “Günter! Terome!” Braeden called. “Get a fire going. Jacon, see to the horses. Sergeant Cullen, you guard the prisoner.”

  He continued giving orders as camp was set up, but he neither mentioned nor looked at Gisele, who still sat shivering on her horse, wearing nothing but a nightgown as she clutched her mount’s mane to keep from falling.

  Jan wondered what would happen if he dismounted and tried to help her.

  The problem was solved for him as a late-middle aged soldier with a graying, close-trimmed beard walked swiftly over to her and reached up with both hands.

  “My lady,” he said. “Try to put your hands on my shoulders, but otherwise don’t assist me. Let me lift you down.”

  The mix of pain and pity in his voice startled Jan.

  “Cullen,” Gisele whispered.

  The man was old enough to be her father, and his expression held a fatherly countenance as he lifted her down and carried her to tree stump a few paces away.

  “Sit here, my lady. I’ll have the fire built close by.”

  Once she was seated, he stripped off his cloak and wrapped it around her.

  “Can you hold the front closed?” he asked.

  Her exhausted eyes seemed to clear, and she looked up at him. “What about you? Won’t you be cold without your cloak?”

  “I’ll be fine, my lady. Old soldiers like me don’t get cold.”

  Still mounted, Jan wondered what to do—what he would be allowed to do. Slowly, he swung his leg over and dismounted, standing beside the horse.

  Another soldier, this on
e younger with a pockmarked face, walked by Cullen and Gisele, and his lips curled back into a sneer. “I wouldn’t waste my cloak on a faithless strumpet, Sergeant, and the lieutenant won’t thank you for it.”

  Cullen turned quickly and his eyes narrowed. Just as fast, a third soldier—this one tall with broad shoulders and dark hair—strode at the one who’d spoken.

  “Close your mouth, Günter,” he snapped, “or I’ll break it! And get away from her.”

  The pockmarked one opened his mouth but thought better of any retort and walked away.

  The dark-haired soldier leaned down. “Forgive me, my lady. I’ll not let you hear such words again.”

  Gisele met his gaze. “Thank you, Corporal Rowan, but do not trouble yourself. I have no wish for you displease my husband. Cullen already risks himself enough.”

  Rowan straightened, glowered in Braden’s direction, and then walked off to help gather firewood.

  Suddenly… Jan realized there was a dissention in the ranks here. Some of the men were loyal to Lady Gisele and angry at the treatment she was receiving. It took him a moment to absorb this, but it made some sense. As a lieutenant for Prince Rodêk during the civil dispute, Braeden had probably been away from home a good deal, and Gisele had shown herself to be kind. Some of these men had to have been guarding Braeden’s family manor and probably dealt more with her in recent years than with him. She was their “lady”—theirs to protect.

  There were also soldiers here like that Günter, who walked by and cast Gisele looks of contempt and disgust. They had likely been afield with their lieutenant and, like him, considered her a “faithless strumpet” for having run off.

  Jan’s thoughts began racing again as he stored all of this away until he could think of a way to use it. Could he play one side against the other? As of yet, he didn’t see how, but he couldn’t continue to simply stand here, and he caught Sergeant Cullen’s eye.

  “May I sit?” he asked, motioning to the stump.

  Cullen frowned, and Jan couldn’t help noticing how well trimmed the man kept his graying beard. He was particular about appearances. Finally, Cullen nodded and pointed to the far side of the stump.

  “Over here. Well away from my lady.”

  “Could you get me a drink of water?” Gisele asked him.

  Cullen glanced once at Jan but appeared to decide there was nowhere to run—or at least not to get far. “Of course. I’ll be right back.” He headed toward the horses.

  With a sigh, Jan walked over to the stump and sat down.

  “Thank you,” he told Gisele. He had a feeling that she’d sent Cullen off on purpose.

  Gisele didn’t answer, and Jan sighed again.

  “I’m sorry about this,” he said. “You must believe me. I’d never have turned you back over to… him, but he was threatening… my people, my family.”

  Still, she didn’t speak. Perhaps she was wondering why he made apologies and spoke of his family. Did she still believe he was mad with love for her? The thought filled him with guilt. Then again, why would she think anything else? He hadn’t told her the truth.

  “I know,” she whispered, her head tilted forward so that her red-gold hair covered half her face.

  “You know?” he repeated, confused.

  “Your aunt told me today was to be your wedding day… to that girl, the tall one.”

  Jan said nothing. What could he say?

  “So it’s true?” she asked, “What my husband told me? You played me for a fool, tricked me into agreeing to go with you, only so could you threaten to humiliate him? To make him let you go?”

  “I was desperate. I never would have hurt you.”

  “You let him hurt me instead… and still I didn’t care. I thought someone loved me, wanted me.”

  His stomach clenched, and a part of him wanted to walk away. He had no wish to sit here and listen to an account of his sins. Somehow, he stayed. She deserved that much.

  “I’d have done something else, anything else, if I could have,” he said.

  She didn’t respond.

  “In my case, it was all for nothing anyway,” he added. “Your husband plans to hang me. I don’t think he’ll go that far with you.”

  “With me?” She looked up and her hair fell back so he could see her face. “No, he wants to hide that this ever happened. No one besides these nine soldiers will ever know where he went or why. He wants his lady to grace his table and play hostess to his guests. I won’t be hanged or quietly strangled in some back room. He won’t release me with death. He’ll punish me in his own good time.”

  When no answer worth speaking came to Jan, he leaned over and put his face in his hands.

  · · · · ·

  Julianna rode directly behind Zupan Cadell all afternoon with the others in their group behind her. They passed through several villages but didn’t slow once. By nightfall, Julianna expected to make camp. Instead, Cadell slowed his mount and looked over his shoulder.

  “Rico, you take the lead.”

  Julianna pulled up her horse—a good-natured bay gelding—while Rico rode past and to the front, and they continued west. Strangely, she wasn’t even tired, and now that they were going after Jan, she didn’t want to stop. She just wanted him back.

  Soon, she lost track of time as the night grew darker and darker.

  Without warning, Rico held up one hand as he pulled in his mount. His body was rigid as he stared straight ahead.

  “Off the road,” he said.

  All seven of them steered their horses into the trees on the road’s north side, and Julianna waited to see what would happen next. Everyone began to dismount, so she did too, realizing how stiff her body had become only after her feet touched the ground.

  Rico pulled off his shirt and handed it to his father. “I’ll find their camp. I won’t be long.”

  Without another word, he vanished into the forest.

  Julianna knew why he’d removed his shirt and suspected that he’d waited to transform due to her presence. Once he was alone, he’d finish undressing and shift into a great cat with a much stronger sense of smell and hearing—and greater speed.

  Guardsman Klayton asked, “What now?”

  “Set up camp,” Cadell answered. “Rico will locate their position, but we won’t take action tonight. We’re still too close to Chemestúk.”

  “How long is the journey to Enêmûsk?” Julianna asked.

  Cadell patted her arm once. “At least three days. Don’t worry. We have time.”

  Disappointed, she nodded. She’d thought they would have Jan back by tonight, but the wiser part of her knew Cadell was right. Saving Jan was going to involve shedding Äntes blood, and any bodies found later could not be connected to the vassal of Chemestúk Keep. Cadell was responsible for the welfare of five fiefdoms, and before his appointment, many peasants had suffered from neglect and from having no one to speak for them.

  Cadell was too essential to lose.

  Ever skilled at accepting the situation at hand, Julianna turned to helping with camp. While Klayton and Guardsman Sawyer saw to the horses, Guardsman Logan began collecting firewood. She and Rosario dug through the packs to try and put together some dinner. They hadn’t even finished when Rico reappeared from trees, slipping into camp wearing his pants and carrying his boots. He pointed west.

  “They’ve made camp on the other side of the road. Most are asleep with only two on watch.”

  Cadell nodded. “Good. They’ll probably do the same tomorrow night.”

  “What if they stay in a village instead?” Julianna asked.

  “They won’t. Braeden wants to keep all of this a secret, at least the part concerning Gisele. He won’t risk some innkeeper asking questions or spreading rumors about a lieutenant tracking down his runaway wife.”

  “Did you see Jan?” she asked Rico.

  “Yes, he seems well, but now his feet are tied as well as his hands.”

  No one else said anything and, with little else to d
o, Julianna turned back to breaking out supplies while Rosario and Cadell moved away to pick a spot for a small campfire. Rico crouched beside Julianna.

  “You can’t blame Jan for being what he is,” he said suddenly, catching her off guard.

  Blinking a few times, she stared into his face. His features were so much Jan’s, and yet… he didn’t look like Jan. There was no humor in his face, no charm; it was locked in a perpetually serious state.

  She suddenly became aware that all the others in the camp were either too busy or too far away to hear anything she and Rico might say to each other.

  “I don’t blame him,” she whispered back, feeling defensive.

  Rico studied her with his black eyes. “I picked Lydia because she is the only woman I’ve met who will never expect me to be anything other than what I am. She will not wake up in a year or two and expect me to be a man who laughs or to engage in long talks about feelings.”

  These last words made Julianna realize that in the time she’d known Rico—over three moons—he and she had never talked before. He must want to express something quite badly.

  “Jan will always turn the heads and hearts of women,” he continued. “It means little to him now, but it is part of who he is. He cannot help it.”

  Julianna dropped her gaze. “I want a husband, Rico. I don’t want a prize that I’m going to have to defend or fight for again and again.”

  “I’m a year older than him and I’ve known him since he was born,” he said softly. “I’ve seen him with other women, and I’ve seen him with you.”

  Rico somehow lowered his head in his crouch, staring at her as if the cat within now watched her.

  “You’ll never have to fight anyone for him,” he murmured. “And he will never give you a reason to do so.”

  Without knowing why, Julianna gripped the fingers of his hand dangling over one bent knee, and she held them hard.

  · · · · ·

  The following late afternoon, during the long day’s ride, Jan let his gaze drop to his horse’s mane as he let his mind drift. Between last night and today, he’d noted some things regarding the nine Äntes soldiers with Braeden.

  Four of them appeared loyal to Giselle and unhappy with the treatment she was receiving. Sergeant Cullen and Corporal Rowan were the only ones openly attempting to care for—and protect— her as best they could without offending Braeden. But Jan was good at reading faces, and two other men made no secret of their discomfort with their weary lady being treated like a prisoner on a forced ride… wearing nothing but a nightgown and a loaned cloak.