The Runaway Queen, A Fire and Fury Prequel Novella Page 2

  “What are you talking about, you stupid woman? I ride every day,” Colestus said, his jealous expression shifting from Rosamund to Hardwin, trying to gauge the nature of the relationship.

  “Of course.” Rosamund tried to smile and make light of his insult. “We must just miss each other, My Liege.”

  “Obviously.”

  Colestus walked toward her fingering his riding gloves. When he got close, he tucked them in his belt. He cocked his head and analyzed her with slit eyes, like cracks in a rock, even sniffing her. Colestus leveled hard stares from Rosamund to Hardwin and back again. He lifted his hand to scratch his chin, but then raised it across the front of his body and leveled a back-handed punch to her left cheek. The force of the blow sent her spiraling to the ground, her face in the straw, staring at the horse’s front hooves as the pungent scent of manure rushed up her nostrils.

  “My Queen!” Hardwin exclaimed, lurching forward.

  “Stay where you are, stable hand,” Colestus raised his hand in warning. “Let her writhe in her shame. She has dishonored me.”

  “How have I dishonored you?” Rosamund uttered a mangled protest, her face stained with mud and tears, as she turned over and looked up at him.

  “You reject me and do things without my permission,” he said blandly. He towered over her with arms folded across his chest, a smirk on his face while he paced through the straw.

  “How am I supposed to ask permission to do anything if you’re nowhere to be found?” Rosamund asked.

  “Just stay in the castle and do my bidding, you damn wench,” he seethed and shook his head in disgust.

  “And you.” The king shot Hardwin a look of loathing and pointed at him. “You’re lucky you still have a job. Never take her riding again.”

  Hardwin nodded in shocked assent.

  Colestus assessed the damage done, nodded, and walked toward the door. The stable master appeared, saw the queen sprawled on the floor, his mouth agape in surprise. He quickly rearranged his features as the king approached and they began talking about tomorrow’s hunt.

  When they were gone and out of earshot, Hardwin ran to Rosamund and pulled her into an empty stall.

  “You must take your leave before he kills you,” he whispered frantically.

  “It’s getting worse, Hardwin,” she said, rubbing her cheek gingerly. “I never thought he’d stoop to abusing me in public. I’ve dreamed about leaving for years, but I don’t see how. I will not put anyone in danger.”

  “You won’t get out if you don’t have help. Now, listen to me, my mind has been working out a plan for ages, ever since I first noticed. . .” he gulped uncomfortably, “that he lays in his hands on you. I have a brother who lives in Chilldenn. It’s far from here, but I could take you there. There is another small village even deeper in the country called Coldfield; it has a sunken meadow that gets so cold in the winter that if a man happens into it and can’t find his way out, he’ll die, for it’s almost always shrouded in mist. There are many a bone in that field,” he said with an eerie tenor to his voice that made Rosamund shiver.

  “I’d much rather find a way into Asterias,” she said, shaking her head. “I’ve heard King George Edward is fair and often shelters exiles. Perhaps he might enjoy the thought of giving sanctuary to Colestus’s fugitive.”

  “King Colestus will look for you there. He will put his army on alert to watch for you. I don’t believe he,” Hardwin gestured with his head toward the door, his mouth curved in distaste, “would think to look for you in such a difficult place to live. He would not think you such a hardy soul. My brother and I might be suspected, so you would have to travel the last leg of the journey yourself. Along the way, you can tell people you’re trying to find your twin sister.”

  “My twin sister?” Rosamund said, incredulous. “I can’t lie.”

  “From now on, you lie about everything. It’s the only thing that’s going to keep you alive. You understand?” Hardwin said emphatically, pointing a finger at her as if she were a child. “You’re going to have to have a believable story, anyway. That will throw them off,” he nodded in satisfaction. “The two of you were separated at birth, but you heard rumors that she might be in this little village. You’re alone because you’d survived an attack by bandits and escaped. People will be more willing to help and be less suspicious if they feel sorry for you. You’ll have to dress like a commoner, but have plenty of coin tucked away. . .” His mind was moving fast, his words a deluge of possibilities for what had always seemed impossible. “Will you do it?”

  Rosamund pressed her lips together and furrowed her brows, thinking, but then nodded her head. “I’ll agree if I know for a surety that you and Lady Alimaida will be safe from Colestus in the aftermath. You are the ones he will try to track down first. You must get your family far away from here, Hardwin,” she said, pointing a finger at his chest. “They are too important to me. I could not live with death on my conscience. I suppose Lady Alimaida will have to smuggle a disguise into the castle. . .”

  “My wife can help with that. She’s always got extra fabric lying around.”

  “Colestus prefers fabric made by her, so it would not be a difficult task to add an extra bundle under bolts for the king. I don’t think the servants who unload the goods would ever notice. And I guess I’ll have to steal from the royal treasury.” Rosamund had to suppress a wicked grin. “It’s not as if Colestus will miss it. And it can’t happen too soon! It would raise too much suspicion. I would say in a month, at the beginning of autumn, when Colestus takes his annual boar hunting trip with the nobles.”

  Hardwin gave her a squinty nod of approval. “Let us both make preparations then, My Queen. I’ve watched your louse of a husband,” he said, peering around the corner of the stall to make sure the king was still out of sight. “He doesn’t pay any attention to when you ride. If we plan around his schedule, he would never know if we went riding again, unless he told his steward or the stable master to enforce his will. I believe that’s the only chance we will have to plan for your escape.”

  “All he cares about is the hunt.”

  “My point precisely.”

  Chapter 3

  On top of the tall, lonely crag, a garden nestled in front of the grand entrance of the Edmiran castle, between the gatehouse and watchtowers. Though small by royal standards, it had a spectacular view of the countryside from every angle. Rosamund strolled with Lady through the grass dotted with footstones, benches, a few bushes and trees. The trees burst with all the colors of fall and it was a delight to spend it in the warmth of the sun with her lady and friend with whom she’d grown up. Ten years older, Lady Alimaida was the daughter of her father’s steward and Rosamund had always looked up to her. She couldn’t believe that Lady Alimaida had forsaken an engagement to an earl and chose to live with her in the castle instead. Lady Alimaida and Hardwin were more loyal than she deserved.

  “I’m surprised your new ladies-in-waiting are not out here with us, following close enough to catch a refrain,” Lady Alimaida said of the new women assigned by the king to tend Rosamund. “Although I’d watch for them hiding behind the pillars of that corridor.”

  “Do you think they suspect anything?” Rosamund asked, putting her hand in the crook of Lady Alimaida’s arm, her voice low. “Did anyone see you take the bundle out of the bottom of the cart when the bolts of fabric arrived?”

  “Impossible,” Lady Alimaida scoffed and smiled, patting her hand. “How could anyone see anything under these skirts?”

  “You make a fine point,” Rosamund said as she eyed Lady Alimaida’s clothing. She wore a plain dress of linen that widened as it fell to her feet. Long-sleeved and form-fitting in the bodice, Lady Alimaida tied a sash around her waist that allowed her to truss up the extra fabric that gathered around her hips and at her feet. She covered her head with a shawl that she wrapped around her neck and shoulders. It was held in place with a ribbon tied around her head, jewels dangling and tinkling from it.
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  “I’ve hidden the dress and cloak that Hardwin’s wife made for you in my trunk and locked it. I put the key on my chain and always wear it around my neck. I’ve not had a chance to look at it yet, but I think it will fit you fine. She’s made gowns for you before. What about the gold and coin? Have you had the nerve to approach Colestus’s steward?”

  “The remarkable thing about being underestimated is that no one thinks me capable of stealing,” Rosamund said circumspectly, but then she smiled slyly. “I told Guerra that I would need extra money for the Autumn Festival that I would attend while Colestus was boar hunting. I told him I needed more than usual because I planned to give coins to the needy. In fact, I’ve used that ploy before and have saved it all.”

  Lady Alimaida nodded, thinking. “I’ve got to get my own things ready, although I won’t take but what I can carry. Hardwin has moved his family into Carannan, an Asterian village on the border. From what he tells me, the villagers are happy to have a fabric dyer in town . . . And they’ve all fallen in love with his girls. I pray to the Goddess they keep their mouths shut about the newcomers. When he’s done escorting you into the wilds, he will take me with him to the village, but our timing will have to be perfect. This boar hunt could not have come at a better time. The hard part of this plan is getting out of the castle and down the High Castle Road. I will have to have a very good excuse. We will eventually travel deeper into Asterias, far away from Colestus. He’d have to wage a war to track us down and get us back.”

  “Don’t be surprised if he does just that,” Rosamund said quite seriously. “He’s a hard man who is used to having his way. I can’t decide if he will be relieved that I’m gone, annul the marriage, and find someone more suitable for him, or if he’ll go into a rage because I’ve betrayed him and hunt me down.”

  “It is hard to guess,” Lady Alimaida agreed. “Strangely, he doesn’t seem to have noticed that you’ve started riding again.”

  “He never said I couldn’t ride and he hasn’t said a thing to anyone who would prevent me from doing so. Hardwin has disobeyed his king and has come with me a few times and we have taken advantage of that to make our plans. He’s hired bandits to attack the guards so we can get away. Great Goddesses Above,” Rosamund sighed deeply, trying to swallow her fear. “If I survive, it will be the greatest adventure of my life.”

  “You always did want to be the fastest horse in the pen. Now, you’ll get your chance,” Lady Alimaida said as she stopped and turned toward Rosamund, facing her. She pulled her into a tight hug that lasted perhaps longer than it should have and she could hear her friend sniffling, trying to hold back her tears. Rosamund hoped no one was watching. They’d wonder why she was so emotional. “I’ll miss you.”

  “I’ll miss you, too,” Rosamund said, tears welling, her voice tremulous. “What will I do without you?”

  “You will learn to live, which has always been my greatest wish for you.”

  “I will learn quickly. Colestus leaves tomorrow.”

  ***

  “Where to today, My Queen?” one of the guards asked the queen as they rode out from under the thick canopy of trees of the High Castle Road.

  Rosamund glanced at Hardwin, who gave her an almost imperceptible nod.

  “Let us ride along the shore of Lake Sugunia today. There is a meadow on the other side where we can rest the horses.”

  “So far, My Queen?” he asked, genuine concern creasing his young face. “Are you sure you can muster the energy for such a long ride?”

  Rosamund gave him a tight-lipped smile. “I can assure you, I have endurance enough,” she huffed with the condescension of a queen, hoping the two guards would keep their distance. Hardwin had told her that arrows would fly today, and she didn’t want to make herself a target.

  Rebuffed and flushed with embarrassment, the young guard slowed his horse and rode a little farther behind her alongside the other guard. Rosamund couldn’t believe their luck as she loosened the reins and clicked her tongue to signal her horse to ride faster. She’d never seen these guards before. Perhaps they were new to the king’s guard or the other men in the unit were tired of accompanying their queen on her tedious rides through the countryside.

  Poor boys, Rosamund thought. They will curse their queen for their scrapes and scratches tonight. Hardwin had promised a scuffle so that they could escape during the distraction.

  The guards led the way into the expansive meadow and hobbled their horses not far from Rosamund and Hardwin. They pulled food wrapped in cloth bundles out of their saddlebags, found grassy mounds to sit on, and leaned their backs against the trunks of trees that bordered the meadow. One of the guards even closed his eyes and raised his face toward the sun.

  Rosamund was about to dismount and lead her horse to water when Hardwin stopped her.

  “Not yet, My Queen,” he whispered. “I think it will not be long.”

  “But the horses need water,” she insisted.

  “They’ll be fine. We’ve got to get out of here first.”

  Rosamund sat on her horse in silence, the animal grazing on the thick grass. She gazed around the meadow, absorbing everything. Still quite warm for early autumn, the insects hummed all around her, late-blooming wildflowers bent their heads in the breeze, and water gurgled nearby. It was hot enough that she could see bands of heat waving near the ground in the distance.

  “Who are they?” Rosamund asked, trying to find something out of the ordinary, some sign of the culprits who would create the diversion they needed to escape.

  “Just ruffians looking to thumb their noses at the king. They were plenty happy to accept your money,” Hardwin assured her.

  Before long, Rosamund heard the twanging of arrows released and the whizzing of them through the air. She set her sights on the guards; they scurried away from arrows in the ground that had barely missed them and were running toward their horses.

  “Follow me!” Hardwin yelled, his mouth set in a grim line. “Yah!” he shouted to his horse, kicked its ribs, and slapped his horse’s neck with the reins. Rosamund’s horse was stunned by the chaos, reared, and tried to throw her off. Once Rosamund calmed her down, Merry quickly caught up to Hardwin.

  The guards mounted and sped up, even managed to get close to her and Hardwin in the rain of arrows. An arrow whirred by just missing her head, but hit one of the guards and he fell from his horse. The other guard, who was on the opposite side of her, abruptly twisted his mount to check on his comrade. Rosamund dared to glance back. He jumped from his horse and bent down to examine his friend, then threw his head back in anger and roared at the sight of blood blossoming on the fallen guard’s chest.

  The horses’ hooves clattered loudly on loose rocks, kicking them up as their powerful necks and legs strained to run at breakneck speed. Hardwin was relentless, whipping and spurring the horses. They flew up a scraggy canyon through scrub, gorse, and stunted trees with the guard in close pursuit. Scratches stung her flesh from branches whipping as she rode by, but Rosamund hardly noticed. Nothing would stop her from escaping now. She’d come too far. If somehow she got sent back to Colestus, there was no doubt in her mind, he’d kill her. She may as well ride her horse over a cliff. The result would be the same.

  Suddenly, the guard was right alongside Hardwin and pulled him from his mount. Both fell to the ground, tumbling on rocks and through bushes, missing the trees. At the bottom of a ravine, they stopped rolling and faced each other for battle. Scrambling for weapons that got lost in the fall, they crouched and circled each other like angry bears prowling in a circle. The guard grabbed a thick, sturdy branch and swung it menacingly at Hardwin, who ducked and backed away. Tiring of the routine, Hardwin caught the branch. Somehow, it caught the guard’s arm at an awkward angle. When Hardwin realized his luck, he twisted the branch and broke his arm. The guard squealed in pain, cradling his wounded arm. Hardwin had no pity. He charged him and slammed his back into a tree.

  “Hardwin! Stop now! I command it,”
Rosamund shouted from the top of the ravine, realizing he would beat the guard to death. This was not supposed to happen! Hardwin had instructed the archers to capture the guards and tie them up at the meadow. The guard’s head already lolled to the side, as if he were unconscious. “He’s just a boy.”

  “He doesn’t care,” Hardwin said, panting, clutching the guard by the shoulder and examined his face, holding his chin up. “He’d kill me if he could, wouldn’t you, pup? King Colestus’s little lap dog,” he said, his voice filled with loathing as he slammed another devastating blow to the abdomen. The guard doubled over, coughing. “And he’d just as soon hand you over to the gaoler as the king. Let me keep my vow to you.”

  Without warning, the guard somehow found the strength to kick Hardwin in the stomach, which made him fall backward to the ground. Hardwin rebounded and kneed him the groin, punched him in the face, and kept slamming his head against the tree until it was a bloody pulp inside his helmet. Hardwin screwed his face up in disgust and pushed the body to the ground. Rosamund hadn’t wanted to watch, but could hardly turn away. In tears, she had hoped, even prayed, that no one would come to injury during her escape, a naïve wish in the first place and too much to ask. This poor boy was doing his job and volunteered for the wrong post today. Sadly, it was his life or hers. Hardwin would never allow her to die.

  “Things never go as you think they will,” Hardwin grumbled, hefting the body of the soldier over his horse. “I’ll take this one back to the meadow. There will be more guards looking for these two whelps when they don’t return. I’ll also need your cloak.”

  “Why?” Rosamund instinctively pulled it closer to her body, not wanting to give it up. It had shielded her from more cruel injuries.

  “When the king hears the news, which won’t be for a few days, I want him to suspect a kidnapping gone wrong, rather than an escape attempt. He needs to believe you’ve been injured, maybe even killed in the process. A beat-up, bloody cloak will do it. He’ll be less likely to send out search parties if he thinks you’re dead,” Hardwin said, unwilling to look her in the eye as he walked to her horse and took the cloak. “You’ll have to find a place to hide until I get back. Can you manage that?”