Cinderella and the Colonel (20 page)

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Authors: K.M. Shea

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BOOK: Cinderella and the Colonel
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Cinderella stood
, gathering her basket from its position next to the settee. “Even so, I haven’t the time to slack. I should return to the market.”


Have you told the Colonel?”

“About Julien?”

“No, about Aveyron being paid off.”

“Not yet
. I was hoping to do so soon.”

“Good. I
would also mention your settlement with Julien, if I were you,” Marie said.

“Why
?”

“Colonel Friedrich strikes me as the…jealous type.”

“He once said something similar. I failed to understand what he meant then, just as I fail to understand your allusion right now,” Cinderella said, tilting her head.

Marie sighed. “You can bet somehow he will hear about the hour you and Julien spent walk
ing, arm in arm, laughing and having an earnest conversation. It will soothe him to hear of the conversation from your lips.”

“If you say so
,” Cinderella doubtfully said. “I’m not certain I’ll be able to see him today, though. It is the day of the Victory Ball. Much of the Army has either been invited to the party, or will be guarding it.”

“He will
have enough time to talk to you. I promise it,” Marie said.

“I suppose I could stop in the First Regiment
’s camp before I return to the market,” Cinderella said.

“Do so
,” Marie said, escorting her to the door. “I am happy for you, Cinderella. You are doing well.”

“Thank you.”

“Best wishes in your encounter with the Colonel.”


I will need it. Farewell,” Cinderella said, embracing her friend before traipsing down the stairs. She set off at a quick walk, humming under her breath as she trekked across Werra.

She walked down
small streets, winding through one of the few residential parts of the city. Houses were smashed against each other like fish packed in a crate, but the occupants seemed happy. Housewives met to gossip while doing the day’s wash; children played together in the streets, and a few grandmothers crowded on someone’s porch, mending and darning clothes.

It
was mostly Trieux folk who lived in this part of the city, but Cinderella knew three streets up was an Erlauf neighborhood. “I wonder if it looks at all different,” Cinderella said, turning around to look back down the street.

That
was how she caught sight of her tail—a bland, harmless looking man. He hadn’t the blonde hair of a Trieux, nor did he have the dark hair of a man from Erlauf. He looked watery, with weedy hair and abnormally dark eyes. The oddest thing about him was his long, black cape and cowl. Fall would soon begin, but the weather was still hot, and the sun shone with enough intensity to make Cinderella sweat.

He stared at her
, not bothering to hide his fixed gaze. He moved his arms, pushing back his cloak. Black jewels and rat pelts hung from a chain that swooped across his chest. As he watched Cinderella, he unhooked a black jewel and held it in a fist. He spoke to it, and black vapor rose from his hand.

A chill c
rawled up Cinderella’s spine, and the necklace Friedrich gave her turned as cold as ice.

 

 

Chapter 13

Her instincts kicked in, and Cinderella started running. She shot up the street like a rabbit, shooting between a swarm of playing children and dodging around carts, horses, chickens, and geese.

As she turned a corner
, she glanced over her shoulder.

The man in the black cape wasn’t mov
ing, but he was less than a block behind her. It was as if instead of running, he was moved to whatever location he desired.

Cinderella ran into another habited neighborhood
, casting a terrified gaze around the streets. Where were her guards? Did they not follow her in the city? Cinderella generally didn’t bother to look for them when off Aveyron lands.

The First Regiment camp
was too far away for Cinderella to reach before the black magic user caught her. She didn’t want to leave public sight—but she didn’t want to drag any helpless innocents into the fight either.

“Patrol point
,” Cinderella huffed, skidding as she planted her feet and started running in a different direction. If Cinderella could reach a central patrol point—where all patrols for the area started and ended—there would be over a dozen soldiers stationed there.

Bless the A
rmy for increased patrols, and bless me for memorizing their routes for library trips,
Cinderella thought, risking another glance over her shoulder.

The tail
was behind her, but on the corner she just skirted. He looked in several directions, searching for her.

Cinderella vaulted into an empty wagon tied in front of a house
, and wriggled beneath a bundle of burlap sacks.

She held her breath and prayed her pound
ing heart wouldn’t reveal her as the black mage walked up the street, moving bonelessly.

His eyes skipped
over the wagon, and Cinderella gasped in air when the mage was one street up.

Whatever his magic skills are, they don’t include tracking
, Cinderella thought as she slithered out of wagon.
All the same, I should head to the patrol point and send word to Friedrich.

Somewhere in all the runn
ing, Cinderella wound up in the Erlauf neighborhood. Her red hair stuck out among the fair, straw-haired Trieux peasants, but it was more of a flaming beacon among the small scattering of dark-haired Erlauf commoners who walked the streets.

Cinderella crouched low to the ground to minimize the possibility of be
ing sighted and crept along the houses, ignoring the odd looks from the few commoners on the street.

She crouched behind a
cluster of barrels and winced. Something cold pressed against the skin of her chest. Cinderella realized it was the dragon necklace Friedrich gave her when he first presented her to her soldiers. She tried to dig it out from under her dress, for it felt like a chunk of ice freezing to her skin, when she heard crying.

Down the street came the black magic user
, dragging an Erlauf woman behind him by her glossy brown hair-braid.

The woman
sobbed, her face twisted in pain. “Please, let me go,” she whimpered.

The necklace forgotten,
Cinderella peered at those in the streets. They would help the poor woman, wouldn’t they?

The street walkers
were statue still, as if carved out of colorful chunks of stone. They didn’t blink, and they didn’t move, even when the black mage clenched a dirty hand around the young woman’s throat.

The woman struggled
, clawing at the mage’s hand. She gurgled and coughed as life was choked from her.

If I jump him
, he will kill me
, Cinderella thought.
But if I don’t, he will kill her. An Erlauf woman
.

The black mage turned
, looking up and down the street. He was waiting for her. When Cinderella didn’t appear, the mage’s fist encased with black vapor, and the woman’s frantic thrashings became more like the twitches of a dying animal.

The smell of burnt flesh filled the street.

Cinderella grimaced, and when the black mage turned his back to her, she pushed her way up a narrow stairway that led to the second floor of the shanty she was pressed against.

The black mage lifted the woman off her feet and held her high above his head
, showing off his prize.

The commoners on the street didn’t react
, and everything was still—except for the dying woman.

The black magic user lowered the woman—although he kept his hands fastened around her neck.

She choked, her eyes rolling back as she convulsed, almost dead.

The black mage looked down at the near
ly dead woman in undisguised pleasure, so he did not see Cinderella when she flung herself off the roof of the house directly next to him.

Cinderella landed on the mage with enough force to knock him to the ground. Sitt
ing on top of him, Cinderella grabbed him by the throat of his cloak. She slammed his head into the ground two times before he blasted her with his dark magic, sending her careening into the front door of a house.

Cinderella
was up in an instant, even though her ears rang and her sight was fuzzy. If she stayed down she would die. “HELP!” she shouted, her voice loud but shaky.

The near
ly strangled woman was frozen like the others. As Cinderella grabbed a pitchfork leaning against the house, she glanced at the woman long enough to be assured she was breathing.

Cinderella charged the mage with the pitchfork. The mage—
who seemed to take an abnormally long time to move—barely slithered aside in time to avoid being stabbed. He grabbed hold of the pitchfork—which Cinderella easily released—and tossed it away.

Cinderella
had already armed herself with a wooden bucket when the mage turned back to her. She swung the bucket at the mage and clocked him in the skull.

“HELP!”
Cinderella screamed again before winding the bucket back for another pass.

The mage shot a stream of his vaporous magic at her. Cinderella dodged
, but it brushed her bucket and disintegrated it.

Cinderella tossed the remain
ing piece of the bucket—the rope handle—away and groped for another weapon. She found a hoe, but the mage bore down on her.

He blasted her with another wave of magic
, sending her crashing into the wagon she previously hid in.

Her head loll
ing, Cinderella groaned in pain. She struggled to keep her eyes open long enough to watch the mage glide towards her, his skeletal hands extended like claws.

He
was almost to her when an arrow pierced his shoulder. He made a choking gasp—the first noise he made since the pursuit started—and the black vapor cloaking his hands disappeared.

“N-no
,” he muttered, staring at his dirty fingers

Three Erlauf soldiers
were on him in an instant. Two secured his arms and a third smacked what looked like a seal drawn on a piece of parchment on the mage’s chest.

The paper clung to the mage’s clothes
, and the mage howled. “No!”

The mage thrashed
, but the soldiers secured his legs and arms with shackles.

“I apologize
, Your Grace; we were nearly too late,” Ivo said, helping Cinderella stand.

The other two soldiers
held the mage in place and smacked him with more paper seals.

“Hold him still. I want this arrow out whole
,” one of the soldiers said to the other before yanking the arrow out of the mage.

The mage howled and dripped black blood on the street as the soldier nodded in sati
sfaction.

“Perfect
,” the soldier said, wiping the arrow clean before sliding it the quiver hanging from his back.

By this time
, the people on the streets started to move again. Several of them rushed to help the wounded woman. They crouched by her side, bunching around her like a flock of birds.

“Ivo
, I have never been so glad to see you,” Cinderella said as the gruff soldier steadied her.

“Thank you
, Your Grace,” Ivo said before turning to his squad mates. “We need to get that animal into custody and take Lady Lacreux to the regiment camp immediately.”

“I’ll signal another squad
,” the soldier with the quiver said as he retrieved his bow from the street. He moved up the road, blowing a silver whistle attached to his uniform.

“Br
ing a physician, too,” the soldier restraining the mage said.


And get back fast,” Ivo called after him. “I want this scum out of Her Ladyship’s presence.”


Do you need a hand?” an Erlauf man said. His voice was deep, and he was about as wide as an ox. He held the pitchfork Cinderella used to try and stab the mage, but he held it with ease and dexterity as he eyed the mage.

Ivo nodded in the direction of the woman. “How is she?”

The man planted the pitchfork and leaned on it. It creaked in distress under his weight as he said, “Alive. Her throat looks burned, but she’s breathin’ fine.”

Ivo nodded.

Cinderella blinked to clear her vision. “Good. I thought I was too late.”

“It
was smart, to get the height advantage,” the soldier holding the mage said.

“Thank you
,” Cinderella weakly smiled.

“I do not think the Colonel will approve of you
r engaging the enemy,” Ivo said.

Cinderella pointed her head skyward. “
I agree. But Friedrich rarely approves of my actions the way it is.”

“You helped her
, lady?” the ox man said, squinting at Cinderella.

“Yes
,” Cinderella said. “Ivo, I believe I can stand on my own, thank you.”

“Why?” the ox ma
n asked.

“Why what?”

“Why did you help her?”

Cinderella f
rowned. “Why wouldn’t I?”

“To save yourself.”

“Well, yes, but I couldn’t just leave her to die,” Cinderella said, gingerly touching the back of her head. “What?” she said when the ox man stared at her.

“You’re from Trieux.”

“Yes.”

The ox man shook his head. He opened his mouth
, but before he could further inquire, Ivo interrupted him. “I hear the whistle. Tobias is on his way back,” Ivo said, stepping to help the other soldier, who was anchoring the squirming, bleeding mage in place.

“You’ve
lost, mage. Save your strength,” the other soldier said, shaking the mage like a terrier shaking a rat.

“You and every
pest like you that approaches the lady will be crushed,” Ivo growled.

The mage
laughed, a horrible noise raspy and wet with blood. “
I
have lost,” he said with a whispering hiss. “But
we
will not fail. Trieux and Erlauf will be torn asunder. And then they will fester and rot, smothered by their own bitterness and hatred. You all will
die
,”

“What
,” Cinderella said, “are you talking about?”

“Do not engage in conversation with him
, Your Grace,” Ivo said.

“Erlauf and Trieux will
remain divided, and darkness thrives in division. We will come for you, and this will be our homeland—a land of all things vile and powerful.”

“Division
, you say?” Cinderella asked, taking a step closer.

“Your Grace
,” Ivo pleaded.

Cinderella ignored him. Her gray eyes raged like hurricanes
, hypnotic and
furious
. “You are lying.”

The mage laughed. “Look to your people! Look to those of Erlauf. You think I am the first to try and kill you? The others didn’t even
have magic. Trieux hates Erlauf, and Erlauf hates Trieux. It plays out in your very life. Do you really think that will ever change? War has filled your hearts with hatred. Hatred takes root, and never fails to destroy those who nurture it in their hearts. You are
doomed
,” the mage broke off.

Cinderella stood tall. The strength of her presence
made the mage shift in place. “No,” she said. “If you think I will allow
your
kind in my country, in Erlauf, you are sorely mistaken.”

“You can do noth
ing,” the mage protested.

“Real
ly,” Cinderella said, her accent more noble and royal than usual. “Is
that
why you were trying to kill me?”

The mage fell silent.

“There’s Tobias,” Ivo said, nodding down the street. “ Good. He has an entire squad with him.”

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