Shadows: Book One of the Eligia Shala (28 page)

Captain Tessier and Captain Manvi were both standing there, watching her: Manvi with amusement; Tessier hovering somewhere between anger and satisfaction.

“I told you, Captain!” Simon protested. “But you wouldn’t listen.”

“She never bloody listens,” Sasha growled.

Jenevra merely glared darkly at them, biting on her lip as Captain Tessier came towards her.

“Apparently, Captain Couressime, I’m not quite as incapable of finding things as you would like to think,” he snapped. “And now that we’ve found you, you’ll be accompanying us back to the Emperor’s tent. It’s a shame, really. I rather thought you’d last a little longer than this.” He stood in front of her, his arms folded, until she wondered what he was waiting for and looked up at him, a mutinous frown on her face. A cold smile appeared on Tessier’s face as she met his gaze; as if he felt he’d won some sort of battle. “Your hands, Captain.” Tessier held his hand out, snapping his fingers at her. “Tie their hands too,” he ordered the men holding Simon and Sasha. “As they’re all so fond of running, they can run back to the camp with us.” Ignoring Mikyle Manvi’s warning glance, Captain Tessier bound Jenevra’s wrists tightly on top of each other and pulled her across the small plateau towards the horses. From his saddle he reached down and hoisted her up across in front of him. Leaning down towards his stirrup where her head was, he said softly, “I might not be able to find my own backside, Princess, but I’ll be enjoying yours all the way back to camp.”

Slapping her sharply on the bottom, one hand remaining on the small of her back, holding her in place; he nudged his horse into a steady trot down the mountain path, a genuine smile finally breaking through as he heard her swearing sulfurously at him.

Luckily for Captain Tessier, most of the comments he made on the ride back to the main camp were completely lost to the princess as she simply couldn’t hear him over the noise of the horses. Uncomfortable as she was, she had managed to make eye contact with Sasha and Simon on a couple of occasions to let them know she was all right; for the plans to go ahead as they had discussed. The men of Captain Tessier’s Flight were running Sasha and Simon behind their horses, and Jenevra was delighted to see that her men could more than keep up, and that they responded to the taunts and jibes of the Eagle Flight men with the responses they’d talked about earlier.

There was a small river between them and the camp, with only one way to cross it—a deep ford. Knowing that Simon and Sasha were both excellent swimmers, and that they were attached to the other men by ropes, Jenevra didn’t worry about either of them. Ignoring whatever Captain Tessier was laughing about, Jenevra grinned, sending a silent prayer of thanks to the gods who’d sent Laio to her stables. As arranged, the young lad had made sure that a sharp blade was hidden in a slit in the base of Tessier’s leather stirrup cup, in the anticipation that at some point after she had allowed Tessier to capture her she would be able to get to his horse. Picking it out, carefully, still cost the princess a couple of deep nicks to her fingers but she put the pain aside, focusing on cutting through the ropes around her wrists. That done, she began on the girth bands of the horse, leaving a few final strands to hold the saddle in position until she was ready to make her move.

Slightly frustrated by the lack of response from the girl draped over his saddle, Captain Tessier took a brave decision, and headed his horse to the deepest part of the fordable river crossing. A mischievous smile appeared as he urged the horse into a canter, jumping down the bank into the rushing waters. “Hang on, Princess!” He shouted, as she spluttered through a mouthful of water.

The men of Eagle Flight crossed quickly and easily at the shallow end of the ford, and sat their horses on the far bank, watching in astounded amusement that their Captain would dare to treat the princess that way. Simon and Sasha; soaked after their trip through the ford on foot, caught each other’s eye momentarily and grinned.

With his horse up to its chest in the surging river, Captain Tessier took the opportunity to lean down towards the princess. “Enjoying the ride, Your Highness?” He queried, audaciously.

One hand on the horse’s side, just above its front leg, Jenevra levered herself up enough to glare at him. “You’re going to regret this Tessier,” she snarled up at him; the effect somewhat lessened by another splash of water in her face. “I promise you.”

“Really?” Tessier taunted. “You and whose army, Princess?”

Before he could right himself in the saddle, Jenevra’s hand struck up from underneath the horse, pulling Tessier’s jacket enough to completely unbalance him. The sudden shift in weight was enough to snap the remaining fibers holding the girth bands, and the saddle slipped completely off the horse’s back, taking the Captain with it. As Tessier floundered about in the water, Jenevra caught hold of the horse’s mane and pulled herself onto the animal’s back, guiding with reins and knees, pushing the horse for the bank they’d just left. From the ridge of the bank she turned the horse and shouted back to Captain Tessier who had regained his feet, waterlogged and furious in the middle of the river.

“Really!” She yelled. “I am my army, Captain, didn’t you know? See you at the Emperor’s tent!” Wheeling the horse, the princess galloped back towards the forest, leaving a frustrated Eagle Flight behind her, knowing they couldn’t catch her once she reached the trees.

The main camp formed by the three Imperial Flights out on the plain, was a hive of activity. As soon as word had reached them that most of Jenevra’s Flight was already hidden inside the camp, chaos had broken out as they turned everything inside out looking for them.

Raik and his patrol sat their horses on a small rise just outside the camp; the Imperial Commander had laughed out loud as he had watched the camp almost disintegrate in front of his eyes. Rather disappointed that his men couldn’t see the tactics behind what was going on, he wiped his eyes, and led them into the camp, heading for the large tent in the center where Phillip was waiting. A group of men stood outside the tent, arguing loudly and generally protesting at whatever was happening, although Raik couldn’t see what it was. At his approach the men parted to let him through, and Raik saw that, in the middle of a large patrol from Reiff Pichot’s Flight, was a small contingent from Jenevra’s. It was Jenevra’s men who were protesting so loudly and, just as Raik reached the entrance to the tent, Phillip also appeared demanding to know what the furor was about.

Kallan Bana pushed forward, hands bound in front of him. “Excuse me, Your Imperial Majesty,” he said, trying to bow, rather awkwardly to his Emperor. “But this just isn’t fair.” Signaled to continue by Phillip, Kallan continued. “We weren’t really given any say in joining this Flight, Your Majesty. I know you said we didn’t have to join, but none of us would want to let you down when you asked something of us, so we did it. We stayed with Her Highness.” The men around him muttered their agreement. “But, Your Majesty,” Kallan continued, flicking his hair back from his face. “Not meaning any disrespect to the princess, sire, but really … we’re a laughing stock. Her ideas aren’t sensible; and we have to follow her orders even when they result in all of us being captured, like this.” He gestured around at his fellow Flight members. “It’s really unfair, sire. We didn’t join the Imperial Guard for this; to be ordered around by a young girl … even if she is a Princess. We want out of this unit, Your Majesty. I think you’ll find we all feel the same way, if you ask all of the men.” Kallan looked down, as if ashamed of his words, but the men around him still murmured in consensus.

“I see.” Phillip clasped his hands behind his back and walked through the men. Tall and dark, he looked somber as he asked, “And you all feel this way, do you?” As the men mumbled that they did, the Emperor turned and looked at Raik, no mention of the evening when they had all stated their devotion to the princess crossing his lips. “What do you think, Commander?” He asked. “I mean, I can see their point.”

Certain that he saw a glimmer of something in Phillip’s eyes, Raik drew himself up to his full height, authority in every element of his bearing. “I agree, Majesty, in that I also can see their point, but …” he hesitated as if giving it serious consideration. “Would it not be fair to wait and have Jenevra’s input too? She is the one who is being maligned here, after all.”

“True, true,” Phillip nodded. “But I don’t want this getting all over the camp. I think what we need to do is bring every member of Shadow Flight who is captured to me, in my tent. I will interview each man as to his opinion—which he may express freely,” he added to the men gathered around listening. “By the time the Imperial Protector is here, maybe we will be able to discuss this in a more informed manner. Meantime, these men already here will remain bound in my tent, so their words cannot affect any of the others before I speak to them.” With a satisfied expression, Phillip turned and entered the large tent, beckoning Raik in behind him.

As the men from Shadow Flight were being brought in from various parts of the camp, Phillip took the chance to speak quietly to Raik. “What’s she up to?”

Hiding his grin under pretence of coughing, Raik muttered, “I’m not entirely sure, Phillip, but there is far too much confusion around here for her not to be behind it somewhere. Misdirection and confusion are two of a soldier’s greatest weapons; we just forget to train with them on a regular basis. I think Jenn might just be giving them all a swift lesson in humility.” The two men shared a long amused look, and sat down to await further developments in the day.

By noon, forewarned by the appearance of Lieutenant Jann Crevaux of Tessier’s Eagle Flight who brought Sasha and Simon to join the rest of Shadow Flight, Raik and Phillip did their best to hide their mirth when Captain Tessier arrived, still slightly damp from his dunking in the river, and spewing curses about the princess under his breath. When they had pulled the story out of the very reluctant Tessier, however, they couldn’t hide their laughter. Angered anew by the sniggering of the men of Shadow Flight, Tessier swore fluently, and stalked out of the tent, determined that he would bring the princess in, tied and trussed like a chicken, if it killed him. Barking orders at his men, they began swarming all over the camp. At some point, he reckoned, she would have to try to get into the camp. Well, he would have eyes everywhere. Just let her try.

In fact, Jenevra was already on her way into the camp. Riding hard and fast from the river, she had changed her uniform for one belonging to the House of Wargentin, and had ridden straight into the middle of Conall Wargentin’s Honor Guard, as they headed to the camp, ostensibly to see the day’s events but, in actuality, as pre-arranged between Jenevra and Conall. The two of them had quickly developed a firm friendship, finding common ground as the two dark, smaller versions of their own larger-than-life, flamboyant siblings. The thought of the princess bringing down the infuriatingly self-confident Captain had merely added spice to the situation for Conall, and his men had been warned to say nothing of the extra soldier riding with them directly into the heart of the camp. In the tumult of their arrival into the already hectic camp, it was easy for Jenevra to slip away into a smaller tent, changing clothes once more. Watching and waiting carefully, she saw her Flight’s groom, Laio, walking into a nearby tent. Swinging a cloak with a deeply cowled hood around her, she timed her run to Laio’s tent perfectly, bumping into one of Tessier’s men on her way. Looking away quickly, she growled at him in a deep voice, and ran into the tent. Not fooled for an instant, the soldier hastened to his Captain, telling him what he’d seen. Tessier’s eyes narrowed with a grim satisfaction. There was nowhere for her to run to. He had her now. Striding into the tent, he snatched hold of the cloaked figure carefully cutting a slit in the back of the canvas as an escape route, and dragged her directly towards the Emperor’s tent.

Raik and Phillip looked up with interest as Tessier entered the tent, pulling his captive with him.

“Your Imperial Majesty,” Tessier announced in his most self-righteous tone. “I believe we can call these ‘games’ to a halt. Her Imperial Highness has, most unfortunately, failed in her mission.”

“Really?” Commander Rabenaldt queried. “You’re quite sure about that are you, Captain?”

“Absolutely.” Tessier stood before his Emperor and Commander confidently.

“And this would be?” Raik indicated the figure standing in Tessier’s grip.

A frown crossed Tessier’s face. “This would be Her Highness, Captain Couressime, or whatever it was we were calling her. I suppose it’ll have to be back to Princess from now on.”

Accepting a goblet of wine from a young page at his side, Raik raised his eyebrows. “You’re certain, Captain Tessier?” He turned and glanced at Phillip, who was also taking a goblet of wine. “Well, if you’re sure, I think a toast is in order, don’t you, Your Majesty?”