The Decoy Princess (36 page)

“You aren’t going to die,” I said harshly, remembering his mistrustful words. “And we’ll get her back.” I turned to Duncan. “Help me get him in the wagon.” I pulled at Thadd. “Get up!” I said, trying to drag him. “It will wear off. Get up, you lout! If you love her, get up!”
Where is the rain? It ought to be
raining
.

Thadd lurched to his knees, doubled over in pain. Duncan took his other arm, and together we lifted the short but hard-muscled man into a staggering walk.

“Wagon!” I gasped, struggling to keep him from falling on me.

“Chu, Tess,” Duncan muttered. “You might be nicer. Those darts hurt.”

“I know,” I said belligerently, surprised that Kavenlow’s blurring of Duncan’s thoughts hadn’t taken.

But my anger slipped into a grudging empathy as I helped Duncan move Thadd to the wagon. Jeck’s darts held half the venom I used. Goat Boy probably wouldn’t even pass out.

Thadd collapsed heavily into the wagon’s bed beside the long box. “Harness the horse,” I said tersely as Thadd groaned, his thick shoulders hunched and trembling.

Duncan jumped from the wagon. I listened with half my attention as he coddled the frightened draft animal into position. Jeck’s old horse nickered in recognition, and I spun.

I loosed a dart, my hand covering my mouth when I hit Kavenlow. “Be careful with those,” he said in annoyance, plucking the bone needle from his shoulder and frowning.

“Kavenlow, I’m sorry!” I cried, embarrassed.

Scowling, he nudged Pitch closer and handed me my dart back. He glanced at Thadd. “Is he going to be all right?”

I nodded, then scooted across the hay-strewn wagon and back to the ground. I wildly threw everything that wasn’t packed in beside Thadd.
It’s my fault. I should have been with her. I should
have been closer
.

Kavenlow dismounted and tied Pitch to the back of the wagon. He levered himself up on the bench and slapped the reins. I joined him, gripping the bench as we rattled and bounced back onto the trail.

Duncan mounted Tuck and paced in front of us down the path. The flighty gray arched his neck and pranced as if on parade.

“He must have been watching us for hours,” Kavenlow said tersely. “Perhaps as early as last night. I thought we’d have more time.”

My stomach clenched, and I felt ill. “It’s my fault. I should have walked her back to camp,” I whispered, and Kavenlow gave me a grunt and a sideways look.

“Your fault? No.” I said nothing, and Kavenlow’s frown deepened. “Leave it be, Tess,” he said.

“Jeck made a move. Now we counter it. We’re going to the palace; he’s going to the palace. It doesn’t matter whose company she arrives in. Garrett won’t harm her.”

“He might marry her,” I said, realizing I had worsened the tear in my top skirt. I glanced behind me at Thadd. His eyes were unfocused, but he seemed to be gripped more by remorse man pain.

“Not until he can prove to the people that she is the real princess,” Kavenlow said. “He can’t pass her off as you. The people know you, especially the merchants.” He made a short, mirthless laugh. “This is the middle game, Tess, not the end. It’s not over.”

His voice held an eager, intent tone, and I watched him chew his lower lip as we jostled down the path at too fast a gait. A familiar light was in his eyes. It was the same I had seen when we stayed up late to finish a game of thieves and kings. Though worried, a tension that had been building in me since yesterday began to unravel into a steady anticipation.

Jeck had taken Contessa, but that didn’t mean we would let him keep her.

Twenty-six

Kavenlow pulled the draft horse to a stop where the trail branched. I leaned past him to see the hoofprints pressed deep in the soft earth. From atop Tuck, Duncan came to a halt. I looked from the tracks to Kavenlow. “He went straight,” I said. “He’s still carrying her.”

A frown creased Kavenlow’s forehead, and he ran a hand across his trim, graying beard. “If I remember, there’s a river ahead. I’d be willing to wager the crossing is too difficult for a wagon the way Captain Jeck took. That’s why the two paths. See?” He pointed straight ahead. “It tapers down to little more than a horse path that way. I think we should go left, but I don’t want to diverge from Captain Jeck unless we have to.”

I glanced behind me to Thadd sitting miserably in the wagon’s bed beside the long box. He had quickly recovered, his squat bulk throwing off Jeck’s weaker venom faster than I would have imagined possible. But he had yet to banish his depression. I felt bad, as nothing was his fault. Duncan had repeatedly told him so, but Thadd might not believe it until Contessa said the same. Even then, I didn’t think he would.

“Duncan,” Kavenlow continued. “Go see if the water is too high for a wagon crossing.”

“Let’s leave the wagon,” I complained. “We’ve enough horses to follow on horseback.”

It was the third time today I had suggested it, and Kavenlow grimaced. “Duncan?” he prompted. The cheat grinned at my impatience from under his grimy hat. Pulling Tuck’s head up, he gave his flanks a smart kick. The flighty horse bolted down the thin trail. I would have liked to follow him. The slow pace the wagon had reduced us to had me almost frantic.

We had been steadily falling behind Jeck. Kavenlow wouldn’t leave the wagon and its heavy load.

Thadd’s statue couldn’t be that good. He wasn’t much older than I was.

The draft horse’s ears pricked, and I wasn’t surprised when Duncan and Tuck slid back around the corner faster than they had left. “He’s at the river!” he said as he reined up. “Captain Jeck is on the other side sitting on his horse waiting for us. I think he wants to talk.”

My heart jumped into my throat. Jeck was waiting.

Thadd lurched upright in a clatter of noise. “Contessa! Did you see her?” he exclaimed.

Duncan shook his head, and a severe determination came over Thadd’s square face. Bare feet sliding in the bed of the wagon, he pushed a spot for himself between Kavenlow and me on the bench.

Snatching the reins from Kavenlow, he clicked at the horse. The sedate animal flicked an ear and rocked into motion.

“This is what I was waiting for,” Kavenlow said, peering at me from around Thadd as we rattled forward. “It’s a game, Tess. One where the pieces don’t always do what you want.”

I grasped the bench as the pace grew fast. “He has Contessa. What else does he need?”

The river wasn’t far ahead, and Thadd kept us to a fast clip. The edges of the wagon began scraping the encroaching branches with an alarming amount of noise. I wondered how we were going to get back to the main trail if we couldn’t cross here. Thadd’s pace was substantially faster than Kavenlow’s, and I started to feel queasy as we rocked and lurched along.

I heard the river before seeing it. My first glimpse of it did nothing to instill any confidence. It stretched before us, a rumbling icy tumble of water running high with snowmelt. It would be foolish to cross here if there was an easier way upstream.

My gaze roved the far bank for Jeck. I pulled my cloak tighter about my shoulders as I found him at a small rise in the trail atop a brown horse. He must have gotten it at Saltwood. He sat tall, unmoving but for the wind shifting his cape. Like a mysterious figure from a story, he tipped his hat and waited.

Contessa wasn’t with him. I was willing to wager she was tied to a tree out of shouting distance, her hair down and her boots and stockings off for whatever reason. I didn’t think Jeck would hurt her, but if he had, I would see he got twice what she received.

Frowning, I wondered where my loyalty had come from, finding it odd she should have earned it so quickly with her offer to share a sliver of soap and her honest plea for help.

Kavenlow took the reins out of Thadd’s hands and pulled the horse to a stop before the man could drive the wagon directly into the river. Immediately I swung to the ground and reached for Jeck’s horse tied to the back of the wagon.

“You’re not going,” Duncan said as he wedged Tuck between the black horse and me.

“The devil I’m not!” Shoving Tuck out of my way, I glared up at Kavenlow still on the wagon’s bench. “And don’t give me any chu pit of an excuse like I have to stay behind and guard the wagon.

Someone has to watch your back.”

Kavenlow took his eyes from across the river. He looked grim and uncertain. “I’m going alone.

Duncan? Off your horse.”

“What?” the cheat exclaimed.

“I need a horse. Yours is the only one ready to ride.”

He shook his head, slow and controlled. “I’m coming with you. Tess is right. You can’t go alone.”

My shoulders tensed. “I’m the one going. And neither of you can stop me!”

Kavenlow’s face darkened, and he gathered his breath to protest. I raised my chin, and he frowned.

“All right,” he said. “But I want your promise you’ll do everything I tell you.”

“Don’t I always?” I countered, wanting to keep my options open.

He hesitated, knowing I hadn’t said yes.

“I should go, not her,” Duncan said as he tried to still Tuck’s nervous sidestepping. “What’s to keep him from knocking you on the head and taking you again, Tess? Then he’d have both of you. It’s a trap.”

Kavenlow jumped to the soggy ground. “She escaped him before,” he said. “She could do it again if she had to. I’ll take Tess.”

My flush of pleased vindication shifted into excitement. Duncan slipped reluctantly off Tuck and held the horse’s head as Kavenlow took his place. The horse shifted at the heavier weight. My brow furrowed as Kavenlow held a hand for me to ride before him.

“One horse?” I said. “I’ve got my own, thank you.”

Kavenlow’s eyes looked tired under his eyebrows streaked with gray. “You want to put the animal you stole from him back within his reach?”

Sighing, I accepted his hand and arranged myself before Kavenlow like the princess I used to be.

Thadd was scanning the shore, his expression of hope waning.

“Be careful,” Duncan called as we splashed into the shallows. “Tuck doesn’t like water.”

“Tuck doesn’t like anything,” I said softly. But either the weight of an extra person was enough to calm him, or the soothing thoughts I was attempting to wedge into his foolish head were getting through, and we started the crossing without difficulty. It wasn’t as deep as it looked. The statue-heavy wagon should be all right.

I kept the stained hem of my dress out of the water and my eyes on Jeck. The powerfully built man looked nothing like the captain of King Edmund’s guard anymore. The lack of a uniform and overdone hat left him all the more dangerous, dressed in his simple but well-made black shirt and trousers. Even his thick-soled boots were black. He sat atop his horse, unmoving, with a sure confidence, his cloak drifting about his stirrups.

The memory of the firelight flickering against his damp skin as I sponged the blood from his back made my stomach clench. My hands had tried to heal him. His had warmed in return. Flushing, I put the back of my hand to my cheek to cool it. Of all the things I should be thinking about, this was the last.

We neared the bank, and Tuck heaved out of the water, blowing hard to take in the scent of the other horse. Seeing Jeck so self-possessed, I had a stab of doubt. Regardless of what Kavenlow said, I knew Jeck held all the cards. Together we might subdue him with venom, but I knew that Kavenlow wouldn’t violate the truce of a parley.

My eyes widened as I realized Jeck’s saddle was the one I had sold in Saltwood. The packs behind it were his own, and I was glad the innkeeper had been honest enough to give them to him. We came to a halt before Jeck, and I felt Kavenlow shift in a sigh.

Jeck’s eyes flicked briefly to Kavenlow, then fastened on me. “Good to see you again, Princess,” he said, his resonant voice lacking even a hint of malice or sarcasm.

I flushed deeper, the memory of his smooth muscles slick with ointment under my fingertips coming unbidden to me. “Captain Jeck,” I said, sure Kavenlow had noticed my red face. My eyes lingered on my bag still fastened to Jeck’s belt.

Seeing where my attention was, Jeck unknotted it and extended it to me. “I believe this belongs to you,” he said. “You forgot it in your rush to leave my company.”

I carefully accepted it and looked inside to find everything there but my bone knife and venom.

“Where’s the rest?” I asked, very aware of one of Jeck’s knives at the small of my back.

“Where are my knives? My horse?” he drawled, his gaze drifting across the river.

Kavenlow cleared his throat, and I grew nervous. “You’ll get them back later,” I said.

“As will you.” Jeck turned to Kavenlow and inclined his head in a respectful greeting. His eyes never shifted from Kavenlow’s. “She ought not be here,” he said, clearly having turned to the matter at hand.

“Technically, she’s still a piece, not a player.”

“She would still be a piece in truth if you hadn’t opened your mouth,” Kavenlow said, anger in his usually calm voice. “What am I supposed to do? Pretend she knows nothing? You forced my hand with my apprentice; you will tolerate a few irregularities.”

Jeck’s horse shifted, and he took up the slack in the reins. “You have my formal apology for having interfered with your student. My inexperience misled me into divulging her status. I apologize. It wasn’t intentional.”

My eyebrows rose. Jeck sounded not only sincere but also meek. That wasn’t the captain of the guard I had known. I turned to Kavenlow, surprised at the deep look of anger on him.

“You have severely compromised my game,” Kavenlow said. “One of my most valuable pieces—I’m sorry, Tess—has lost her versatility because of you. It has furthered your position tremendously.

Unintentional or not, you broke a rule. Your comparatively new status of player is no excuse. If you can’t play properly, you will be removed—Captain.”

Jeck reddened. “I made an error,” he said, his meekness gone, “but it was an honest one. I won’t make any large concessions for it. The only compensation I’ll give is to help insure the rightful heir gains the throne, thereby eliminating the possibility of you and your apprentice being persecuted for putting a player in a direct position to rule.”