Josey leaned back in the wobbly camp chair as she shoved the papers away. Another dispatch had arrived from the capital this morning. Hubert must be keeping the court scribes working day and night to keep up, not to mention the messenger service.
It was gratifying to know she'd left the empire in such diligent hands, but the lord regent evidently failed to realize she didn't need to know every aspect of the court's activities while she was away. She'd left him in charge for a reason, but from reading his letters it was apparent that he felt the need to justify every decision.
The door flap moved aside, and Iola entered carrying a basket of laundry. Josey smiled, glad for a distraction, however brief. When she got up to help, Iola shook her head. “Please, milady. You're busy. Let me do this.”
Josey went over and picked up a kirtle, stiff from drying in the cold air. “Nonsense. I need a break. My eyes are about to fall out of my head.”
The girl's hands were quick and deft as she folded each article with precision and tucked it away in the large trunks. “Has there been any word about when we'll be moving again?”
Josey shook her head. She'd gone to see the fallen bridge the previous day. What had once been an impressive wooden span over twenty ells long was now reduced to a few broken pilings sticking up from the river's icy waters. There was no sign of how it had happened, but whatever the cause, the bridge's collapse had put her journey on hold.
“You know,” Iola said. “I've heard there is a village not far from here. We could go if you like. Maybe we'll find something more edible than gruel.”
“I like that idea. I'll call for Captain Drathan.”
“I can do it, milady.”
Josey regarded the girl. “Oh?”
She had never seen Iola blush before, but bright spots of red appeared on the girl's cheeks. It was quite fetching.
“Or you could,” Iola said. “I didn't mean I had to. I mean, you're perfectly capable of-”
“Iola.” Josey couldn't resist smiling. “Is there something I should know?”
“I'm sure I don't know what you're referring to, milady,” Iola replied, and left the tent before Josey could comment.
Captain Drathan was summoned and preparations made, and a short time later Josey was riding over flat, brown plains. Islands of snow decorated the ground in some places, but mostly what she saw in every direction was mud. Heavens, I've seen enough mud to last the rest of my life.
The sun was almost at its zenith, burning away the cloud cover that had lent such a wintry pall to the past couple weeks. Lightning picked his way along, his hooves sinking deep into the saturated earth and coming out with sucking pops.
Iola rode beside her on a beautiful sorrel mare with a flaxen mane. The girl was lively, looking all around, everywhere except the front of her escorting company of bodyguards where Captain Drathan rode. Josey spotted several peaked shapes to the west. Rooftops.
“Is that it, do you think?” she asked.
Iola stood up in her stirrups. “I think so, Majesty. My father said it wasn't far from camp.”
Her bodyguard had seen it, too. At Captain Drathan's direction, a dozen soldiers cantered ahead. The rest formed up around her. But rather than safe, Josey felt cloistered. The whole point of this jaunt was to get away from the stuffy routines of the camp.
It wasn't long before they reached the village. Josey was dismayed at its ramshackle appearance. She was used to seeing the small homes that the commons of her country lived in, but these buildings were nothing more than shacks. Hovels, really. There were more at the middle of the village, huddled close together, but they were in even worse repair, their walls streaked with ash and soot. A shanty of tents and dilapidated shelters extended out into the surrounding fields.
As they entered the village center, people emerged from the buildings and tents. Josey expected a few dozen, but apprehension stirred in her belly as more and more arrived. Soon the square was surrounded. There must more than three hundred people here. Where did they all come from?
Josey stopped inside her cordon of bodyguards, feeling all the eyes suddenly fixed upon her. When Captain Drathan shouted her name and title, a few of the people bowed or curtsied. Others looked away, which made Josey feel even worse. But a number of the villagers simply stared.
Three men exited the largest of the standing structures. They were older, all white-haired and thin. Everyone here was painfully thin, Josey noticed. As the men approached, she dismounted. Captain Drathan likewise got down from his warhorse and came over to stand with her, one hand on the pommel of his sword.
The shortest of the three old men walked before the others. His face was lined and craggy with a large nose, but he smiled as he stopped before her and bowed his head. “I'm Elser,” he said. “What brings you out to us, Your Grace?”
Josey found herself smiling back at the old man. There was something comforting about him. Her throat became dry as she remembered this was how her foster father had made her feel. “We were traveling north, but the bridge is down. While we wait for another route to be found, I thought we would see…”
The old man seemed to understand. “Not what you expected to find, Your Grace?”
“No.” Josey fought the knot forming in her throat. Looking at these people, some of them with hardly anything warm to wear, women holding their rag-swaddled children, was heartbreaking. “What happened here?”
“War, Your Grace. The oldest story there is.”
Josey pursed her lips. She'd heard the reports of nobles fighting in the heartlands. She never thought it was so devastating. These people are suffering, and I have failed them.
“It's been going on for as long as any of us can remember, Your Grace,” the old man said. “But these past few years it's gotten worse. Spring raids turned into summer campaigns that lasted through the autumn. And now the fighting goes on all winter, too. We haven't been able to bring in a good harvest in years. All the young men were taken away. They've only left those of us too old to fight. Our women have no husbands, our children no fathers. We've been holding on as best we can, waiting for things to get better. Now people from other villages have come here, but we can hardly provide for ourselves. In another season or two, we'll be gone.”
Josey wanted to turn away as pricks of moisture gathered in her eyes, but she forced herself to face the old man. “How can I help?”
The smile he gave her was like a warm ray of sunshine. “Our stores are gone. We could use something to eat, Your Grace.”
Josey looked to Drathan. “Captain, send someone back to the camp. I want wagons here with food, warm clothing, and blankets. Anything these people need. And send for Doctor Krav, too.”
With a salute, Captain Drathan went about following her orders. Some of her bodyguards gave up their cloaks to the people in the crowd and broke out packages of rations from their saddlebags. Like water over a dam, the villagers surged forward, accepting these gifts and thanking the soldiers. Children laughed as they bit into rolls of hard tack and drank from waterskins. Watching Iola hold a small girl of three or four, Josey trembled at the rush of emotions running through her.
She turned back to Elser. “Who is your liege lord, Elser?”
Josey watched with a child balanced on her hip as the frame of a new barn went up. Ropes creaked and men grunted as the wooden lattice rose to meet the three sides already in place. Villagers with hammers climbed across the framework, pounding in nails to secure it in place.
“What do you think?” Josey asked the child. “Isn't it big?”
Marian, who was only three, smiled shyly around the candy stick in her mouth and buried her face in Josey's shoulder.
“Marian!” her mother cried as peppermint goo smeared across Josey's gown. “I'm sorry, Your Majesty.”
Josey laughed. “It's all right, Tara. Nothing that won't wash out.” She kissed the child's head. “And who could be cross with such a little angel?”
Her mother shook her head. “Angel, is she? Tell me that when she's up before the sun.”
They watched as the men, her soldiers and the villagers together, worked on the barn. In two days, they had rebuilt most of the homes in the village. Without any thatch for the roofs, a squad of her army was carving tiles from excess timber. When they were done, this would be the best-looking village in the empire. A line of people waited in a queue outside the tent Doctor Krav had set up in the square. Josey had been appalled to learn they had no medicine except what they could find for themselves in the wild.
“We can't thank you enough, Majesty,” Tara said as she teased the candy from between Marian's teeth. “If you hadn't come by…” A shadow passed over her face, which was far too worn and tired for a woman barely past twenty. “You've saved us.”
Josey buried her nose in Marian's hair and swallowed the lump in her throat. How many more villages like this one were out there, just weeks or days from starvation? How could she save them all?
A rider maneuvered around the piles of fresh-hewn lumber, coming in her direction. Josey handed the child back to Tara. She'd been expecting word from Lord General Argentus, but she wasn't sure what she wanted to hear anymore. Two days ago she'd been hell-bent for racing north. Now, things looked different. No. I need to find Caim. He needs to know about his child. And… What? Couldn't she admit her selfish motives for this trip? She missed him. Was that a sin?
The rider was one of her officer corps. As he got closer, she recognized his distinctive sleek, blond mustache that flowed down into his goatee.
“Lieutenant Butus. Good afternoon. What news?”
The lieutenant slid down and took off his helmet. Making a quick bow, he said, “Majesty, I've just come from the outer patrols. The fourth squad has spotted a party of armed men to the south, riding hard.”
Armed men on horseback. That sounded exactly like the kind of trouble that had caused the people of this village so much misery. Not again, if she had anything to say about it. “Were they flying a banner?”
“None that the squad could see.”
Josey started to turn. “Cap-!”
Captain Drathan was right behind her. Sweat matted his hair, which actually made him look more attractive. No wonder Iola seemed smitten with him.
“Yes, Majesty.”
“Lieutenant Butus has a report of a band of men riding in the area. How far did you say, Lieutenant?”
“About half a league, Majesty.”
“We're going to find them before they cause any more damage. Please have Lightning brought over from the pasture.”
Captain Drathan saluted and jogged away, shouting orders. The villagers watched as the soldiers assembled in their little square. Elser walked over from the barn raising.
“Trouble, Majesty?” he asked.
“I don't know yet. We're going to find out.”
Josey looked down at her clothes. Though she wasn't dressed for riding, she couldn't take the time to change. They needed to catch these riders before they slipped away. The village headman backed away as a soldier led Josey's horse over. She put her foot in the stirrup and climbed up, relieved to see her bodyguard was likewise mounting.
Captain Drathan rode over. “We have thirty-seven men here, Majesty. I could send for more.”
“No. We'll ride with what we have. Elser, can you send someone to the camp and tell them where we've gone?”
As Elser went to find a runner, they rode out at a swift canter, Lieutenant Butus leading the way. They followed a dirt path to the end of the adjacent fields, but then it was a bumpy ride across-of course-more mud. Riding more east than south, they came upon a line of trees running perpendicular to their course and found a raised road running along the arbor. Beyond were more mud flats that extended to the foot of some low hills in the distance.
Lieutenant Butus pointed to a stand of trees bordering the flats. “That's where they were seen, Majesty. They would have had to cross this ground. So if we-”
“There!” Captain Drathan flung up his hand.
Josey saw them, too, a party of ten horsemen making their way across the eastern edge of the flats. Like Butus had reported, they flew no colors, but she could pick out the gleam of armor even from this distance. “I want them stopped!” she shouted, and urged Lightning into a gallop.
The clamor of hoofbeats and jangling chainmail filled Josey's ears as she crouched over Lightning's neck. For a moment, she considered the wisdom of her actions. She had little idea what they were riding into, whether the men ahead had friends in the area. Months ago she had fended off multiple attempts on her life, but after the long, slow journey from Othir she longed for some excitement. Just a little.
They approached the end of the arbor, and suddenly the path vanished in a wide patch of frozen mud. Josey tried to pull up, but Lightning had too much momentum to stop. As her steed's hooves struck the slick ice, Josey was hit by the sickening feeling of weightlessness. Lightning floundered, and they would have fallen over except that the horse slid into a patch of knee-deep snow. Josey gulped as the world righted itself, hardly believing she had kept her seat. The others, seeing her folly, rode around the icy patch.
Captain Drathan's face went white as the snow as he reined in close to her. “Majesty! Are you-?”
Josey took a breath. “I'm fine. Really.” She bent over to see if Lightning was all right. The stallion's legs quivered, but otherwise he appeared hale and healthy. That's what I get for not thinking.
Josey climbed down from her horse, not wanting to risk an injury to him. One of her soldiers dismounted and gave up his steed. While Josey climbed up, her bodyguard continued forward. She rode at the rear across the ground, which was a mash of mud and ice. The stirrups were too long for her, forcing her to cling to the horse's belly with her thighs. She couldn't see the armed riders anywhere. Just as she started cursing in her head, Captain Drathan shouted.
“In the name of Josephine, Empress of Nimea, halt where you stand!”
Josey couldn't see anything through the crowd of tall soldiers, but as they slowed she was able to wend through their ranks. The armed riders had gathered across a small meadow. She could see right away by their gleaming mail and the quality of their steeds that they were men of means and not brigands. All wore great helms that hid their features. Josey imagined what they must look like to the defenseless villagers, riding in with swords swinging. Like monsters. She kneed her mount forward as her bodyguard spread out to surround the men.
The armed riders watched them warily. One of the men in chainmail urged his mount forward, and thirty-six swords cleared their scabbards. The riders started for their weapons, too, but the man who had come forward stopped them with an upraised fist.
“Whoever you are,” he said, “you had better have a good reason for stopping us.”
“We do.” Captain Drathan nodded to Josey. “Your empress demands it. Now get down off your horses before we are forced to lay hands upon you.”
Josey swallowed as all the riders turned their heads to look at her. Then their leader slid down from his mount. He reached up and pulled off his helmet to reveal a tan, weathered face. His sweaty gray hair was matted to his pate. Holding his helmet under his arm, he lowered himself to one knee, and his men did likewise.
“Who are you?” Josey asked. “Where are you from?”
The leader looked at her and frowned. His eyes were steel-blue under bushy black brows. “I am Gerak Therbold, lord of Aquos.”
Josey had heard of that territory, but knew almost nothing about it. “Where are you going with these men, Lord Therbold? You're armed as if for battle.”
“I am going to defend my lands, Highness,” he replied without hesitation.
Josey's borrowed horse pranced in a circle, and she had to turn around to keep facing the lord. “Defend them from whom, my lord?”
“It is a private matter, Highness. I would prefer to deal with it on my own.”
Josey clamped her legs around the horse and jerked the reins sharply to get it to stand still, but with little effect. “Like you and your ilk have dealt with the local villagers? I have seen the devastation wrought by your private little war, my lord. I aim to put an end to it. Now tell me. Who were you going to fight?”
Lord Therbold's mouth twitched, and Josey thought he wasn't going to answer, but then he said, “Count Sarrow of Farridon. His men have been pillaging our eastern border since last spring. Two days ago we received a message from Hafsax, one of my larger fiefs, that Sarrow was moving there in force. My son took a party of men to prevent this, but I haven't had word from him since.”
Josey took a deep breath. Her anger was dwindling, against her will. “And you are going to find your son, my lord?”
“I am, Highness. By the grace of the Prophet.”
“Stand up, Lord Therbold. How far is Hafsax?”
The man climbed to his feet. “Three leagues from here, Highness. As the crow flies.”
Josey nodded to Captain Drathan. “We will accompany Lord Therbold on his mission. Send someone back to the lord general for additional men. And have Master Hirsch come with them.”
While the captain selected a messenger, Lord Therbold and his men remounted with Josey's permission. Therbold looked unsure, but surrounded by her bodyguard, he didn't have much choice in the matter. If he's lying to me…
“Lead the way, my lord,” she said, and flinched at the steel in her own voice.
With a bark to his retainers, the nobleman kicked his steed and took off through the cold mud. They rode for the better part of a candlemark, over countryside that became rougher and hillier as they progressed. The road was little more than a dirt path riddled with ruts and frozen puddles. Josey shifted back and forth trying to find a comfortable position in this saddle, but it was proving a futile endeavor. The borrowed seat was killing her.
“Are you aware,” she said to Lord Therbold, who had deigned to ride beside her, though he hardly spoke at all, “that my army has been traveling through your lands for more than a sennight?”
“From what I've heard, Highness, it isn't much of an army.”
Ouch. “Perhaps not, my lord. But it is a sad day when an empress is not welcomed by her vassals when she arrives in their dominion.”
He bent his stiff neck. “My apologies, Highness. If I have been remiss in my hospitality, pray excuse me.”
“Of course. Tell me about your grievance with Count Sarrow. What started this feud?”
“Sarrow is a swine. He thinks he can intimidate me into rolling back our border from its traditional placement, but I will not yield. And so he provokes me at his pleasure, by which I mean constantly.”
“Why Hafsax? What is its significance?”
Lord Therbold glanced at her out of the corner of his eye. “As I said, it is one of my larger holdings in the east. It provides much-needed wheat and corn, and wool that I trade in exchange for the things my lands require.”
“That's it? It has no strategic value?”
“Highness, I don't know what you're-”
“I find it difficult to believe that this Count Sarrow would risk open conflict over corn and wool.”
The nobleman rode silently, looking straight ahead. Josey waited, but he said no more. She was about to ask about his son in the hopes of getting him to lower his guard when a shout from the front of the party reached back to them. Josey peered ahead to see what was going on. Clouds of black smoke rose from over the next rise.
Lord Therbold put on his helmet. “That would be Hafsax. Men of Kistol, to me!”
As the nobleman rode off with his soldiers, Captain Drathan ordered four soldiers to remain with Josey. He didn't give her time to argue before he slammed down his visor and galloped forward, kicking up clods of mud. Josey urged her steed to pick up the pace as well.
She reached the top of the rise, and a patchwork of fields lay before her, at the end of which was a small village. The wattle-and-daub homes huddled together on the banks of a wide stream. Smoke poured from a couple of thatch roofs as men on horseback rode around the village brandishing torches and weapons. A group of villagers stood behind crude barricades-overturned wagons and household furniture. She didn't see any bodies. Thank heavens. Perhaps we're not too late.
“Majesty?” Captain Drathan asked.
Josey considered the situation. “Separate the two sides, Captain. I want a barrier between the soldiers and the village.”
Whatever he thought of her plan, Drathan kept it to himself as he saluted and led her soldiers down toward the conflict. Lord Therbold, meanwhile, had taken his men straight for the village. Josey almost called her guards back. If Therbold did something foolish, this entire situation could explode. But she held her tongue.
Most of the villagers possessed little in the way of weaponry-just farm tools and sticks-but one man wore a shirt of steel scales and carried a sword as he ran back and forth between the barricades wherever Count Sarrow's men advanced. More fires were set, but there was no clash of arms. For the time being, the lone swordsman was holding off the attackers. Shouts arose from Sarrow's men as her bodyguard approached. For one awful moment, Josey thought a real battle would erupt, but then the attackers withdrew to a large field on the far side of the hamlet. Josey breathed easier when Captain Drathan set up a defensive position around the homes. By that time, Therbold and his men had been permitted inside the barricades.
Josey urged her horse down the hill. Captain Drathan rode out to meet her on the trampled field. “I was going to send a detachment to escort you, Majesty.”
“I was quite safe, Captain. Do you think we can enter the village?”
“I would suggest sending an envoy first. To ascertain their intentions.”
“Ascertain their…?” Josey shook her head. “Captain, they are my subjects. I can clearly see them from here. All I'm suggesting is that we talk with them.”
Captain Drathan made a tight smile. “As you wish, Majesty. But I believe that imperial law states that the townships under a lord's control are considered his property, above and beyond the Crown. In effect, you would need Lord Therbold's permission to enter.”
Josey fought the urge to growl something obscene. “Fine, Captain. Please send a delegation to the village to ask if we may enter. And while you are at it, remind them that their situation could deteriorate quickly if we simply withdrew our presence to, say, over that hill.”
“Aye, Majesty. With pleasure.”
She stopped the captain with a raised hand before he could ride away. “And send someone to the other side, too. Find out who is in charge and tell them I want to see them. Right away.”
Captain Drathan saluted and hurried away. Josey brushed a gloved hand down her chest and over her skirt, both of which were spattered in tiny dots of mud. They're never going to come out.
After several minutes, while she sat on her horse like a grimy statue, a pair of her bodyguards came over and informed her that permission to enter had been given.
“Have we heard a reply from the other force yet?” she asked.
“Yes, Majesty,” one of the soldiers answered. “Count Sarrow has agreed to a parley if you will guarantee his safety.”
She sent them off with assurances for Sarrow's welfare and started toward the village. A barricade had been moved aside to allow her and a detachment of her soldiers to enter. Captain Drathan met them inside.
“Count Sarrow is on his way, Majesty.”
“Very good. I hope we can clear up this trouble.”
Captain Drathan escorted her to the village square, where the population had gathered. There were over a hundred people in sight, many of them in the same shape as Elser's village. Lord Therbold stood beside the man in scale armor, who was taller than the lord, with a rangy build. That must be his son.
As she approached, the swordsman removed his helmet, revealing a younger face than she anticipated. He looked to be about her age. He watched her with eyes like blue ice as Lord Therbold spoke in his ear.
Captain Drathan cleared his throat. “I present Empress-”
“Josephine.” The swordsman knelt on one knee. “We thank you, Majesty, with all of our hearts. Your arrival is most welcome.”
Josey bit her tongue as the villagers knelt as one, and even Lord Therbold and his men knelt again. “Please,” she said. “Stand up. My Lord Therbold, this is your son?”
The nobleman put a hand on the swordsman's shoulder. “This is Brian, my heir.” He looked around the village. “He held off the count's entire band until we could arrive.”
“Not just me.” Brian shrugged off his father's hand. “Every man here stood bravely.”
“Aye,” Therbold agreed. “But it was you who put the steel in their backbones.”
Hoofbeats sounded from behind, and Josey turned to see three men ride into the village. The center figure was a man with receding gray hair and sharp hazel eyes half-hidden beneath heavy bags. His sword had a silver handle topped with a polished green tourmaline as big as a quail's egg. A squad of Captain Drathan's men followed the trio at a respectful distance.
“Sarrow!” Therbold shouted. “You will pay for the damages you've caused here, and I will not forget this insult.”
The older rider regarded Therbold with a perturbed frown. “It is I who have suffered your insults for too long. I will not suffer them any longer! If not for this interruption, I would have taken back what is mine by rights.”
Interruption? Josey suppressed a curse. She would not be ignored on her own soil. She caught Drathan's eye and nodded firmly.
“Dismount at once,” he called out, “in the presence of Her Imperial Majesty!”
Count Sarrow pursed his thin lips and, taking his time, got down from his massive warhorse with the help of his aides. He did not kneel, however, but made only a nod in her direction. “Highness,” he said without emphasis.
Josey contemplated pressing the point, but decided to invoke her better nature. “I greet you, Count Sarrow, although I wish it could be under other circumstances.”
“Do you mean the circumstance,” Sarrow said, “by which you stand with the man who has stolen my property, abused my villains, and spit upon my family's honor?”
“Take out your sword!” Therbold roared. “We'll settle this right now!”
As the nobles reached for their weapons, Captain Drathan moved between them. “The man who draws a blade in Her Majesty's presence will suffer for it.”
Both men backed off, but they glared at each other with evident hatred.
“My lords,” Josey said. “I am calling for a halt to all hostilities between your fiefs.”
Lord Therbold snorted. “That would be my greatest pleasure, Highness. If this pig would keep his men off my lands.”
“Lands you stole from me!' Sarrow retorted. “After you burned down two of my mills.”
“I had nothing to do with it.”
“You lie!”
Josey tried to stand up in the stirrups, but couldn't find purchase even on her tiptoes. Frustrated, she shouted, “Shut up both of you!”
Sarrow and Therbold glowered at each other, but they remained silent. Brian had a hand on his father's arm.
Josey cleared her throat and tried to ignore the villagers staring at her. “Now, it is growing late, and my camp is far away.”
Sarrow looked to his rival. “I would be happy to provide an escort for you-”
“Thank you, my lord, but that will not be necessary.” She smiled. “You and I will both be guesting with Lord Therbold this evening.”
Therbold's mouth hung open. “Highness, that would be-”
“That is a command, my lord.” Josey looked to Count Sarrow. “For both of you. Therbold will play host and we shall sit down like level-headed men and women and solve this problem. Together.”
Lord Therbold muttered something under his breath, and then said, “I will not allow this mongrel in my house, Highness. I would rather-”
Josey glanced over Count Sarrow's shoulders. Lord Therbold's words died away as Hirsch approached on his small mare, followed by a company of crossbowmen. The soldiers' arrival had a profound effect on both noblemen. After a quiet conference with his officers, Sarrow announced he would be glad for a chance to settle their differences. Therbold was not so effusive, but he bent his stiff neck and mumbled a half-hearted welcome.
As the two sides set out on the road, leaving the villagers in peace, Josey rode up beside Hirsch. The adept smiled beneath the crumpled brim of his hat. “Making new friends, lass?”
“Not so much.” She leaned closer. “Your timing is excellent, Master Hirsch.”
“So I've been told, but it looked like you had things well in hand.”
It didn't feel like it. “Thank you. Any news from Argentus?”
“About finding a crossing? Nothing new. He has scouts on both sides of the river, but my guess is we'll be stuck here at least another couple days.”
“Just what I didn't need to hear. Can't you”-Josey wiggled her fingers in front of her-“wizard up some way for us to cross?”
He looked at her out of the sides of his eyes with one brow arched.
“All right.” Josey puffed out her cheeks. “Send a message back to camp, telling them where we'll be. In the meantime, I'll see if I can get these two old bulls talking.”
“I think browbeating them was an auspicious start.”
Josey glared until Hirsch winked, and they both started laughing as they rode down the muddy path.