It was as if everything had finally been cleared up. We knew what we were doing. We had a plan. And I would back it wholeheartedly. There would be no turning back at this point. We had to rescue the innocent people imprisoned by the Inquisition. If the Royal Army caught us, we would fight.
Marc woke up beside me and kissed me. We ate breakfast, dressed, and met the others at the remnants of Petr’s pyre. Despite the amount of alcohol consumption that had taken place the night before, everyone was wide-eyed and alert.
The rebels were ready.
“Good morning,” Henrik said.
“Morning, Henrik.”
He handed us a bundle.
“What’s this?”
“Muffins.”
“Thanks.” I smiled. It was a peace offering.
He patted the top of my head. “You’re welcome.”
“Are you and Marc—”
“We’re good,” Henrik said.
“I’m glad.” I reached up on my tiptoes and kissed him gently on the cheek. “Shall we?”
It took an hour to gather everyone. One hundred and thirty people were going to Prague. This number included rebels and Gypsy fighters. It was mostly men. A few women were coming along, including Zora and me. Ruzena stayed behind, as did Igor, much to his protests. But as Marc pointed out, we needed leadership in Kladno, too. Over three hundred people would be staying behind, so we had to make sure those people were safe and cared for.
“I have something for you.” Marc walked over with his hand closed into a fist.
“Is there a big, juicy piece of meat hidden in there?”
He laughed. “Unfortunately, no.” He opened his hand. A black string lay in his open palm. “I know you believe strongly in your Catholic faith. I respect that. We are fighting against the corruption of that—not the religion itself. Even though you are not a Protestant, you’re fighting with us—like your mother did ten years ago. You are a part of this revolution.”
My eyes watered. “I’m completely behind you.”
He tied the black string around my wrist. “Now you are officially part of this revolution.”
It was a small token but an enormous gesture. I’d formally joined the cause. Just as my mother had before me. I rose on my tiptoes and kissed his cheek. “Thank you, Marc.”
We set out on foot and horse. The plan was to move as a group through Kivoklát Forest until we were a few miles from Prague. There, we would split into a smaller group to free the prisoners. The main group would stay in the forest unless we needed their help.
Hopefully we wouldn’t need them.
As our group trudged out of Kladno, the cemetery rose in the distance. The perfectly round space was meticulously maintained, unlike the wild growth that surrounded it. That’s how I noticed it.
In the middle of the graveyard, where the old man had kept watch for his daughter-in-law, was a pile of dirt. The grave had been dug up; loose soil was messily piled on top of the grass.
The sight disturbed me. Had the old man dug her up? Had she risen? What had happened?
“What’s wrong? Marc asked.
My mouth opened and then shut. “Nothing.”
“Are you sure?”
I wasn’t. But now was not the time. I smiled, knowing the gesture didn’t reflect in my eyes. Marc didn’t press the issue.
Marc, Henrik, Stephan, Zora, and I rode in front. My shoulder was healing; it was sore when I moved, but the constant pain was gone. I wouldn’t be fighting of course, but I was glad Marc hadn’t insisted that I stay back in Kladno. I wanted to be a part of this revolution.
It was my fight, too.
“I was highly impressed with you in Prucha,” Zora said.
“Why’s that?” I asked.
“You did not scream while you were in that torture contraption.”
“I wanted to.”
“Yet you didn’t,” she said. “That was brave.”
“Thank you.”
“But what was braver—to me, at least—was that you had the courage to go against the grain for what you believe in.”
I glanced at her pretty painted face. “You thought I would stay with Radek and Václav? Run back to the castle?”
“You could have chosen the easier route and stayed with the Crown. But you chose the tougher journey.” She nodded. “Very brave.”
“That sounds exactly like my palm reading.”
Zora smiled. “You remember.”
“How could I forget?” Zora’s words were forever burned into my consciousness:
Her vivid green eyes were the color of lush grass at the height of the rainy season.
“A shorter line means an earlier death,” I said.
“Yes, but the shorter path is a much fuller life. Crammed with love, passion, and war. It is a difficult line.” She squeezed my fingers before she released me. Her hand felt dry, like paper.
My heart fluttered. “What about Marc? What does his palm say?”
“I’ve read Marc’s palm before. The lines usually do not change.”
“And... ?” Marc’s eyes fell on me, but I focused on the beautiful Gypsy. I had to know what she’d seen for his future.
Zora shrugged good-naturedly. “Marc is a catalyst for change. He has always been destined for greatness.”
“I’m going to die,” I said to Zora. For some reason, the prospect of dying no longer frightened me.
“We all die.” She tapped her heels against her horse’s sides and rode ahead toward Stephan.
“You all right?” Henrik asked.
“I think so.” I shook my head to clear it of Zora’s ramblings. Fortunetellers. Vampires. I’d never known life outside the castle was so complicated.
“Look,” Henrik said. “More notices.”
The royal announcements listing those considered guilty of crimes against the Crown were stapled to several tree trunks ahead. The Inquisition’s list was growing every day.
Marc trotted beside us. “See those?”
“Yes,” I said. “You’re right.”
“About what?”
“Even if we rescue all these people, it’s not going to stop the Crown. Václav and the Inquisition will not lay down their weapons because we ask them to. They’re committed to this madness. They will continue to round up innocent Protestants and kill them.”
“They will,” Marc conceded.
“This conflict will have to be resolved by force,” I said, finally understanding. “It’s the only way to stop them.”
“It is. That’s why I brought the extra hundred people with us. I probably should have brought more men.... I don’t think we’re walking away from this without a fight.”
* * *
Things grew worse closer to Prague.
The notices on the trees increased. We checked—they weren’t copies of one another—each letter held different names. Names of innocent people. Names of Protestant peasants. Unfortunately, that wasn’t the worst part of our journey; as we rode closer to town we passed several hangings.
Peasants had been hanged from nooses slung over low-lying branches. Each atrocity was clearly marked by the Inquisition. The deceased had signs either hung around their necks or positioned next to the tree, proclaiming them Protestants.
Each time we came across a hanging, my heart dropped. How could this be happening? The gruesomeness and swiftness with which the Inquisition was doling out their punishments was unspeakable. How could they do this much damage across the kingdom so quickly?
The hangings reminded me of my horrific dream. Of all the people I loved hanging from the parapet of the bridge.
Were we walking to our deaths?
By my count, there were twelve peasant hangings by the time we reached our meeting point a few miles from the city. We stopped each time to cut down the bodies and bury them, but it didn’t ease the burden in my heart.
The group of one hundred and thirty rebels camped a half mile off the road, roughly one mile from where the forest ended
and Prague began. If needed, the army could be in the city to help us within the half hour.
Marc had initially wanted the army a few miles deeper in the forest, but something during the solemn ride had changed his mind. He wanted our army closer and I absolutely agreed.
We didn’t know how many of the royal guards were stationed at Prague Castle. We were blind to the number of men we could be up against. The Austrian army hadn’t arrived yet, but they would be here soon, and with the arrival of the Habsburgs, our Protestant army would be drastically outnumbered.
Night fell and our group of thirty left the others and marched through the darkness until we came to the forest’s edge. Stephan stopped our progression with a quick whistle and we gathered around him.
“The camp is directly to the west of town,” Stephan said. “A handful of us should attack from the side. We’ll take out the main guards and signal for the rest of you to come inside.”
“Zora, you and your five men stay back,” Marc ordered. “We may need your bows. I’ll whistle if we need you to strike.”
“Of course.” Zora flipped up her hood and stepped away from the group, disappearing into the darkness.
“Stephan, Henrik, Ivan—pick two men apiece and we’ll head to the camp,” Marc said. “We need to move quickly but quietly. I don’t want anyone knowing we’re here. We can’t have the Royal Army descending on us now.”
I opened my mouth, but Marc put his hand over it.
“You stay put. Once I signal that it’s clear, you, Zora, and the rest of the group help free the prisoners, all right?”
“Fine.” As long as I had a part in the plan, I was happy. I’d be of no use to Marc trying to fight the guards. He’d only be concerned for my safety and it would endanger his own life.
“I’ll see you soon.” He kissed me roughly on the lips before disappearing into the darkness.
Henrik kissed the top of my head. “Stay safe, Mila.”
The men melted into the night. My heartbeat sped up the moment I could no longer see them. I said a quick prayer for their safety.
“Let’s move closer in case Marc whistles for our arrows,” Zora said. “Come Mila, stay by me until we get the signal.”
I followed Zora out of the trees and down the basin that was Prague. The terrain off the main road was rough and wild. The trail was overgrown with weeds.
The sounds and smells of the city were close, but they still seemed far away. How could this be happening so close to the city? Why didn’t the peasants do anything? Why didn’t they fight back? Were they that afraid of the Crown? How could they tolerate having their loved ones unjustly imprisoned in such ghastly conditions so close to their homes?
We knelt near a giant tree sitting alone among the mess of overgrown bushes and grass about fifty yards from town.
“There,” Zora said. “Do you see?”
I focused on where she was pointing.
Down the slope, nestled next to the dozens of red-tiled roofs and the Vltava River, was a crudely erected camp. A fifteen-foot fence circled the imprisonment. Guards were posted at the entry where a single torch burned in the darkness.
I didn’t see Marc and the others. “Do you see them?”
“No.”
“Really?”
“I’m not a cat, Mila. I cannot see in the darkness,” Zora said.
“You should be able to with those eyes,” I muttered.
Zora smiled. “There they are. Do you see them?”
Marc and the others were crouched in the shadows of a two-storied building on the edge of the city. Six guards casually stood at the entrance of the camp. They hadn’t noticed anything yet.
Marc and Stephan slipped from the building, staying in the shadows to the side of the camp’s wire fence. I watched to see if any of the guards had noticed them, but they were still leaning against the fence, talking to one another. They were completely unaware of what was about to happen.
Henrik, Ivan, and two other men moved from the building to the fence. They waited a full minute before they crouched to the entrance.
The guards’ reaction time was slow; before they could pull out their swords to defend themselves, Marc and the others were on them. They disposed of the guards and slipped inside the fence.
“Should we go?” I whispered.
“Not yet. There may be more guards inside. We have to wait for the signal. Be patient.”
That was easier said than done. My eyes roamed over the camp, willing myself to see something in the patches of darkness. What was going on in there? Had more guards ambushed them when they went inside? Maybe Stephan had incorrectly reported the number of guards? Maybe it was a trap?
Ivan appeared in the entrance and waved his hand in the air.
That was our signal.
We sprinted to the camp. The towering fence was surrounded by rows of cages crudely constructed of wood and wire. The prisoners were packed inside the enclosures like animals. We spread out among the rows of cages.
“Do we have keys?” I asked. My shoes sank into the muddy ground.
“Only one set,” Henrik said. “Use your knife blade to pick the lock.”
I trudged through the thick mud to the far row of cages. I glanced up, welcoming the cool rain on my face; a steady drizzle fell from the sky. The moon, hidden behind a cluster of dark clouds, provided no light.
The fishy smell of the Vltava River was everywhere. The rancid, salty smell mixed with the stink of unwashed bodies and urine.
I went to the nearest cage. At least a dozen people were crammed shoulder to shoulder inside the small space.
“Help! Please help me!”
“Over here!”
Arms shoved through the bars.
“I’m getting you out of here!” I said. “Don’t worry.”
Zora expertly picked the lock to the cage beside me. Hands and arms reached out to her, too. How many people had they crammed into these cells?
“Hurry!” Marc’s voice cut through the flowing river and the cries of the prisoners. “Move quickly!”
I had my mother’s dragon dagger. I couldn’t see the garnets, but I ran my thumb over the dragon’s eyes. It had become my lucky charm, which was strange and slightly morbid if I thought about it. Who would’ve guessed that the weapon that killed my mother would mean so much to me?
My blade slammed into the lock. I stabbed at it multiple times, but nothing happened. I wiggled the tip around and prayed for the edge of the blade to unlock the mechanism. I wiggled it. Come on. I twisted the blade again until something clicked and the lock snapped open.
Oh, thank goodness.
I threw down the lock and opened the door. Peasants poured out of the cage like water breaking through a dam. They rushed past me. “Go outside; we have people waiting for you. Be quiet!”
I moved to the next cage and unlocked it with more ease. When I opened the third cage and the flood of prisoners raced past, one of them stopped in front of me.
“Ludmila?”
I didn’t recognize the voice and it was too dark to see any features of the woman’s face. I leaned forward until our noses were practically touching. “Do I know you?”
“It’s Leticia. From the castle.”
Leticia! I reached for her. I wrapped my arms around her and squeezed her tight. I barely knew the woman, but the sight of her brought tears to my eyes. “I’m so sorry you were in there.”
“Thank you,” Leticia sobbed. “Thank you for saving us. I thought we were all going to die in here.”
“Where’s Branka? Have you seen her?”
Leticia sighed. “She’s on the bridge.”
“What?”
“She’s—”
“Everyone out of here!” Marc grabbed my arm as he ran by. I found Leticia’s hand in the darkness and we followed him and the mass of people fleeing from the camp.
Everyone was having trouble sludging through the deep, viscous mud. The light drizzle had turned into a steady rainfall. Once we w
ere on the other side of the fence, I tried to scrape the mud from my shoes. My dress was soaked through and felt like it weighed a hundred pounds. Cold rain mixed with the cool air sent chills over my skin. We needed to get out of there.
“Is that everyone?” Stephan said.
“All clear,” Henrik said. “I did a final check. Everyone is out.”
The hundred prisoners gathered around us. They kept stealing nervous glances at the castle.
I found Marc in the mass of people. “Branka’s at the bridge.”
“What?”
“I found someone from the castle. She told me that Branka’s alive, but she’s at the bridge. They’re holding more prisoners at the base of the parapet. Do you know the spot?”
Marc turned to Stephan. “We have one more place to free before we can leave Prague.”
“What? Where?”
“The parapet. They’re holding people at the bridge, too.”
“On the castle side?”
“No, on the city side,” Marc said. “It doesn’t matter; we can’t leave without them. We have to free them. Grab a few men and we’ll go.”
“I’m coming with you,” I said.
“Mila...” Marc started.
“Branka is there,” I said. “I have to be there when you release her.”
Marc turned to Zora. “Lead these people to our camp in the forest. We will follow right behind.”
“Where are you going?” Zora’s eyes darted to me. “We’ve done what we set out to do.”
“We have one more task.” Marc nodded at her. “I’ll see you in an hour in the forest. If we haven’t returned by then, send help. Understood?”
“Understood.” She addressed the prisoners with a flurry of hand movements and hushed orders. They huddled around her as she directed them into the forest.
“Let’s go,” Marc said.
Marc, Henrik, Stephan, Ivan, and I ran along the banks of the Vltava River. My heartbeat bumped against my chest.