Radek watched me recoil from him. He tilted his head, but he didn’t come any closer.
I lifted my chin. “Who told you I had returned?”
“Václav.”
“You’ve seen my father?”
Radek licked his lips. “I met with him this morning. Do you need to see him? He left the castle. He has a few items to take care of this morning, but he should be back by lunch.”
My father must not have said anything to Radek yet, because he didn’t seem upset. Was my father waiting to talk to the king before he accused Radek of murder? If that was the case, Radek had no idea that I’d witnessed his murder of the Protestant pastor. More important, Radek didn’t know about Marc and me. He probably assumed he and I were still engaged.
“Are you all right, Ludmila?” Radek asked. “You seem . . . anxious.”
“I’m fine.”
“Very well. I can’t tell you how pleased I am to see you. I was extremely worried about you. It has been a stressful week for me, but I am glad my fiancée is home safe.” He smiled.
“You searched for me?”
“Day and night. I hardly slept. However, it was disappointing that I wasn’t the one who rescued you.”
“It’s a large forest with many villages.” I couldn’t help it. I felt betrayed. He’d pretended to be someone else for all these years. How could I have missed it? How could I have not known his true self? What did that say about my ability to judge a man’s character?
“I must’ve scoured half the woods searching for you.”
“How thoughtful of you,” I said.
“But all that is in the past now. You are home safe behind the castle’s walls. I’m thankful you were unharmed. Don’t worry, my dear. Those swine blacksmith brothers will never hurt you again.”
“What did you say?”
“The Sýkora brothers.”
“Marc rescued me from the thieves who stole Rudolf’s crown jewels. Did my father not tell you that? Marc saved me. He was the one who brought me back to the castle last night. I’m alive because of him.”
An icy smile chilled Radek’s face. “Of course.”
“Who told you the Sýkora brothers were—?”
“Unfortunately, I have an extremely busy schedule this morning, my darling. I regret I must go. Enjoy your day, Ludmila.” He inclined his head and walked down the adjacent corridor, leaving me standing alone in the hallway.
Slow panic rose inside of me. Something wasn’t right.
I changed my plan and skipped breakfast and my visit to Branka. I needed to get to town. Everything would be fine once I saw Marc. I just needed to see his face. I needed the reassurance that everything was all right and I was only being paranoid.
I rushed upstairs and grabbed Radek’s diamond necklace, smashing the jewelry under a chair leg. I scooped up a handful of diamonds and shoved them in my pocket.
I’d have to bribe my way out.
“I can’t let you outside the gate.” The guard pressed his forehead against the bars. “Sorry. Just following orders.”
“Whose orders?”
“Can’t say.”
“I demand that you tell me,” I said.
“I can’t, Lady Nováková. I apologize, but the orders come from higher than you.”
“Did Radek tell you not to let me out?”
The guard frowned.
I reached into my pocket and pulled out a single diamond. The gem was half the size of a coin. It would feed the guard’s family for over a year. I lowered my voice. “What about now? Will you let me out if I give you one of these?”
“I want two of them.”
“What? How do you know I have two?”
“You do,” he said.
“Oh, fine.”
He eyed the clear gem. “One hour.”
“No. I want to leave now.”
“I can’t let you out right now,” he said. “I have eyes on me. Do you understand? Now, turn around and pretend like I told you no. Act upset. Maybe even shed a tear. Meet me by the back gate in one hour and I’ll let you off the grounds. Bring both diamonds or there’s no deal.”
I stormed away from the gate. I didn’t need to pretend to be upset. If anyone was watching me, they’d know I was angry. Who’d given the order to keep me inside the castle walls? My father? Radek? Surely not the king.
My nerves were on edge and each minute that passed felt like a hundred. What was I going to do for the next hour?
I decided to visit Branka. Maybe I could bring her soup if she wasn’t feeling well.
The servants’ quarters were at the western edge of the grounds. I walked under the low doorway and noticed the blood smeared across the frame just like on the doorways in that small superstitious village. Had that always been there? Why hadn’t I noticed it before? I’d been down here only a handful of times, but certainly I’d remember something so odd.
I walked down the dank hallway and knocked on Branka’s door. “Hello?” I knocked louder. “Branka? Are you in there? It’s me, Mila.”
Something rustled inside the room, but no one answered. “Branka? Are you in there?”
Nothing.
“I’m coming in.” I opened the door.
The space was small—there was room for only two beds on opposite sides of the wall, with one tiny table between them. I didn’t know whom Branka shared a room with, but the other bed was neatly made and empty. My nursemaid of seventeen years lay in the other bed. Her face was black and blue. One of her gray eyes was sealed shut.
“Branka, what happened?” I rushed to her. My hands hovered uselessly over the white bandages wrapped around her midsection. Broken ribs?
Her head lolled to the side. “Mila.” Her voice sounded choked and raspy.
“What happened? Who did this to you?” Why had Leticia told me Branka was sick? Someone had done this to her. Someone had hit her. Who would beat an old woman?
The blood in my veins went cold. “Did Radek do this to you?”
She shook her head. “No.”
“Then who?”
“It doesn’t matter,” she whispered. She patted my hand.
“What? Of course it does.” I smoothed her blanket, wanting to help, but uncertain what else to do. I felt useless. I clenched her hand, rubbing my fingers over her bronze ring. “Did they do this to you because I was kidnapped?”
“You should’ve never come back,” Branka whispered. “What I said to you the night of the ball was wrong. Pack your bags. Find your blacksmith and go. Before they kill you both.”
“Branka? What do you mean? Who hurt you?”
She closed her eyes and refused to answer.
I stood by her bed as she drifted off to sleep. Was she too tired to talk? Or maybe she was afraid.
Either way, I left the room more confused than when I’d entered.
Exactly one hour and two minutes later, I hurried through the crowded streets of Prague. The guard had showed up at the gate on time, and in exchange for two diamonds, he let me out. I was still unnerved about what had happened to Branka, but it made me even more desperate to see Marc.
Branka’s beaten and bruised face made me sick to my stomach. Guilt bombarded me. She’d been beaten because of me, but I didn’t understand why. What was the point? If Radek hadn’t hurt her, then who had? Who cared about an old woman? Was it because of my kidnapping? But that didn’t make sense either—my kidnapping was an accident. It was no one’s fault but mine.
I turned down the curving street and my heart lifted when the blacksmith’s shop came into view. My hood slipped back and I hastily pulled the cloak down with an annoying tug. I had to stay anonymous more than ever now. No one could know I was here. I raced to the door just as it swung open.
“Mila! What are you doing here?” Henrik filled the doorframe. Disheveled blond hair stood in every direction.
“I’m here to see Marc,” I said. Wasn’t that obvious?
Henrik wore the same clothes I’d seen him in yesterday
. Light blond stubble covered his jaw.
“What’s wrong, Henrik?”
“You don’t know?”
“Know what?”
“Mila, they took him,” Henrik whispered.
My heart stopped. It literally stopped. My hands went to my chest and a sob escaped before I could swallow it down. “What are you talking about?”
“The king’s guards came for Marc last night. They arrested him for the theft of Rudolf’s crown jewels and for your kidnapping.”
Chapter Seventeen
Henrik dragged me inside and guided me to the bench. “Are you all right?”
I felt light-headed, but I waved away his hovering. “This has to be a mistake. My father knows Marc isn’t guilty. We told him last night. I don’t understand how this could’ve happened.” I placed my head in my trembling hands. Then it all came crashing down. “Marc knew.”
“What?”
“Marc knew this would happen. Last night after we left my father, he acted strangely. The way he told me good-bye . . . it was as if he knew he wouldn’t see me again. Why would he do that? Why wouldn’t he tell me if he suspected the Crown would come after him?”
Henrik sighed. “To protect you.”
“What? I don’t need protecting.”
“That’s how Marc’s mind works. He doesn’t care about his own well-being as long as the people he loves are safe.”
“Well, that’s stupid, because I care about his well-being.”
Henrik gave me a half smile. “Me, too.”
“What are we going to do? He can’t sit in prison. I’ll go to my father again, or maybe straight to the king this time?”
“Maybe.” Henrik stood. “But we need to go to the town square now.”
“Why?”
“I followed them to the castle when they took Marc last night. I know a guard at the gate. He told me that whenever someone was arrested, judgment was rendered the following morning at eleven sharp in the town square.”
“Judgment already?”
“Your father works fast.”
My jaw slipped open.
It hadn’t registered until Henrik said it. My father, as chancellor, was the last word—except for the king—on all crimes committed in Bohemia. He handed out punishments on a regular basis. He was also in charge of sending out guards to arrest criminals.
My heart hardened to ice.
It was all lies.
Everything my father had told me last night was a complete and absolute lie. Marc knew it, but I was too stupid to realize. My father would never allow me to be with the blacksmith’s son. But charging Marc with a crime he didn’t commit? Why would my father take such an excessive move? It seemed too harsh. There had to be something more that I was missing.
The new information sank in. Marc was charged with a capital crime. That meant . . . I swallowed. “Are they going to—?”
“No, they won’t hang him now. Not yet. They’re only going to determine his guilt or innocence today.”
I needed to see the king immediately. I could no longer trust my father. “What time is it?”
“Twenty minutes to eleven,” Henrik said. “That’s where I was headed before. Come on, we have to go.”
I numbly followed Henrik out the door.
“Keep your hood up,” he said. “It’s not far from here.” He led me down the narrow street. Buildings towered high above us, threatening to topple over and bury us.
I stayed behind Henrik’s large frame and used him as a shield through the mob of people. We weaved in and out of foot traffic. Everyone was headed in the same direction. Evidently, watching a person’s fate being determined was considered entertainment around here.
A colossal astronomical clock was mounted on the wall off the main square. The strange-looking clock with two faces stacked on top of each other depicted both the time and the earth’s movements with the sun and the moon.
The giant dials towered over the crowds watching the golden brass hands ticking away the minutes. Each corner of the clock had four scenes that were considered threats to Prague—a lender with bags of money, a Turk wearing a turban, a mirror that depicted vanity, and, finally, death, represented by a skeleton carrying an hourglass and tolling a bell.
Henrik and I ran past the clock and entered the square. The town square was a wide-open area where seven winding streets converged. The enormous space was lined on all sides by buildings. The crowd—familiar with the proceedings—gathered closely around but left a gaping hole in the center of the square. Henrik shoved through the mob until we reached the edge of the crowd and stared at an insignificant building. The clock was at our backs along with the magnificent Church of Saint Nicholas.
Excitement pulsated through the spectators. A man bumped into me from the side and almost knocked me down. Henrik pulled me under his arm for protection. “Keep your face hidden. These people aren’t fans of the king or his court.”
I sank into my hood and studied the hundreds of faces. I’d initially assumed the excitement was a morbid anticipation for the upcoming judgment of the accused, but Henrik was right. These people didn’t have a thirst for blood. They weren’t eager to see one of their own punished.
They were angry. Furious at the Crown.
A trumpet blared, but I didn’t know where the sound came from until a quick movement caught my eye. The building across from us had a giant platform extending from the door. The top of the stage came to my nose.
A door opened and Marion, the king’s aide, appeared with his trumpet in hand. Following closely behind were Stephan, the general in Rudolf’s army, a group of guards, and, finally, my father.
Václav Novák, the High Chancellor of the Kingdom of Bohemia, was dressed in his official royal uniform, parading the bright red and yellow of Rudolf’s court. He moved to the rear of the platform and allowed the guards to stand in front of him to shield him from the jeers, which had amplified with his presence.
My father examined his fingernails while bread, paper, cabbage, and other odd objects smashed against the sides of the platform.
I couldn’t have hated him more than I did at that moment.
Henrik squeezed my shoulder. “They’re only going to determine Marc’s guilt today. Don’t worry. You’ll have time to deal with your father later, but maybe going straight to the king is a wiser choice.”
I nodded in agreement, too angry to speak.
The crowd parted to the left of the platform at Parizska Street as one of the king’s guards, high on top of an inky black stallion, appeared. The horse trotted with an air of authority, and I didn’t understand the significance until I saw what was behind the guard. Hooked to the back of his horse was a wagon holding two men. My throat constricted when I recognized the back of Marc’s head.
Marc was seated with his hands shackled together in front of him. A thick chain trailed down to the iron manacles around his ankles. The wagon entered the circle. Marc kept his eyes on the ground. His bottom lip was split and bruises covered one side of his jaw.
The moment Marc appeared, Henrik had to restrain me from running to him. I inhaled a calming breath—if Henrik could be strong for Marc, then so could I. I’d quietly listen to the judgment. When it was over, I would go see Rudolf. If I explained to the king what had happened, he’d release Marc. I knew it.
This could be fixed.
The guard ushered the two men out of the wagon.
Henrik cursed. His outburst forced me to pull my eyes from Marc and look at the other prisoner. The blood in my veins boiled.
Urek.
The leader of the jewel thieves was shackled in irons and badly beaten. His eyes were swollen and his nose was broken, but I had no sympathy for his injuries. When had he been caught? Where was Kristoff? Had the crown jewels been returned with Urek’s arrest? Or were they still on the run with Kristoff?
The guard led Marc and Urek in front of the platform. The clock struck eleven. Each chime of the bell sent chills down my spine. Marion
blew the trumpet again and the crowd reluctantly fell silent.
My father stepped out from behind his bodyguards and took center stage. He unrolled a scroll and read from it. “Today, the twentieth day of May, the Year of Our Lord 1610, on behalf of King Rudolf II, the Holy Roman Emperor and King of Bohemia, I hereby decree as follows:
“Urek Havlet and Marc Sýkora, you are charged with the planning and execution of the theft of the Holy Roman Emperor’s Crown Jewels and the kidnapping of Lady Ludmila Nováková, fiancée to Radek IV, Duke of Prucha.”
My hands trembled. I’d told my father last night that Marc had nothing to do with the jewel theft or my kidnapping. Why was he doing this?
Urek snickered.
“I’m not guilty of either of these charges.” Marc’s voice sounded hollow and uninterested. “But you already know that. Don’t you, Václav?”
My father focused on the parchment. He refused to look at the prisoners.
Why would my father pin the theft on Marc? It didn’t make any sense. If the Crown caught Urek, why would they feel the need to go after Marc, whom my father knew was innocent? It couldn’t solely be because of my relationship with Marc. My father wouldn’t imprison an innocent man—would he?
My father’s sickly frame stood in the middle of the platform. “Do you deny your involvement in the kidnapping of Lady Ludmila Nováková, fiancée to Radek IV, Duke of Prucha?”
“Of course I didn’t kidnap her,” Marc said. “I rescued Mila. I love her.”
My father’s head finally lifted from his paper when Marc used my informal name.
Cabbages smashed against the side of the platform. The guards inched in front of my father as the crowd grew unrulier.
The man beside me growled. “Get ’em, Marc!”
I watched the peasant from the corner of my eye. He was a brute of a man. Sunlight reflected off his shiny bald head. His eyes were narrowed at my father. The crowd was angry at the Crown and I finally understood why. They knew the charges against Marc were false. The people surrounding me knew Marc. They were his customers, friends, and neighbors.