Lions in the Garden

  “I’ve never given you a reason to doubt me, have I?” Jiri flashed a boyish grin. “He’s my brother. We can trust him. I wanted him to meet up with us because I’m giving part of my cut of the jewels to my dad.”

  “Your dad?

  “Yeah, for the rebellion. I figured it would help them buy food and weapons. I wanted Marc to take it to my father in Kladno.”

  Marc stopped his horse a short distance away. He wore the same clothes he’d worn to the party the night before. Apparently, we weren’t the only ones who hadn’t slept yet. Marc dropped the reins and raised his hands in a show of surrender. “I want to join you.”

  Chapter Eight

  “Why? We’re not sharing our loot with you,” Kristoff said. “I don’t care who your brother is. If Jiri wants to give you his cut for the rebellion, then take it and go.”

  “I don’t want any of your raid.” Marc still hadn’t looked at me. He kept his eyes perfectly trained on Urek and Jiri. It was as if I didn’t exist. The snub infuriated me.

  I’d been used.

  Marc had tricked me into thinking that he cared about me. All so he could help his little brother steal from the king to fund the rebellion. I’d been a pawn in their game.

  “Why do you want to join us?” Urek asked Marc.

  “To help.”

  “With what, Sýkora?” Kristoff spit. He hung back from the others with his hand on the hilt of his sword. “We already did all the hard work. What could you possibly bring to the table?”

  “The entire Bohemian Royal Army is out looking for you because of the jewels and, maybe even more so, because you took her.” Marc finally turned and pointed at me, acknowledging me but not really looking at me.

  His coldness stung. He could’ve been pointing out a tree for all the consideration he gave me. His indifference hurt more than Urek’s strike to my face.

  Marc squinted in the blazing sun. “Word has been sent to the Habsburg monarchy in Vienna. The castle sent a runner late last night.”

  “Austria?” Jiri balked. “Why would they notify Vienna? What do they care?”

  “It appears the Duke of Prucha is on good terms with King Matthias. The duke is livid that his fiancée was stolen from him on his betrothal night.” Marc’s eyes flickered to me, but only for a second.

  Urek scratched his scarred face.

  “Do I have to spell it out for you?” Marc asked. “Protestants kidnapped the Catholic daughter of the High Chancellor and the fiancée to the Duke of Prucha, both of whom are members of the House of Habsburg.”

  “How do you know all this?” Sunlight glinted off Kristoff’s red hair. He refused to hide his suspicions of Marc. It was the first time I’d seen him outwardly hostile.

  “Everyone in the kingdom knows this,” Marc said. “And with one kingdom’s army hot on your tail and another soon to be, I figured you’d need my help to escape.”

  “What do you get out of it?” Urek tapped the tip of his knife against the jewel chest strapped to his horse. “Because I’m not sharing my treasure.”

  “I get to ensure my little brother’s safety,” Marc said simply. “That’s it. I’ll help you get as far away as you need. I’ll fight with you.”

  “And you want nothing in return?” Kristoff asked skeptically.

  “Just my brother’s safety. You should know better than anyone, Kristoff, that I’d do anything to protect him. Once you all are safe, I’ll take my brother’s cut of the jewels to Kladno and be gone. Heaven knows the cause could use the funds.”

  Urek glanced at Jiri, who shrugged in return.

  “Fine by me,” Urek said. “I’m not going to turn down an extra sword. The girl has the whole damn army chasing after us. I’ve half a mind to drown her in the creek and let it be.”

  Marc dismounted from his horse and the brothers embraced. The relief on Marc’s face was clear. After their reunion, Jiri led Marc to the others, but there was no need for introductions. Marc knew the other men, but he seemed to know Kristoff extremely well—their mutual dislike for each other was noticeable. Evidently, the Sýkora brothers were well acquainted with criminals.

  I was having trouble containing my anger. I felt deflated and stupid. Even after I’d recognized Jiri as one of my kidnappers, I’d hoped that somehow, possibly, Marc wasn’t involved in the heist.

  But here Marc was a proclaimed Protestant rebel, discussing which route to take that would bring me farther away from the castle and safely into Germany. My vision went glassy, which made me even angrier. I wouldn’t cry in front of them, especially Marc. I wouldn’t give them the satisfaction of my tears. I turned and faced Kristoff’s horse, swallowing back a sob.

  Ignore them.

  I had to think positive. The Royal Army was searching for me. Right now, as I fought back tears, the king’s army was scouring the forest. Radek had sent word to Austria. King Matthias and the Habsburgs were helping. They would find me. I just had to stay alive long enough for them to do so.

  Radek.

  Guilt replaced my anger. I’d so easily shrugged off his affections. And why? Because I believed I was falling for the blacksmith’s son? It was foolish. Why had I trusted Marc so easily? Because he was handsome and he’d shown the tiniest amount of interest in me?

  I was pathetic.

  I’d known Radek since we were children and look how easily I’d dismissed his affections. Radek was busy buying me dresses in Vienna and what was I doing? Sneaking a rebel thief into the castle in the middle of the night and risking the safety of my family.

  “—but then we came across this one.” Urek pointed his blade at me.

  My ears perked at Urek’s hostile tone. I glanced over my shoulder.

  The men—they numbered four now with Marc—moved toward me as a group. I was still tethered to Kristoff’s horse, so I couldn’t run away. I noticed that while Kristoff and Jiri wore the thin black thread around their wrists, Urek did not.

  “Kristoff said she was important,” Urek said. “I figured she’d be a good bargaining chip in case we get caught. And if not, she’s mighty pretty.”

  “Feisty, though,” Jiri said. “She almost broke Kristoff’s nose when we fled the castle.”

  Urek spun me around. “She started screaming and hollering at the gates. They wouldn’t be after us yet if it weren’t for this wench. I knocked her out, but I still might slice that lovely throat of hers.”

  I glared at Urek. Marc stood to my right, but I refused to acknowledge him.

  Urek tugged the gag from my mouth. “Have something to say, Blue Eyes?”

  My throat was dry and scratchy, but I managed to whisper my threat. “You are all going to hang for this.” My eyes flickered across each one of them and finally stopped on Marc. “My fiancé, the duke, will make certain of it.”

  Marc’s eyes slid to my bruised cheek. A muscle in his jaw bulged, but he turned away. “We should go. It didn’t take long for me to find you. The Royal Army won’t have a problem either.”

  “How’d you find us so easily, anyway?” Kristoff asked. “We stayed off the main road.”

  “Hoof marks. The ground is soft from the rain a few days ago,” Marc said.

  Urek checked the grass. “Hoof marks?”

  “Marc is an excellent tracker,” Jiri said. “He could find anyone, anywhere.”

  Urek’s eyes lingered on Marc. “We’ll cut through the creek along the rocky side of the water so we don’t leave a trail. Then we’ll head west and disappear into the woods.”

  Kristoff untied the rope that tethered me to his stallion.

  “No,” Urek said.

  “What?” Kristoff turned around.

  “Let her walk for a while,” Urek said. “Maybe it will dilute some of that anger.” Water splashed down the front of his guard’s uniform as he drank.

  Kristoff loosened the rope, allowing for more slack, and hopped onto his horse with a shrug. “Keep up, lady. I don’t want to drag you through the rocks.”

  The tug of Kr
istoff’s stallion yanked me forward and, even at the horse’s leisurely pace, I had to practically jog to keep up with the large animal. My stupid ball gown didn’t help either—it was a good ten pounds of extra weight.

  Marc companionably rode beside his brother without a passing glance at me. The grassy slope of the meadow eased downward to the rocky creek bed. Rocks lined both sides of the stream and stones replaced the smooth grass. With the horse tugging me along and the change in terrain, it wasn’t long until I tripped.

  Kristoff twisted on his horse and frowned. “I wasn’t kidding about dragging you. Stop stumbling around back there.”

  My gag hung loosely around my neck, so I was able to curse at Kristoff. The others laughed, but he slowed the stallion’s pace and we faded to the end of the line.

  “You know, you have a very unladylike mouth on you. Especially for the soon-to-be Duchess of Prucha.” Kristoff shook his head. “Do you kiss the duke with that dirty mouth?”

  I ignored him.

  “What do you do all day in the castle?”

  “I don’t plot crimes like you probably do,” I said.

  Kristoff shrugged. “You don’t have to go to work. And you have servants to cook and clean for you. What else is there to do? Do you count your money?”

  “What? No.”

  “Then what do you do?” he pressed.

  “I study and read and do normal things. Will you stop talking to me?”

  He lowered his voice. “Do you go to mass in Saint Vitus Cathedral?”

  “Yes, of course,” I said. “Where else would I go?”

  “Is it beautiful?”

  I lifted my head at this. “It’s the most beautiful church I’ve ever seen. Are you Catholic, Kristoff?”

  He turned away and abruptly ended our conversation. A Catholic rebel? It seemed odd, but I didn’t press the subject. I was glad he’d stopped badgering me with questions.

  We were a sizable distance behind the others, but despite the slow pace, I was still having trouble keeping up. My bruised feet were bleeding inside my slippers. I swallowed again. The presence of the cold water beside me was like dangling a carrot in front of a rabbit. I’d never been so thirsty. A shadow fell across me and I glanced up in the harsh sunlight.

  Marc towered over me on his chestnut stallion. “She needs water,” he said to Kristoff.

  Kristoff shrugged. “Urek didn’t say we could stop.”

  “Has she had anything to drink since you took her last night?”

  “What do you care?”

  Marc’s eyes fell to me. “I don’t. I’m only pointing out a fact.”

  “What’s the problem?” Urek yelled.

  “The girl needs water and rest,” Marc said. “She’s about to faint from exhaustion.”

  Urek shrugged. “I don’t care if she’s tired.”

  “If you don’t stop, you’ll have a dead bargaining chip,” Marc said.

  “I suppose it is hot out.” Kristoff wiped his sweaty brow.

  “Fine. Two-minute break and then we head out.” Urek groaned. “Kristoff, give her some water.”

  Kristoff jumped to the ground, scattering dust and pebbles. He held his jug to my lips and the wonderful warm water slid down my dry throat. I drank eagerly, ignoring the unladylike way the water spilled down my chin.

  “Guess she was thirsty.” Kristoff lifted the container back as I gulped down its contents.

  “We’ve probably gone far enough to lose the hoof trail. We should go back into the forest,” Marc said to Urek. “If we ride at full speed we can get some distance between us and the king’s army.”

  Urek squeezed his reins. “Aren’t you a blacksmith?”

  “Yes.”

  “Then why do you know so much about tracking?”

  Jiri steadied his jumpy horse. “Marc’s been hunting for our family since I was a child. That’s how we had food on the table. If anyone can follow tracks through the forest, it’s him.”

  “How do we know you’re not leading us into a trap?” Kristoff refilled his container in the stream.

  “Because we’re heading away from the castle.” Marc’s voice dripped with annoyance. “And I don’t want to see my little brother, as Ludmila so vividly pointed out, at the end of a rope.”

  Jiri pushed a lock of sandy hair from his eyes. “If the king’s army finds us, we will all hang—Marc, too. Let’s stop arguing and go before they catch us.”

  “We need to make up time for the last few hours,” Marc said. “The girl should ride on a horse. We’re losing too much time by dragging her behind us.”

  Urek bobbed his head in agreement. “Put her on a horse.”

  Kristoff gave me a warning glare as he approached.

  “I can take her with me, if you want,” Marc said to Kristoff.

  “No,” I said quickly.

  Kristoff looked at Urek.

  He shrugged. “I don’t care who she rides with, but let’s go. We have a lot of ground to cover to get to Germany.”

  “It doesn’t matter to me,” Kristoff said. “Marc can get a black eye if he wants. She’s all yours.”

  Marc slid off his horse.

  “You try to run off with her, Sýkora, and I’ll put your brother’s head on a stick and parade it through the streets of Prague,” Urek said.

  Jiri snapped his neck around at Urek. The boy’s jaw slid open, but Urek only shrugged.

  “What would I want with her?” Marc asked. “I’m only concerned with putting as much distance as possible between us and the king’s men.”

  “I don’t want to ride with him,” I said to Urek. “I want to stay on Kristoff’s horse.”

  “Maybe she likes me.” Kristoff grinned. “If that’s the case—”

  “It ain’t about what you want, Blue Eyes,” Urek said. “You’re getting on Sýkora’s horse because I say you are.”

  Marc pulled a dagger from his boot. He infuriated me with each step he took in my direction. He sawed his blade through the rope that connected me to Kristoff’s horse, but my hands were still bound together.

  I couldn’t suppress my anger. Or pass up the opportunity. I reared my bound hands back and swung at Marc. The blow landed in the middle of his chest, thumping against hard muscle. Maybe my strike was a surprise or maybe it was my anger-fueled strength, but the punch knocked him back on his heels.

  The men roared with laughter.

  Marc glanced at me for a split second and then he struck me. His open palm slammed against my ear. The blow was more of a pushing motion than an actual hit, but it knocked me off balance. I stumbled to my knees.

  It wasn’t even close to as hard as Urek’s punch, but Marc’s hit shocked me to my core. My cheeks burned with humiliation, because until that moment I’d still held on to some foolish notion that Marc would never hurt me.

  But he had.

  “Way to teach her, Marc.” Urek chewed and spit. “Knock some sense in her little royal head. Pick her up, Sýkora. Let’s head out.”

  Marc lifted me to my feet and held me by the shoulders. I swung at him again with my bound hands and he backed away like I had the plague. Urek and the others carefully watched our exchange from their horses. We stood eye to eye. I yearned for nothing more than to strike him again, but this time I wanted to hit his face.

  “Don’t try anything else.” Marc’s voice was steely, but his eyes didn’t match his tone. They were . . . pleading.

  I pressed my lips together and bit back the words I wanted to scream at him.

  He led me to his horse and hoisted me onto the stallion. I couldn’t help but be reminded of how he’d saved me in the forest from Niklas and Vitaly and chivalrously escorted me back to Prague a little over a week ago—the irony wasn’t missed.

  Urek ordered Kristoff and Jiri to flank our horse while we rode. Marc hadn’t gained Urek’s trust yet. Marc slipped his arm around my waist and I swatted at his hands, which was hard to do because mine were still bound together.

  “Don’t touch
me! Get your filthy blacksmith hands off me.”

  “Mila, we’re riding too fast; you’re going to fall off.”

  “I’d rather fall to my death than have you touch me. And don’t call me Mila again. I hate you. You lying, traitorous rebel!”

  He sighed.

  “You all right there, Marc?” Kristoff asked.

  “We’re fine.”

  “I told you she was feisty.”

  “And stubborn and pigheaded, too,” Marc added.

  Kristoff laughed.

  After a few moments, Marc lowered his mouth to my ear. “How’s your head? Did you hurt yourself when you fell?”

  “I don’t talk to rebels.”

  He sighed again.

  We rode in silence until we entered a cluster of trees so thick that Kristoff and Jiri could no longer ride beside us. They fell into a protective line in front of and behind our horse.

  “Will you please stop being stubborn and tell me if your head is injured?” Marc whispered.

  “What? Where you struck me?” I asked. “What do you think? It hurts. So does my knee where I cut it on the rocks. Are you happy?”

  “No,” he said tersely. “But I had to do something. You struck me while they were watching us.”

  “Congratulations for knocking me to the ground. I’d clap for you, but my hands are still bound.”

  He squeezed my hip. “You have to keep quiet. You can’t keep antagonizing them. They won’t hesitate to kill you. These men are dangerous.”

  “And yet you and your brother are here with them.” I squirmed away so he’d release me.

  The trees became sparse and our side-by-side escorts returned. I hoped I’d be able to switch riders the next time we stopped. Marc’s betrayal ran too deep. I’d rather be roughly handled by Urek than softly held by Marc.

  Hours ticked by. The sky had faded from clear blue to shades of pinkish purple when Urek stopped to camp for the night. Marc helped me down from the horse and I recoiled when he touched me.

  He threw me an incredulous look and extracted the dagger from his boot. I flinched with the display of the blade, and the frown lines etched across his forehead deepened.

  “Please don’t hit me again, Mila.” Marc cut the rope from around my wrists and I rubbed my raw skin.