Magnes’s face clouded over. “My father won’t realize something’s wrong until I don’t show up with the morning report,” he replied. “Once he finds out that I’m not in my chambers and that no one has seen me, then he’ll start to worry.”
“ And Cook’ll send someone up to tell him I’m gone, and…oh, no!” Jelena exclaimed suddenly. Sick fear twisted her gut. “Magnes, what have I done…
“ What about Claudia?” Magnes scrambled up and grasped his cousin’s shoulders. He seemed to sense that she teetered on the edge of panic and wanted to steady her before she fell off.
Jelena looked up into his face, her eyes full of tears and terror. “Your father will want to question Claudia about my disappearance. Magnes, she’ll be forced into a position where she’ll have to lie to protect me, or else tell him where I’ve gone, and she won’t do that! She’ll lie, and she’ll be so nervous that your father will know she’s lying, and he’ll punish her. I can’t let that happen. I have to go back.”
Magnes shook his head and tightened his grip on her shoulders. “My father may be hard, but he’s not a monster, Cousin. He knows how much Claudia loves you, and he understands the need of a parent to protect a child. He’ll certainly be angry with her, but he won’t hurt Claudia. You don’t have to go back.”
Slowly, Jelena relaxed. She wiped her eyes and sat back down next to the fire. For a time, she said nothing. Overwhelmed by the enormity of what she had done, she was afraid to think too hard on the consequences. Magnes threw another handful of sticks onto the fire, and Jelena stared into the leaping flames, seeing in her mind’s eye her foster mother bowed before Duke Teodorus, trembling in the face of his wrath. The image pierced her heart, but she knew, deep down, that Magnes was right. The duke was a hard man, but he had always treated his servants fairly. Claudia would suffer because of her, but not at the hands of her master.
Magnes coughed to get her attention. She looked at him, and he held out a strawberry, which she took with a smile and ate. The sun hung well above the horizon now, and the air was growing steadily warmer, heralding another fine spring day. The forest had gradually come to life around them as the sun rose, and the dense canopy above them trilled with birdsong. The ancient trees, which had seemed so mysterious and frightening in the darkness of the predawn, now looked almost friendly. They finished off their small meal and followed it up with sips from their water bottles.
“ You’d better try to get some sleep if you can,” Magnes said, wiping his mouth on his sleeve. “I’ll take the first watch.”
“ Shouldn’t we keep moving?” Jelena asked. Despite the weariness she felt after walking all night, she was willing to go on if it meant staying that much further ahead of any pursuit.
“ We have a little time,” Magnes replied confidently. “Remember, first they’ll search the castle. That’ll take awhile. After my father realizes that we’re not there, it will take time to organize a search party, and they won’t pick up our trail right away. All of this presupposes that my father figures out fairly quickly that your disappearance and mine coincide.” Jelena nodded. “So, it’ll be hours before any search actually gets underway. Don’t worry. I won’t let you sleep too long.”
Jelena pulled the leather cap from her head and raked her fingers through her cropped curls. She then arranged her pack to serve as a pillow and lay down on the hard ground. The blankets of her bedroll offered scant padding, and despite her best efforts to clear the area beforehand, many acorns and small rocks remained. Fatigue was enough to overcome discomfort, however, and very quickly, Jelena dropped off to sleep.
The sound of her name spoken in her ear woke her. She opened her eyes to see Magnes’s face hovering close to hers. His expression was grim.
“ Wha…what is it?” she asked blearily. She had been in the midst of a dream-a confused jumble of images and sounds-and wasn’t quite sure if she was truly awake yet.
“ We’ve got to go now, Cousin,” Magnes whispered urgently. Jelena sat up, fully awake now and jittery with alarm. Magnes pointed back toward the gently rolling terrain they had crossed last night. “I spotted them a few moments ago…a group of horsemen, riding this way. I’m not sure they’re from Amsara, but I don’t want to wait around to find out.”
Jelena imagined the thwarted and angry Duke Sebastianus leading the search for the concubine who had dared to defy him by running away. She shivered as she helped Magnes gather their things and obliterate the evidence of their camp.
“ How close are they,” Jelena asked tensely. Several crows began screaming raucously overhead, startling her so that she nearly dropped her long knife as she was trying to secure it at her waist.
“ We’ll have at least a half hour’s lead on them…more once they reach the trees. It’ll be slow going for them, riding through these woods.” Magnes had already smothered the fire with dirt and was busily spreading around the forest litter. “Any decent tracker will be able to tell we’ve been here if he looks closely enough, but let’s hope that they’re just searching and not actually following our trail.” He wiped his hands on his thighs and hoisted his pack onto his back. “Ready?” Jelena nodded eagerly, anxious to get moving.
As they traveled further into the perpetual twilight of the deep woods, it became difficult to judge the sun’s position in the sky, and Jelena soon lost all track of time. They marched along wrapped in a cool, dim bubble, with only the sounds of their footfalls and an occasional birdcall to break the stillness. Once, they startled some small creature that went wildly plunging off into the dense undergrowth.
The trees were getting larger the further into the woods they traveled. The undergrowth steadily diminished, which made for easier going. Jelena was awestruck by the majesty of the deep woods giants. It seemed to her that these trees must have been standing here since the very beginning of the world, when the gods had brought forth order out of the chaos of the Void.
They stopped briefly to rest and drink a little water. Jelena asked Magnes how he knew which direction was the correct one without using the sun. He explained that, as long as they kept the mossy side of the trees behind him, then he knew they were heading north. “Once we reach the river, I’ll be able to see the sky again, and when the stars are out, I’ll know whether we need to go up or downstream to reach the fords.” Jelena fervently hoped that the river was close. She kept imagining that she could hear the sounds of pursuit behind them, drawing ever closer.
They walked in silence for a time. The rhythm of her footsteps lulled Jelena into a trance, so she was unprepared for Magnes’s abrupt halt. “Ow!” she cried as she fetched hard up against her cousin’s back, knocking her forehead on his pack with a painful thump.
“ Shhhh!” he hissed, holding up one hand towards her face. He peered ahead intently, the other hand cupped to his ear. Then, Jelena heard, as well.
Voices.
Magnes signaled that they should change course, away from the still-hidden speakers, and attempt to circle around without being detected. Jelena’s heart slammed against her chest wall and her mouth grew dry with fear. She had no desire to find out whether the owners of those voices were friend or enemy.
Slowly, carefully, they moved forward and around, keeping the faint buzz of conversation always to their left side. Jelena had to focus all of her concentration on moving as quietly as she could, and soon, the underarms of her shirt were soggy with sweat. The sound of her breath roared in her ears, and each tiny crackle of leaf or twig under her boots seemed as loud as a thunderclap. Gradually, a growing awareness of a new sound insinuated itself into her consciousness-a smooth murmur, like wind sighing in the treetops. At the same instant, she realized that she could no longer hear the voices.
Magnes stopped and drew her close against him, setting his lips to her ear. “Can you hear it? The river,” he breathed. She nodded in assent.
A heartbeat later, the forest erupted around them. Jelena barely had time to register what was happening before she was slammed face down into the ground. A grinning, hairy face pressed itself against hers, and she gagged on the putrid odor of rotten teeth and onions. She heard Magnes shout her name, and desperately she struggled to break free, but the body that pinned her to the earth was too heavy. Her efforts seemed to amuse her assailant, who uttered a low, throaty laugh. She felt a hard tug on her shoulders as her attacker pulled at the backpack. She heard the
