Shadow's master

Brian tugged their mount to a halt beside a shallow creek wending through the trees. A shelf of rock formed a small waterfall. Josey climbed down from the horse and stood, feeling a little useless, as Brian stripped the saddle and blanket from his steed, took off the bridle, and let the animal graze on the wild grass. While he inspected its hooves, she asked, “What can I do?”

“Do you know how to hunt? I could go for a juicy venison steak right now, or maybe some roasted boar.”

Josey bit her lip as he teased her. “No. But I can cook.”

It was a little lie, but she figured she had observed enough cooks in her lifetime to concoct something edible.

“No need for that.”

Brian opened the saddle bags he'd dropped on the ground and pulled out a wrapped package. Inside were long strips of jerky, the sort that soldiers ate on the march. He gave her one, and they sat down beside the stream.

“Sorry, Majesty,” he said. “But we can't risk a fire.”

Josey studied the jerky. It was stiff and leathery. Then her stomach overruled her brain, and she took a bite. It was salty and took a bit of chewing to eat, but she finished it and made Brian share another one. Then she dipped her hands into the creek and drank the cold water. It was divine. When she was sated, Josey folded her legs and felt a host of burgeoning aches in her thighs and calves. “So what do we do now?”

Brian leaned back from the water with dripping hands and face. He looked like a different man clean of the grime, his hair wet and pushed back….

“We'll rest and get an early start,” he said. “If we keep moving southeast out of the invaders' path, we should avoid their scouts. Then, whatever you command.”

Josey liked that he deferred to her authority, but he wasn't passive like some of the men at her court who primped and simpered like exotic birds. “What would you do?”

He sat cross-legged and took out his sword, and then began to run a small, flat stone across its edges. His eyes were dark in the night. “I would ride to Othir.”

Part of her agreed with him, wanting to retreat behind the capital's strong walls, but she shook her head. “It's too far. I won't surrender the entirety of the realm to these northerners. They would kill thousands.”

“Aye, but you would live to fight again. These Uthenorians may decide to go home after they've had their fill of plunder.”

“Master Hirsch didn't believe so. He said these men were different from the mercenaries of the north, that they were fighting for something other than gold.”

“Perhaps.”

He lapsed into silence for a few moments, and Josey leaned back on her elbows. A thousand things whirled about in her mind. How many soldiers had escaped the battle alive? Where was Hirsch? What were the invaders doing now? Would they wait for their wounded to recover, or keep marching? Was it going to rain tomorrow?

Brian cleared his throat. “Majesty, I've been searching for a way to talk to you.”

“You are talking to me, Sir Brian.” She smiled, allowing herself to relax, just a little. A tickle formed in her belly and floated up into her chest, warming her despite the chill.

“Yes, but this is difficult. See, when I first saw you, I only saw the empress. But since then I've gotten to know you better. I don't know how courting is done in the south. And we haven't known each other long enough to…” He rapped his knuckles hard against a thigh plate. “Light and Dark! I'm no good at this!”

Josey wrapped her arms around her knees. “I think I know what you're trying to say, but first you should know something.” Am I really going to tell him? Oh, heavens! “There has been someone else.”

He lowered his gaze and nodded several times. “Of course. I should have-”

“But he's gone.”

Josey swallowed as Brian moved closer. A cold sweat broke out across her forehead. She lifted a hand to her brow to hide it, and almost hit Brian in the nose as he leaned forward, mouth opening. He's going to kiss me! Is this what I want? Yes, I think so, but what about Caim and the baby?

Josey was torn, unsure what to do. Whether to let it happen, regardless of the aftermath, or put a stop to it. She started to close her eyes, but Brian jumped to his feet in a rustle of steel scales. “I'm sorry, Majesty. I did not mean to…I'm only a knight from a minor house.”

“That doesn't matter to me!” Josey blurted. Then, quieter, “It doesn't. But there is something else you should know.”

She stood up and touched her stomach. Her heart was pounding in her throat. What are you doing, Josey? You're going to scare him away. Maybe, but he should know the truth before he says anything else.

Before she could speak, Josey heard a sound from the trees, like something moving through the brush. A deer perhaps. Brian looked past her, and then lifted his sword. Josey spun around as a dozen men in rustic garb emerged from the woods. They came from every direction, aiming spears and swords and arrows. Brian tried to intervene his body between her and the ambushers, but there were too many of them. Steel rang out as he batted aside a sword pointed in her direction.

“Majesty,” Brian whispered. “Run when I attack.”

“No!” she hissed at him. There were too many for him. “Don't be crazy.”

“Just run and don't look back.”

Josey grabbed Brian's shoulder with both hands, trying to stop him from launching a suicidal act in her honor. They got entangled, and somehow Brian ended up with one arm around her waist and the other holding his sword up out of her reach.

“Throw down your blade!”

One of the ambushers had stepped out front. He was young, maybe a year or two older than her. Like the others, he wore simple clothing, a shaggy cloak over a buckskin shirt and breeches. He had a short sword with a wide, curved blade, which he held down by his side.

“Do it,” Josey said, and extricated herself from her protector. She was tired. Tired of running, tired of fighting, tired of always being afraid. Though it stung to admit defeat, she wasn't willing to throw away her life, or Brian's, on a final act of bravado. “Put down your weapon, sir.”

Brian frowned at her, but dropped his sword. However, when one of their assailants bent down to take the weapon, Brian slammed his knee upward, catching the man flush in the face and catapulting him back. Like a crack in a dam, the rest of the ambushers rushed in, and Brian vanished under a mob of punching fists and jabbing spear-butts. Josey cried for them to stop and pounded her fists on their backs, but the men ignored her. Too late she remembered Brian's dagger sheathed at her waist. When she reached for the handle, a firm hand closed around her wrist.

“That wouldn't be wise, milady.”

It was the youth who had called for them to disarm in the first place. He watched while his men pinioned Brian to the ground and bound him, but he didn't take the dagger from her. Because I'm no threat, right? Just keep thinking that, little boy.

Josey studied him, looking for a badge or device, but he wore nothing to show his allegiance.

“Who are you?” he asked.

Josey considered lying to pass herself off as some lesser noble's daughter. Brian's sister, perhaps. With luck, they might both be ransomed. But remembering those who had so recently fallen, she couldn't dishonor them with a deception. “I am Josephine, Empress of Nimea. And I would have the name of my captor.”

Quick glances passed between the ambushers. The young swordsman looked from her to Brian and back. “Tell us your true name.”

Josey lifted her chin and straightened up to her full height. “Josephine Frenig Corrinada, the first of my name, Empress of Nimea, Protector of Othir, Lady of Highavon. Now I ask you again, sir, for your name.”

The youth squinted. A faint crop of whiskers covered his chin. Dirt encrusted his neck and matted his long hair. His clothes looked like they had been slept in for days, if not weeks. His entire company, truth be told, was ragged, for all their bluster. He cleared his throat.