Caim looked down at the arrow. The fletching was distinctive.
“You’ve seen this before.”
Liana nodded, a tear running down her cheek. “They first came two summers ago, down from the mountains. They killed everyone they found.”
Caim gazed around, trying to make sense of it. “And the duke allows his people to be slaughtered like this?”
But Liana had left, trudging deeper into the ruined hamlet. Caim took a path around the outermost mounds. Coming around a tall hillock of snow, he stumbled onto a scene of carnage the likes of which he’d never seen. Bodies were impaled on stakes, their twisted limbs drooping toward the ground. None of them looked older than ten. Two were mere infants. Their expressions were horrific. Caim could imagine the screams as they died. Then he looked beyond the bodies, and his fingers curled into painful fists. One wall of a longhouse stood a few paces away. Four corpses were likewise pinned to the wall, facing the children. Frozen streams of blood ran down their nude bodies from gory holes where their breasts had been. Long slits across their bellies exposed the entrails. Mothers, forced to watch the murder of their children, and then denied the mercy of a quick death.
Bile filled Caim’s mouth. He had witnessed many cruelties in his life, including the murder of his best friend, Mat, but nothing like this. This went beyond raiding, beyond war. And it’s happening all across this land.
He imagined Kit’s voice. These are your people, Caim. Your father’s people. Can you turn your back on them? And if you do, what will you become?
The horror turned to anger inside him, and then ignited into a full-on rage. He studied every detail of the scene. This was what Liana’s people were fighting against.
Snow crunched behind him. Caim intercepted Liana before she saw the massacre. She didn’t ask why, but let him lead her in another direction. As they made their way through the clearing, Caim imagined the dead all around him, scores upon scores buried beneath the virgin snow. Come spring, this meadow would become a charnel pit. Swarms of insects would feast and lay their eggs in the bloated flesh of these people who had lived and breathed just a few short weeks ago. As they approached the trees lining the edge of the village, Caim heard a scraping sound half a heartbeat before several dark figures emerged from the vegetation. Snow dusted the hoods of their heavy cloaks. Light glinted off drawn weapons. Seven men in all, unless more remained hidden. Caim counted four bowmen among them, their arrows pointed at him. Liana stiffened at his side.
“Don’t move,” he whispered.
While Liana stood as if frozen in place, Caim shifted his weight away from her. If the archers fired, he didn’t want them hitting her by mistake. He took a small step and reached back for his suete knife.
“Take another step, boyo,” one of the figures said. “And you’ll be food for the crows.”
Caim’s hand tightened on the hilt.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
Josey blinked against the soft light filtering through the chamber’s frosted windows as tears slid down her face. She didn’t bother to wipe them away. They were a comfort, of a sort. She was the empress. She could cry if she wanted.
Doctor Klav had departed her bedchamber only minutes ago, but he hadn’t been able to take his tidings with him. After he left, Amelia looked in on her, but Josey waved her away. The last thing she remembered was fainting in Hubert’s arms, which was the first thing on her mind when she awoke. She didn’t think anything could be worse than the embarrassment of that memory. Then the doctor had entered, and mortification had turned to fear, deeper and more pervasive than anything she’d ever experienced. The fact that she hadn’t been poisoned was no consolation.
With a deep breath, she pushed herself out of bed. She dressed herself, not wanting to be bothered with her maids. She needed time to think, to try to make sense of the shambles her life had become. Instead she got Hubert.
“Majesty,” he began as he entered her chamber, “I’m relieved to see you up and about. We feared the worst after your spell.”
We? That’s right. They hadn’t been alone when she swooned. Josey went to her nightstand and poured some water over her hands, using them to pat her face. She looked around for a cup.
“Hubert, about that, I want you to tell everyone that it was something I ate, but I’m fine now.”
“Of course. Your court will be overjoyed to hear it.”
Remembering the last audience session in the throne room, Josey rather doubted they would, particularly in the case of Lady Philomena. She could picture the woman, kneeling in the great cathedral before the saints and angels, praying for the new empress’s early demise.
“Speaking of which,” Hubert said. “Your war council is scheduled to convene this afternoon, should you feel up to attending.”
Josey hardly heard what he’d said. Her head was full of other thoughts, about herself, about Caim, and about what the future held for them. If anything.
“I’m sorry, Hubert. Yes, I will be there. I’m still feeling a little…”
He leaned forward. “Majesty, is everything all right? The doctor said you were in fine health, yes?”
Josey bit her bottom lip. She had decided to keep this knowledge to herself and pretend everything was normal. At least until she couldn’t hide the problem any longer. Now, standing here, she couldn’t keep it in, not from this man who had risked so much to support her since the day she took the throne. She owed him the truth. She took a deep breath and clasped her hands together to steady them.
“Hubert. I’m… I am with child.”
She watched the progression of thoughts across his face in quick succession. It started with confusion and meandered into denial, and finally landed in the realm of stark terror. She’d felt the same when she heard the news. She’d questioned the doctor extensively until he assured her with solemn dignity that his determination was beyond reproach. It was only after she’d packed him off with a pledge of silence that she was able to wrap her head around the idea. Seeing someone else go through it gave her a better sense of perspective. I’m going to be a mother.
“Uh…” Hubert swallowed and tried again. “Majesty, I know this may seem indelicate, but I must ask. Who… ah…”
Josey frowned, and then a furious blush exploded across her face when she realized what he was getting at.
“It’s Caim’s child, Hubert. Who else do you think?”
“Of course. Forgive me. I wasn’t aware-I was caught by surprise.”
“It’s all right. I was a little taken aback myself when I found out. I think I frightened Doctor Klav with threats of dungeon cells and chain gangs.”
He paced across the length of the room. “We will have to make preparations, naturally. A governess must be selected. The old salon could be converted into a nursery-”
“Hubert!” She smiled. “Relax. We’ll manage it.”
He nodded as he crossed the carpet going the other way. “Your ministers must be notified immediately. This child will be heir to the throne. And I hesitate to mention this, but it brings into question once more the subject of your, ah, marital status.”
Josey bit down on her lip, feeling the urge to strangle him. Instead, she found a porcelain cup and filled it with water. “I warned you not to pursue that subject, Lord Chancellor. And you can tell that to the court if you like!”
“But-”
“Caim!” She couldn’t help raising her voice, even though the door was open. She didn’t care. “I will marry Caim and no one else. Understand?”
Hubert’s eyebrows rose to a peak. “Indeed.”
She pushed a loose strand of hair out of her face. “Good. Now, please leave me in peace for a while. Tell my ladies I wish to be alone.”
He sketched a deep bow and left the room. Josey turned to the window and sipped from the cup. The water
