The general had slashed one attacker across his middle, and the other broke off the engagement and spurred his horse to run away. Brice had located a sword and stood over a dead enemy while searching for another to fight. But there were none.
Prin walked her horse warily to the general’s side as she noted the dead and injured men of her escort. Of the six men, only one appeared unhurt, and a second had one leg covered in blood. He limped, sword in hand. Prin said, “Have that man ride back for help.”
The general said, “Do it.” He climbed down and checked each of his men. Two dead, two more seriously wounded.
Prin and Brice helped with first aid, and Brice dragged the two dead closer to the wounded and laid them with their hands crossed over their chests. Then he took the bow from Prin without a word and followed the men who had attacked them on foot.
Prin said, “I’m sorry.”
“Not your fault we’re at war.”
“How badly are you losing?”
“We can survive until next spring, I believe. No longer.” He knelt at the side of one of the wounded and cut a strip of material from his uniform. He tied a crude bandage with it. “And we have a fool for a King who does not listen.”
“A fool?”
“He spends the taxes he collects on bottles of fine wine and expensive clothing for him and his court.”
Prin didn’t like the anger in the voice, but if the words were true, was she doing the right thing in going to his aid? “He’s my cousin. What else do I need to know about him?”
“He has never stepped in horseshit in his life, nor has he done a day’s work. He sits on his throne and makes impossible demands of us—then punishes us if we fail. Does that tell you the kind of man he is?”
Prin helped the general stem the bleeding of another wounded man. He’d taken a stab in one arm and an arrow on the other, but both wounds should heal. As she worked, she asked, “Does this sort of attack happen often?”
“They’re bolder every day.”
Brice returned, lips pursed tightly together.
Prin noticed he only carried a single arrow. Between Sara, her, and Brice, he usually was the best at archery, Prin the best throwing knives, and Sara the most diligent in using magic. However, Prin was the most deceptive and determined.
She said, “We’ll continue on while you care for your men.”
The general stood. “No. Help is on the way, and there is little we can do here. You still need me to get you to the King.”
The three of them departed a short while later, armed with swords, bows, and a desire for speed. Brice rode ahead, the general insisted on the rear, and Prin took the middle. She kept an eye on the general to make sure he kept up, but she needn’t have feared.
Once an arrow whizzed past Brice, but by the time he shouted a warning and turned to fight, nobody was to be seen. If there was more than one attacker, they hid and waited. Brice held his horse back from charging into the brush, knowing that was probably what they wanted and where they had set an ambush.
The terrain changed to rolling hills covered in trees. The shallow valleys held farms of every sort, most struggling to get by. While they grew crops, they lacked the commerce to buy quality equipment, and their produce brought in little coin because nobody in the kingdom had a spare coin to spend.
General Case explained how taxes rose with each day of the war. Paying soldiers, feeding them and providing weapons cost the King enormous amounts of money, yet they were losing the war. Other kingdoms refused to trade with them, fearing they would lose their investments or upset Ansel, the projected winner.
Some people in the capital city were talking openly of surrender to Ansel, where there might be tax relief and rulers who understood the needs of the people. Prin listened and considered her role, which should be nothing, but it wasn’t like her to sit aside and allow things to happen without becoming involved.
They rode all day without a break, only pausing to give the horses short rests and drinks at streams they passed. The countryside turned into more farmland. Most of the farms appeared to have been prosperous at one time, but signs of neglect were everywhere. Buildings stood unpainted. Pastures were overgrown with weeds and grass, but few animals grazed in them. Even the farmers were thin and slow to wave or react.
“They’re tired,” the general said at one point. “Giving up.”
Brice pointed to where three adjoining farms appeared abandoned. Vines covered the houses and grew up the sides of outbuildings and barns. Whole sections of fences lay in the weeds. “What happened?”
“Taxes. The King seizes the lands and buildings when farmers can’t pay.”
Brice flashed a look of confusion at Prin. “How does that help?”
The general produced a wan smile. “Exactly.”
Prin couldn’t help herself. “Wouldn’t it be better for the King if he kept the farmers working their lands? Maybe appointing an overseer?”
The general said, “When you are Queen, what will you do?”
A good question. One that would occupy her mind for days and weeks, she felt sure. “I don’t know.”
He persisted, “Will you even be aware of such situations?”
“Meaning?” she asked.
“Will you remain living in splendor and ignorance of what is happening in your kingdom? If so, how will you know? Will you punish those who try to tell you the truth?”
Prin glanced at Brice. “I have him to tell me the truth. A brother who will always tell me, no matter how little I wish to hear it. And there will be others.”
The general was watering his horse. The snorts of the horse and the whisper of the stream almost covered up the words he muttered as he turned away. “Are you so sure?”
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
“Are you so sure?” The murmured words echoed in her mind as Prin turned to the general. “I already have four people in my life who do not cater to me, or lie to make me feel good, but I think I see what you mean. A King or Queen can throw you into the deepest dungeon in the castle for disagreeing, or for any other reason.”
The general said, “A wise Queen would seek out those few friends, and more. The truth is something even a general in the King’s army seldom hears. My men and officers only wish to tell me what they think I want to hear. A King or Queen must gather about them those who are trusted—and who feel free to express their ideas without punishment.”
Prin said, “You’re a very clever and very smart man. Those two things are not always the same thing, but you have lectured me well, without speaking down to me.”
“Forgive me. I had no right.”
“Yet, those were some of wisest words I’ve heard, and I understand they were spoken with the best of intentions. If you ever cease to serve your King, you only have to look to the Valley of Wren for a place on my staff.”
He paused, then plunged ahead as if the next question might upset her, “Where did you learn to fight like that?”
“I trained every day for five years. Often with the best teachers, especially a man who gave me no quarter and never allowed me to quit or mention I was a woman and a princess, and therefore needed special treatment. He demanded I excel in every aspect, but most of all he taught me that anyone can learn to use weapons—but only a warrior learns to accept cuts and bruises in a battle and continue to fight.”