Did he think they lived in mud huts crouched around an open fire? There were gaslights about to be installed on the main streets of Bercarit and a complete restructuring of the sewer system intended for Trouge. As tempted as she was to defend Ryder’s planned civic works, Danika kept her comments to their more immediate concerns.
“And should we thank you for tearing us away from our homes, our husbands, our children?” The corporal’s gaze flicked to her face, surprised. It had apparently never occurred to him that they had lives beyond being captives of the Imperial army. Soldiers seldom got to know those they faced in war—which made sense, if they thought of the enemy as other people, how could they kill? Had she been arranging this…journey, the reason behind changing the soldiers with the horses would be to keep them from getting to know their captives in the forced proximity and relative privacy of the coach. It seemed the Shield commanders thought the same way. Although it left her unable to continue escalating Tagget’s guilt, Danika decided to see the change as a chance to unsettle a greater number of the men.
Linking her fingers in her lap, she fixed Lieutenant Geurin with her best drawing room stare, reminding him they shared a social class. “Are you aware that you’ve left five children crying for their mothers?” Kirstin made a pained sound. Two of the children were her ten-year-old twins, the other three were Stina’s. “Five children whose grief you are directly responsible for.”
“I have deprived a great many children of their fathers,” the lieutenant drawled as they passed over a relatively smooth bit of road. “I hardly think the grief of five tiny abominations will bother me.” She thought she’d controlled her reaction, but when he continued, voice dripping false concern, she realized she had not. “Oh, hadn’t you heard? His Most Imperial Majesty, the Emperor Leopald, has had the church declare your beastmen and your children by beastmen abominations—that which has not passed through the Holy Fire and is unclean. I heard the old Prelate became so concerned about the issue, it killed him. But he was an old man, and these things happen.”
Danika wondered if Geurin understood he’d as much as told her the emperor had the old Prelate killed. Or if he was stupid enough to be bragging about it.
“Abominations have no protection under the law,” he continued. “I, personally, am not a religious man, but some dictates of the church it pleases me to follow. You, personally, are unclean by association. You lie down with dogs…” He grinned, suddenly pleased with himself. “…you get up with fleas. Not a metaphor in this case, is it?”
“It’s a metaphor you’d do well to remember,” Danika snarled, hands curled into fists. Beside her, Corporal Selven stared across the coach at the tears running down Kirstin’s cheeks. It was probably the first time in the corporal’s career that he’d been forced to spend time with the consequences of his actions. And it couldn’t hurt that those consequences were presented by a young and beautiful woman of good birth.
She raised her hands to touch the bruising on her cheek and, shielded by the motion, sighed, It breaks your heart.
A muscle twitched in Selven’s jaw, and he shifted in his seat. She could only see his profile, but he didn’t look happy. Good.
Leaving the corporal to think about what exactly he was involved with, Danika listened to the lieutenant speak of his uncle, high in the emperor’s council. He was, he informed her, Lieutenant Lord Geurin and she wondered how he’d react if informed in turn that she was Lady Hagen. Given that he hadn’t bothered to find out the names of any of his captives, she doubted he’d care.
“When I deliver you to the emperor, His Imperial Majesty will grant me a colonelcy and a regiment.”
“Above those who have worked for it? Above men who have the experience you lack?”
“I don’t need experience!”
She felt the corporal’s leg jerk where it pressed against hers. “Weren’t you supposed to bring six mages back?”
“The sixth mage is Captain Reiter’s problem.”
Danika widened her eyes and looked concerned. “I hope His Imperial Majesty sees it that way.”
“He will!” But he sounded more like a petulant six-year-old than a confident man in his twenties, and the sulky way he settled back into his corner only emphasized the resemblance. He did no more talking, but Danika figured both he and Corporal Selven had enough to consider.
She stared out the window and watched time pass in the small patch of sky.
It had been nearly noon when they’d reached the forest track and not long after that, even considering the delay of Berger’s death, when they’d made the first change from work to post horses. It was almost dark when the horses were changed the second time. As the horses were changed for the third time, the lieutenant ordered the Mage-pack out of the coaches.
They were in an inn yard, an actual inn yard; the inn to the left, the stables to the right, a gate in both of the connecting walls to allow a coach the luxury of driving through without turning. There were one or two dim lights in windows in the black slab of buildings beyond, but Danika expected no help from that quarter. There was just barely room to change all three teams at once. A dozen steaming, sweating horses and their handlers gave the Mage-pack an excuse to huddle together and their guards insufficient geography to separate them.
All the men in sight were Imperial soldiers—even those changing the horses—but moving closer to the spill of light and glancing through the open door into the kitchens, Danika could see a number of local women. It looked like they had fared much worse than her small pack. Although, given the swelling that had forced her left eye nearly shut, the way Kirstin remained closed within herself, a bleeding cut on Jesine’s lip, a certain dishevelment of Annalyse’s clothing, and the care Stina took walking, they didn’t look much better.
The inn yard gave no clue to where they were although, given the size, they had to be on the outskirts of a city. Given the speed they’d been traveling, they had to be out of Pyrahn and over the border into Traiton. Fraris, then, the Duke’s Seat and the only city of any size in the duchy.
“They have fifteen minutes, Sergeant.” The lieutenant flicked open his watch. “For the privy and for food.”
Danika suspected they were intended to use the privy in the same pairs they traveled in—keep them from sharing information, keep them from knowing how their friends were faring—but Jesine slipped in front of Kirstin; Carlsan, clearly annoyed at being forced to guard the privy while the others were already eating, either didn’t notice or didn’t care.
“Has she said anything?” the Healer-mage asked when the door closed.
“No.” Danika raised a brow at the rough wood, but needs must. “She hears what’s being said, though. And she’s reacting.”
“I’d like the time to examine her properly. Annalyse is pregnant.”
It sounded like a non sequitur, but Danika had known Jesine long enough to know differently. “Yes.”
“And so are you. And I think, although it hasn’t been long enough to be certain, I think I am as well.” Jesine shot her a glance heavy with implication.
“We all are. They’re following a prophecy.” She frowned trying to recall the exact words she’d overheard. “When wild and mage together come, one in six or six in one. Empires rise or empires fall, the unborn child begins it all.”
“Six in one?” Jesine stood and let her skirts fall. For all she wore the calm and practical manner taught to Healer-mages, Danika heard hysteria barely held at bay in her laugh. “I certainly hope not. Do the soldiers know?”