The Reign of Trees (22 page)

***

“Where is she?”

The voice at her ear was angry and gruff, but there was no doubt whom the voice belonged to. “Donovan! It is I!”

He gasped and the dagger fell to the gravel at her feet. “Illianah!” He grabbed her by the shoulder and spun her around. He looked as if he had just come face to face with her ghost. He swore and then stepped backwards, as if she had pushed him in the chest with all her force, and then he swore again. “How did you? … Where did you?
 
… Holy Deity, Illianah! I thought you were dead!”

His voice was much too loud for a hidden rendezvous in the middle of the night. When she shushed him, he brought his hand to his mouth, groaned and then shook his head. She had hoped he would embrace her, but instead, he took to pacing like a beast within a tiny cage. He took large steps, back and forth, but never traveled more than a few feet away from her. Once more, he swore, but this time it was quieter. “I did not recognize your hand, and then I saw the ruby and I thought … I thought the worst possible fate had befallen you.” He let out a mighty sigh and seemed to recover from the shock. “I thought you were dead—I thought I had sent you off to your death.”

Donovan closed his eyes and let out another sigh. It was as if those added years of misery she had seen etched upon his face when he marched past the inn lit off him like a mighty eagle taking flight. He took a step closer and said, “Why did you not go to the church like I instructed? Why did you not go to
any
church and claim sanctuary? And why, on earth, are you in the capital of Vieve?”

She wanted to laugh at his reaction, as he was clearly experiencing a thousand emotions at once, but instead, tears began to fill her eyes. Trying to keep the tears at bay made her feel as if she had been digging a large trench for an entire decade, but she could not keep the dirt from collapsing back into her efforts. She felt her insides cave, as if she could no longer hold up the sides of the trench. She felt weak and disabled; she took a step backwards into the trunk of a large oak tree, hoping to find the support she needed for what she was about to admit. “I could not go back, Donovan. I could not be a part of Burchess. I did not … trust that my father would believe me. He would send me back to Leif. And to be …” she took a deep breath and then said it in a rush, embarrassed to be saying such things to another man, “I would rather die than have to have to be claimed by that monster again.”

When he exhaled, she could see him bend, as if he was relieved by such news. He stepped forward, coming to the trunk of the tree as well, and stood facing her, his legs touching hers. He reached out for her cheek and gently wiped a tear away. “Oh, Illianah,” he said. “You do not know what it does to my heart to hear you say that.” His eyes looked as bright as the full moon against the blackness of the night. She could see the happiness radiating from his face. His eyes held steadfast on hers and she was no longer ashamed to admit that she had just run away from her husband. From her kingdom. It felt as if Donovan had poured warm tea into her soul. The warmth of his gaze flowed out of her heart and went throughout her entire body, making her feel as if she could melt right into his arms.

But he did not come closer. “You have found your freedom. It is what you have always wanted. I am proud of you. You were brave enough to make a run for it. You have a plan, then? What will you do to sustain your new life?”

The warmth within her body dissipated as she thought of Valencio. Walking away from Donovan and into Valencio’s life felt like walking away from the warmth of a Burchessian summer and into an artic blizzard. She knew she could not tell Donovan of her plans, as faking an engagement to a sailor hardly seemed something to be proud of. “I do not know exactly what I will do; all I know is that I will not be going home to Burchess.”

Donovan smiled his largest smile, so much so that his eyes became small, happy half-moons. “I am happy for you,” he said. But then his smile fell as he looked on her. “Are you not happy?” he asked.

She knew she had not smiled: how could she? Even if she was walking away from the cold-blooded brutality of Burchess, she was not walking into happiness either. “I am,” she lied. “It will just take some time getting used to not being a princess.”

That was not what she had wanted to say. She was not having a difficult time with the thought of no longer being pampered and having finery at her fingertips. She felt vain for saying as much. “Not that I need the title or the elegance …”

“I know, Illianah,” he said, his voice light with laughter. “You have spent the last six months in Deltegra, after all.”

This time she did smile, although only slightly. True, living at the castle of Andoradda had been quite a step down from Burchess, yet she would rather still be there than living as a pauper in Vieve.

Illianah did not want to speak about her future any longer, as it seemed so bleak. “Tell me about your negotiations with King Reginald,” she said. “Has he pledged support?”

Donovan’s face fell. “No. Not yet.”

“Why not? The people here seem to understand your plight.”

“Understanding and supporting are two entirely different things.” Donovan sighed and stepped away from the oak tree. Illianah regretted changing the subject, as it took him away from her. He resumed his pacing, although it was not as frantic this time. “King Reginald agrees that Burchess must be stopped from their tyranny against Deltegra. But he does not think that we would be victorious, even with the assistance of his troops.”

“But that would double your forces.”

“Yes. But the … fierceness with which Prince Harrington leads his troops is unfounded. If you knew of what he did at the village of Cordana …” Donovan looked as if he might be sick from the mere mention of Cordana.

Illianah fixed her eyes on the ground. If Leif had been brutal enough to engulf Deltegra’s troops in fire, she could only imagine what happened once Cordana fell. “The women and children?” she hesitantly asked.

When she looked at Donovan, he was staring off into the distance, as if meeting her eyes would mean he would have to acknowledge what had happened. “Were they … burned to death?” she whispered.

“No,” he answered. Even though his voice was quiet, she could still hear the pain within his heart. “For most, the fire came … after.”

His Adam’s apple bobbed as he tried to swallow the knowledge of what had happened to his people. “My father is quite beside himself,” he said. “He has again taken to his bed.”

Her chest hurt thinking of the king lying in his bed, fevered and gasping for air once again. She knew his body was not strong enough to take another round of such overwhelming grief.

“Parts of the castle of Cordana did burn while under siege. But then his troops entered the village and began to plunder, taking no thoughts of the innocent blood they shed. Then the remainder of the castle and village were burned to cover their monstrosities. But of course, they forced one man to witness their savage crimes and then allowed him to escape and bring us a warning of what will happen next. Prince Harrington’s troops went to Peroso instead of Laencia, where the battle to capture that town is as fierce as it was in Cordana. We had suspected—had hoped—they would try to capture both Peroso and Tabo at the same time, but they have kept their forces united and are giving Peroso quite the attack. They will conquer within days and then they will turn to Tabo. Without our two key mills, we will be crippled in our ability to prosper our people. We will be as good as ruined without them even capturing the capital.”

“I cannot believe King Reginald will not help. Does he wish to have Burchess pushing upon his entire northern border? His kingdom will never be at ease again.”

“Exactly. If we cannot conquer Burchess within Deltegra and push them back into their own border, King Reginald knows that he will not be forgiven for assisting us. King Gregory will declare war on Vieve as well, and it is more than likely that Liksland will join in. While King Reginald does not want to see Deltegra annihilated, he does see that our demise is inevitable and he cannot get caught on the wrong side. He must protect his own kingdom.”

Illianah sank into the tree with such desperation that she could feel the rough bark scratching against her back. King Reginald had already given up on Deltegra. He would cower to her father, knowing that Burchess possessed the ability to crush and conquer any kingdom at will. That was wrong. Her father needed to be stopped.

 
“Perhaps King Reginald would listen to me. Perhaps I could tell him how my father started this war. If King Reginald knew …”

“He does know, Illianah,” Donovan interrupted. “I told him everything. He believes my word. He does not need the word of another witness. Unless … unless you have other evidence. Another confirmation of King Gregory’s or Prince Harrington’s wiliness?”

Her stomach felt as if she had just digested bark from that oak tree. In fact, she felt as if her entire body was turning into the tree and the mighty roots were forcing her into the ground. She did not know that she would ever be able to walk freely again. “No,” she whispered. She had nothing. She had lived an entire life in ignorance to her father’s crimes. Her life had revolved entirely around herself. Was her gown the finest in all of Burchess and would it even rival those in the courts of Arugua? Was she the loveliest in the land? Would Duke Harrington be as smitten by her as the other princes had been? Had she batted her eyes enough, were her cheeks substantially rosy, had her hair been brushed enough to make it look like silk? The thoughts sickened her. How could she have been so hopelessly selfish to not take notice of what was happening within her own country? How could she not have cared that her people were filling her father’s prisons because they could not afford his outrageous taxes? “The only proof I have is from … you,” she realized. Everything she believed about Burchess was given to her by her enemy—her husband’s rival. And yet she had swallowed everything Donovan had told her just like the starving runt he had put in her care.

But there was no doubt within her mind. Donovan would not lie to her. He would not deceive her—but her testimony of Donovan was not enough to take to King Reginald.

“If you go to King Reginald, he would not be enticed to put thousands of his soldiers—and then his citizens—at risk. He would tell you the same thing he has told me: ‘I am sorry for your loss, but I cannot help.’ And then do you know what he would do next, Illianah? He would write to your father and tell him of your whereabouts. And more than that: I fear he would want to find favor with your father. It is likely that King Reginald would tell your father of your treachery. You would be sent to Burchess as a prisoner.”

Illianah hung her head. It was true. If she went to King Reginald, she would be putting herself at risk. But she had just scolded herself for being selfish and vain. Could she really just stand back and watch Donovan’s kingdom unravel without saying a word in its defense? “No, Donovan. King Reginald would listen to me. I know him well. He …”

“As do I. I have come to his court yearly, and he has come to mine. We are friends, but it is obvious that we are not allies.”

“There must be something I can do.”

Donovan stepped toward her again and put his hand upon her shoulder. “You come forward and you give up your freedom. That is something I will never ask you to do.”

“Even if it means the demise of your kingdom?”

His eyes looked as lifeless as the deer she had seen in the alley behind the inn—hung from its hind legs with its innards removed. He stared at her vacantly and then said, “It is not upon your shoulders, Illianah. It is upon mine.”

“You think it is hopeless then?” she asked, her voice cutting through the darkness like the angry sword of a man fighting against betrayal.

He blinked twice, as if she had awakened him from the darkness of his own mind. “No. ’Tis never hopeless. Only difficult.” He tried to smile slightly, but it did not look as if he found courage in his own words.
 

She should have said something to reassure him, but she could not. She could only think of the inevitable. “What will happen if Prince Harrington conquers both mills?”
 

“He will march to Andoradda, but he will not quickly gain victory there. You know the design of the castle: it was meant to be
unbreechable
. We will have enough forces to protect the castle—but to what end? We are not a kingdom without our mills and trees. It is likely that Burchess will surround Andoradda and starve us out. We will not make it through the winter before we either surrender or starve to death. By spring, Deltegra will be absorbed by Burchess and Prince Harrington will sit upon my father’s throne.”

“I thought you said it is not hopeless.” She tried to smile and encourage Donovan, but it did seem so bleak.

The right corner of his mouth lifted slightly. “I do have one more chance to try and convince King Reginald to give us aid before I leave tomorrow. Perhaps he will have a change of heart. I do believe that the people of Deltegra are worthy of a miracle. I must have faith that we will be found favorable in the eyes of God.”

He looked so broken—like his soul was crumbling before her eyes. She reached out for him, putting her hand at the side of his face. He flinched as if he had been shocked by her touch, but then his shoulders relaxed and he seemed to melt into her hand. His eyes closed as her fingers made their way through his hair.

“Run away with me,” she said, her heart again forming words without allowing them to first enter her mind. “We could be free … together.”