The Reign of Trees (25 page)

Chapter Eighteen

It was just after dawn when she arrived back in the nation’s capital. She knew she must look a fright—as did her horse—but she could not be concerned about appearances now.

There was a livery stable near the inn she had stayed at during her previous visit to the capital, but she knew Valencio would look for her there.

As she walked her horse through the streets of the capital, she found that she was heading toward the palace, which was the last direction she should be going. “A livery?” she asked a passerby.

“Two streets over,” he said, gesturing to his left, “but you must hurry or you will miss the announcement.”

“The announcement?” she asked.

“From the king. A general from Burchess arrived early this morning. They have news of the war.”

She could not even offer a nod in reply to the man who had helped her.
This cannot be good
. It felt as if her horse had kicked her in the chest; Illianah wondered if she would survive the next hour.

The stable boy at the livery scolded Illianah for running her horse too hard. “I had no choice,” she responded curtly. “I must get home. My father is on his death bed,” she lied. She wished that
was
the truth, because facing a dying father would be much easier than trying to get King Henrick and his son out of the castle of Andoradda before Burchess attacked.

“You will not be going any farther on this horse; not today at least. You have to let him rest.”

“I cannot,” she said, her voice sounding thick with tears. “I must leave, quickly. As soon as I hear the king’s announcement. Perhaps … perhaps you would be interested in a trade.”

The stable boy looked as if he might laugh. “That is a fine horse you are riding. I do not think we have its equal. And I am certain your father will be furious with you when he finds out you have traded his best horse. He might even come off his death bed and beat you.”

“My ‘father’ will not care,” she said, even though she could envision the rage that would billow from Valencio’s ears when he learns the fate of his horse. “I will take your two best horses for this one.”

This time, the stable boy did laugh. “Your horse is worth more than
one
of mine, but it is not worth
two
.”

She reached into the saddlebag and produced the two candlesticks. “Perhaps these will cover the difference.”

“Perhaps,” he said, “but I will not be caught with stolen goods.”

“They are not stolen.”

“I have no way of knowing that; plus I am not a barterer. Take them to the market and see how much you can fetch for them, then we will talk.”

Illianah heaved a mighty sigh, feeling so tired that she might collapse right there in the hay. But she knew she did not have a choice. This stable boy did not know that she was to be treated with respect, as she did look the part of a thief or a runaway. “Very well,” she said.

Once back on the streets of the city, she got caught up in the crowd as they moved toward the palace. Whispers of speculation flowed through her ears as the citizens tried to guess why the general from Burchess had left the war to visit Vieve. “It must be over,” one woman said.

“But they have not yet taken the capital,” another woman said.

“Perhaps they have come to ask for assistance, like the prince did.”

“They do not need assistance,” one man said, his voice rising above the crowd. “They have Deltegra cornered. My bet is that Deltegra has surrendered.”

Even though the crowd slowed as they were funneled through the gate to the palace courtyard, Illianah did not stop. She pushed her way forward, knowing she could not miss this announcement.

***

King Reginald stood on the balcony next to a man that Illianah recognized from the courts of Burchess. His name was Lord Lidwell, and he sat on King Gregory’s council. The fact that he was here in Vieve meant that he must have earth-shattering news about the war. Illianah knew she was far enough back that he would not recognize her face out of the hundreds of other citizens, but she still stood directly behind the tallest man in her proximity to assure she was not seen.

After an introduction from King Reginald, Lord Lidwell said, “The war with Deltegra has been intense, and sadly, many causalities have been sustained on both sides. While from the start, we thought Deltegra to be rash and foolish in initiating their attack on us, they did surprise us with the strength and ferocity with which they fought. We give them due credit for their courage and tenacity, however, they will now pay for their acts against the crown and people of Burchess.

“King Henrick and his son, Prince Henrick, have wisely surrendered. The capital of Deltegra is now under the control of Prince Harrington, in behalf of King Gregory of Burchess.”

Illianah could hear gasps all around her, but none of them were louder than the sound of her own heart. She cast her eyes to the ground, hoping no one would look in the direction of the painful sound of a dying heart. Surrendered? So soon? She had not expected this. She thought she would have had a few more days before Leif had the castle fully surrounded.

“King Henrick did not want his people to continue to suffer, so he abdicated his throne to Burchess. For his crimes against Burchess, he has been sentenced to the dungeons of his own castle, where he will see his people prosper under the rule of King Gregory. King Henrick will be reminded daily of the inadequacy with which he ruled his kingdom.”

It was as if Illianah’s heart had just taken another direct kick from her horse. King Henrick would not survive long in the dungeon; it was likely that her father knew this as well. King Henrick had been sentenced to a cruel, deliberate death.

“As for Prince Henrick, the charges are quite different. Yes, he helped to instigate the plot against Burchess, and for that he should be sentenced to the dungeon as well. However, he has admitted to helping Princess Illianah of Burchess escape from his castle. He claims he feared for her safety and wanted her to return home to Burchess, yet we believe his acts to be malicious. He knowingly sent a woman—alone—into the forests of Deltegra in the black of night without food or protection. She has not been seen since, and is taken for dead.”

Illianah could not hear anything over than the sound of her labored breathing. She felt faint. Burchess was blaming her death on Donovan. She closed her eyes and prayed that Lord
Lidwell’s
next words would not be what she dreaded the most.

But her prayer was not answered.

“Prince Henrick must be held responsible for the death of Princess Illianah and punished accordingly. He has been sentenced to death by beheading.”

It was as if the entire city inhaled at once. Illianah began to tremble uncontrollably. “No,” she whispered.

“I do understand your astonishment at the sentence, as beheading in Burchess is reserved for the vilest of criminals, but it is our belief that Prince Henrick intentionally preyed upon the trust of our fair princess to lead her away from safety and into the clutches of death. Knowing he could not win the war against King Gregory, Prince Henrick sought to inflict his enemy with the deepest possible pain.

“Prince Henrick will pay for his crime—with his life—at this time tomorrow in the courtyard of the castle at St. Moraine. His death will be witnessed by the people he hurt the most: King Gregory, Prince Harrington, and the people of Princess Illianah’s beloved city. And, per the request of King Henrick, he will witness the death as well, and then be returned in shackles to Deltegra.”

A look of smugness lit upon Lord
Lidwell’s
face, instantly bringing Illianah out of her shock and making her chest burn with rage. How dare they? How dare they do this to two men who committed no crime other than to try to preserve their people from the oppression of her father?

She wanted to challenge Lord Lidwell. She could step forward and reveal her identity, and prove that the charges against Prince Henrick were without warrant. Lord Lidwell knew her and would not deny that she was the princess, but would he get news to St. Moraine in time to save Donovan from death?

Illianah took a step forward, ready to call out to Lidwell, but then she turned and ran. It was without question: Burchess wanted Prince Henrick’s death. His father was unwell and would die soon, but Donovan would live for several more decades and even while locked in a dungeon, he would still pose a threat to his enemies—especially to Prince Harrington, who knew the fondness Prince Henrick had for Illianah. She could not trust Lidwell to save Prince Henrick. She had to do it herself.

She ran all the way back to the livery even though King Reginald had not yet dismissed the crowd. “I need to go
now
,” she said as she ran into the stable. The stable boy looked startled at her haste, but she did not care what he thought. “I need those two horses.”

“How many farlings did the candlesticks fetch?”

“I do not have time to go to market,” she replied.

“Then I cannot …”

“You must. Please, it is most urgent.” The stable hand turned away from her—away from her offer. She wanted to scream and yell and stomp to make him come back. How could he not see that she needed to get to Burchess at once?

The ruby.

She kept it in her pocket so she could touch her hand to that tiny piece of Donovan at any time, but now it was needed to keep Donovan alive more than it was needed to calm her troubled heart. “Wait!” she called out.

The stable boy turned and she held the ruby out in the palm of her hand.

“Is that stolen as well?”

“No,” she said boldly. “It was a gift. From Prince Henrick of Deltegra, who was just sentenced to death.”

The stable boy looked contemplative. “That could fetch you a very high price out in the market, but I have nothing to give you other than horses.”

“That is all I want. I will give you everything I have so I can take your two horses and go … home.”

He squinted at her for a moment and then nodded. “Very well. I will get your horses ready.”

The young man took her ruby and candlesticks and began to saddle the horses. He also filled the saddlebag of one horse with his own lunch. Illianah appreciated the kind gesture, but she did not think she would have time to stop to eat.

She was given instructions on how to handle the horses and was warned to not run them too hard, as she had done with the last horse. The stable boy instructed her to trade out the horses every few hours so one could have a rest from carrying her, that way she could travel farther in one long stretch.

“When you stop at an inn tonight, make certain they feed your horses a mix of ...”

Illianah interrupted, “I will not be stopping. I must go all night if I am to make it there in time.”

“Then both horses will be dead by morning,” he said curtly.

“I am truly sorry,” she said, taking his hand as she climbed into the saddle of the lead horse. “But I must right a terrible wrong … before it is too late.”

***

Taking the direct route from the capital of Vieve to the capital of Burchess was the obvious path. The highway was groomed and well-traveled. She would not be in any danger from highway thieves; but the danger would come from behind. Valencio knew she was Burchessian and would assume she would be running home. He would find his horse in the stable near the palace and know she had continued her journey with two horses. He would search for her on the main highway.

The horse she was riding pranced anxiously as Illianah paused outside the city, trying to make her decision. She would be safe from Valencio if she went through Sanguine, but it would add several hours to her journey. She did not have several hours to spare: she had to be in St. Moraine before the clock went around twice.

Whether or not Valencio had awakened immediately after her departure was the biggest question. If she only had an hour’s lead on him, she would have lost it when she stopped to hear the announcement at the palace. It was all too possible that Valencio would overtake her on the highway.

Sanguine was her only choice.

She took the highway to Liet, but then went into the forest at the border. She did not know her way exactly, but she knew she should keep near the river, which was now frozen in the shallow places, making river crossings easy. However, the deep snow kept her from galloping with her horses, as her heart longed to do.

After several hours, as the mountains began to turn to valleys, she left the sanctuary of the river and headed due east. While still in the wooded hillsides, the sun began to fall from the sky. She shivered and caught sight of her breath in the air. She should be close to Burchess now—close to the lowlands. If she could get to the lowlands before the blackest part of the night, she would not need to worry about freezing to death on the back of her horse. But she continued to worry about Donovan. Could she make it in time to save him?

The hillsides soon rolled into nothingness. The snow vanished. She had made it to Burchess. She stopped the horses and looked back at Deltegra. Being a prisoner there had been the most decisive period of her life: which was rather ironic considering when she had arrived, it had seemed her life would be over. But she could not be the worst thing that ever happened to Donovan. She could not let him die for her.

It was with desperate determination she made the rest of the journey. Her horses were hungry and tired, and she was so fatigued she worried she might die upon her horse. She kept falling asleep in the saddle, so she wound the reins tightly around her hand to stop her from falling to the ground if her body gave way to deep sleep.

Just before dawn, she stopped to switch horses again, yet the secondary horse refused to move another step forward. She offered it bread from her pack, which it refused by flaring her nostrils in such defiance that she stepped back in fear. The horse had the look of a creature gone mad. She had pushed it too far. She had no choice but to release it and send it off in search of water and a pasture. The villages of Burchess were frequently dotting the landscape now and she knew someone would find the horse and either nurse it back to health or put it out if its misery.

But now her lead horse refused to continue on as well. It must have misunderstood her intentions of sending the second horse to pasture. He did not move an inch when she dug her heels into its side, but merely tossed his head back and forth as if he was saying “no.”

Illianah dismounted and offered this horse her bread, which it took. After giving it a minute to stomach the food, she looked the horse square in the eye. “Please, we must go on. I have to be there, or he will die.”
 

Tears quickly flooded her eyes and even though she felt ridiculous for crying to her horse, she did not stop begging him to continue. “Please,” she again whispered.

The horse gave a small whinny, which she took as an affirmative answer; she climbed back into the saddle.

The landscape was completely awake when Illianah arrived in St. Moraine. She pulled the threadbare cloak she had taken from Valencio’s stable over her head and hoped no one would give her a second glance. She looked worse than any of the other travelers heading toward the city, and if anything, people would only be looking at her in disgust.

She looked up at the city she once thought to be her home. It looked as it always did—majestic and stately. The entire city seemed to glimmer in the morning’s light. But its grandeur did not affect Illianah—not in the least. In fact, it sickened her. The city had been built with the sweat and fear of the commoners—people who would be imprisoned if they did not do the King’s bidding. He had enslaved his entire nation and now he would do the same to the good people of Deltegra.

All through the night and the prior day, Illianah had tried to formulate a plan for when she arrived in Burchess, but the only thing she knew for certain was that she needed to show herself as proof of Donovan’s innocence. However, seeing the city changed something within her. There was more to this pilgrimage than just saving his life; she needed to save her people as well.

No one’s eyes seemed to linger on her face as she passed through the city gate. She went through the streets she knew so well and made her way to the castle’s outer wall. The horse would not be permitted to enter, so she came to a stop in a garden outside the wall. When Illianah dismounted, she fell to the ground. Her legs did not have the strength to carry her another step. How would she be able to save Donovan if she could not even walk?

Something pushed upon her back. It was the horse, urging her on. Using the reigns, she pulled herself up and rested her head on the horse’s neck. “Thank you,” she whispered. “You are a good horse. You have done well.” Her throat felt dry just from speaking those few words. She could not imagine how the horse felt.

There was a nearby fountain adorning the garden; Illianah drank from it first, and then allowed the horse to drink. This was a crime punishable by a fine of several gold coins—which she would not be able to pay—but on a day like today, she guessed that the guards of Burchess had more important things to worry about.

She passed through the portcullis without being noticed as well; she then made her way through the crowd to the front of the courtyard. This was the citizen’s courtyard, meaning on certain days of the week, it was open to commoners. The inner ward however, was reserved exclusively for nobility. Illianah had never spent much time out here in the citizen’s courtyard, as she had never liked rubbing shoulders with her inferiors, but as she rubbed shoulders with them now, her heart warmed with a strong feeling of kinship. These were the people who carried Burchess upon their backs. Without them, Burchess would be nothing more than a dry, barren wasteland. Without them,
she
would be nothing.

“Excuse me,” she said repeatedly as she pushed her way to the front. The balcony where her father would sit to watch the proceedings was just fifty feet to her right. But that was not close enough. It was crucial that her father see her instantly.

A cheer went through the crowd before she reached the front. She jumped high to look over the shoulders of the man in front of her and saw guards crossing the courtyard, coming from the tall prison tower. At the center of the group of guards was a man shorter than the rest. His black, wavy hair stood out amidst the silver helmets. Without even seeing his face, she knew it was Donovan, but she stopped herself from crying out to him.

“Not yet,” she whispered. She took a deep breath, but knew it would do nothing to calm her rapidly beating heart.

Just as Donovan was brought to the dais—which elevated him fifteen feet above the crowd so that all could see his demise—a hush fell across the crowd and all took to bended knee. Illianah squatted so she would not be seen defying the king, but she would not take to her knee in honor of the tarnished crown of Burchess.

“Bow to your king,” a guard next to Donovan yelled. The guard then hit Donovan across the back of the legs with the blunt end of a spear, forcing him to the ground. Donovan had no choice but to bow, but he looked up at the king with such defiance that his eyes looked like coals burning with fire.

On the balcony above, her father scowled back at Donovan, but her father also wore a look of satisfaction. Donovan could glare all he liked, but her father’s word would be the last.

Illianah’s heart stopped when she saw Leif come to her father’s side. He looked smug as well. She wished she could spit directly at his face and humiliate him in front of her father and his kingdom. Leif did not deserve his seat on the council of Burchess. He was liar, a murderer, and a cold, conniving bastard.

The guard on the dais pulled Donovan up by his hair and forced him again to his knees, this time bending him over a wood plinth made for one specific purpose. It was likely made from Deltegran wood and would serve as one final reminder to Donovan that his death was brought upon his own head by the very wood he tried to protect.

King Gregory and Prince Harrington took their seats on the balcony. It was then that Illianah saw King Henrick. He looked as if he was already dead and only held up by the vultures who circled him. If she still had a heart, she would give it to the king so that he may live, but she did not know that there was anything in her chest other than a hollow cavity. Her own life felt like it was at an end.

The guard finished tying Donovan to the plinth and then moved to the side of the podium where the executioner held the ax.

Go!

Illianah did not hesitate. She obeyed the voice within her head and shoved through the crowd with such great force that she tripped as she came out into the empty space in front of the dais. She quickly righted herself and ran for the stairs at the side of the podium. Guards rushed at her, but she kept moving forward to where Donovan was strapped to the plinth.

She untied her cloak and let it fall to the ground. “Stop!” she yelled. “You must stop this at once!” Her eyes were not on the crowd, but cast up to the balcony. Her father stood, astonishment upon his face. She knew she hardly looked the part of a princess, but there was no denying the recognition on his face.

“I am Princess Illianah of Burchess,” she said, turning her face to the crowd. “And this man is about to be murdered. He did not send me to my death. He did not maliciously try to inflict pain upon the royals of Burchess. He freed me. He saved me.”

The crowd gasped in one voice, making it sound like wind rushing through the trees of Deltegra. Some of the citizens began to take to their knees, obviously recognizing her as well.

“Illianah.”

She looked down: Donovan had lifted his head so that he could see her, but doing so obviously put him in great pain. She stepped closer and gestured to him as she spoke, “Prince Henrick of Deltegra is innocent of his charges and must not be executed.” She again looked up at her father who was now resting his hands on the edge of the balcony.

Leif came to stand next to her father; the scowl upon the massive prince’s face indicated that he was not happy to see her. Not even a flicker of affection passed through his countenance.

“That man,” she said, pointing to Leif, “wished me dead to gain the sympathies of Liksland and therefore receive their aid in the war. Prince Henrick freed me to save me from falling into the ill hands of Prince Harrington of Liksland, the very man you are lauding with praises for his triumph over the innocent people of Deltegra.”

“Illianah!” Her father’s voice was firm and harsh.

She did not even look at him. “It is true,” she said, her voice louder and bolder. “Burchess waged war on Deltegra, not the other way around.”

Again, gasps came from the crowd, but this time the air seemed to carry disbelief with it.

“Ask my father what King Henrick’s men found when they raided Freidlenburg?” She only looked at her father briefly, but it was long enough to see the anger in his eyes. “The Deltegrans found their lumber and their carts, which had supposedly never been sent across the border. My father, your king, lied to provoke Deltegra into war. He murdered innocent men from Deltegra to hide the evidence of these shipments.”

The people in the crowd had turned their attention away from Illianah and toward the balcony. She cast her eyes up as well. Her father was red-faced, but Leif looked as hard as ever. “Enough!” he yelled, and turned his head to the king. “Will you not stop her lies? She is disillusioned. All one needs is to take a look at her to see that she has gone mad!”

“Have I, Prince Harrington?” she growled back. “How would you know my state of mind since you refused to have me returned to Burchess so you might continue to seek my father’s throne? Does he know of your plans to rule his kingdom, even without me by your side?”

“That is preposterous,” he seethed, but she could see that she had gotten under his skin. He squinted at Illianah as if he was assessing her, but she knew he was really hiding his eyes from the king. Her father would see the guilt embedded within Leif’s eyes; at least she hoped the king would not have lost his powers of discernment.

But her father did not look to Leif. He glowered at her. “Illianah, these are wicked claims you bring forth. What evidence have you?”

“I saw the carts from Deltegra in Freidlenburg, father. I know what you did there.”

The crowd stirred like an angry swarm of bees.

“And I know of how you betrayed Deltegra two years ago. I was to marry Prince Henrick, yet it was denied me because his father discovered you were selling their wood to Liksland at double the cost. You have always wanted their wood, and you forced me to marry Prince Harrington so that you might have reason to use
Liksland’s
most cunning mind.” She saw her father gesture to a guard on the dais; she knew her time was at hand. Her father would no longer allow her to speak out against him in this manner. “You have been planning the demise of Deltegra my entire life, father,” she yelled, her throat feeling as if it was constricting upon itself. “You have been hoping for this very moment when you could see Prince Henrick’s head roll. Well, it will not happen today!”