The pig herder looked a little worried by that. And whats that to do with me? he asked. Im just out here herding my pigs.
Do you think men like that will care about that? Royce asked. Every peasant knew what the dukes men could be like, and how dangerous it was to be in their way while they were hunting.
No, the herder said. He looked Royce over. What are they hunting you for, then?
Royce suspected that if he told the boy the truth, it would be too much for him. Yet what else could he do? He could hardly claim to be a poacher.
Im I killed the duke, Royce said, not knowing what else to say. He couldnt ask what he was about to ask without telling this boy the truth. His men are chasing me, and if they catch me, then theyll kill me.
So youre planning to lead them into my pigs? the swineherd said. And what happens to me if Im still here when they get here?
I have an idea for that, Royce said. He jumped down from his horse, holding out the reins to the boy. Take my horse. Ride away from here. Its the best chance both of us have.
You want me to pretend to be you? the swineherd demanded. After what you did? Half the kingdom would be after me.
Royce nodded. The two of them didnt look alike; Royce was much bigger and more heavily muscled, and even though they both had blond hair to their shoulders, it would never be mistaken for the same. Their features were different too: the swine herders round and homely where Royces were square jawed and sharpened by violence.
Not for long. You can ride, cant you?
Aye, my da insisted. I used to canter the cart horse over the fields.
This horse will go a lot faster than a canter, Royce promised, still holding out the reins. Take the horse, ride ahead of them for a while, and then let it go when they cant see you. Theyll never know that it was you on the horse, and they will still be looking for me.
Royce was certain that it would work. If the swineherd kept ahead of the foe, then he would be safe the moment they lost sight of him.
And thats all I would have to do? the swineherd asked. Royce could see that he was considering it.
Just lead them away from any of the villages, he said. I need to get back to mine, and you can return to yours the moment youve lost them.
So youre just looking for a way to get away with murder? the boy asked.
Royce understood. The swineherd wouldnt want to help with anything so callous as that. It wasnt just that though. It hadnt been, even in the moment when hed flung the spear.
They oppress us in every way they can, Royce said. They take and they take, and they never give anything back. The duke took the woman I loved and gave her to his son. He imprisoned me on an island where I saw boys my age slaughtered. I had to fight to the death in a pit! Its time that we changed things. Its time that we made things better.
He could see the boy considering it.
If I dont get back to my village, a lot of people will die, Royce said. But if I go and they follow, even more will. I need your help.
The swineherd took a step forward. Will I be paid for this?
Royce spread his hands. He didnt have anything. If I can find you again afterward, Ill find a way to pay you back. How do I find you?
Im Berwick, from Upper Lesham.
Royce nodded, and that seemed to be enough for the swineherd. He took Royces horse and mounted it, heeling it forward and setting off through the trees in a direction that had nothing to do with any of the villages Royce knew. Royce breathed a sigh of relief.
It was short lived. He still needed to get out of sight. He moved back among the trees, finding a spot among the foliage where he could crouch down in the shadow of a trunk, surrounded by fronds of holly.
He crouched there, perfectly still, barely daring to breathe as he waited. Around him, the pigs continued to forage, and one of them got closer to him, nuzzling at the patch of foliage where he hid.
Get away, Royce whispered, willing the creature to move on. He fell into silence as he heard the sounds of hooves approaching.
Men came into view, all armored and armed, all looking even angrier than they had in the first flush of the chase. Royce truly hoped that he hadnt put the swineherd in too much danger by making him a part of his escape.
The pig continued to move too close to him. Royce thought he could see one of the men there watching it, and he froze so still that he didnt even risk blinking. If the pig reacted to his presence at all, he felt sure that the men would fall on him and kill him.
Then the man looked away, and the soldiers surged forward once again.
Quickly now! one of them called. He cant have gotten far!
The soldiers thundered off, following the path that the swineherd had taken, presumably following his tracks. Even when they went, Royce held still, clutching the grip of his sword, making sure it wasnt some kind of trap designed to lure him out.
Finally, he dared to move, emerging into the clearing and pushing the pigs away from him. He took a moment to look around, trying to get a sense of which direction his village lay in. The deception had bought him some time, but even so, he had to act fast.
He needed to get home before the dukes men killed everyone there.
CHAPTER TWO
Genevieve could only stand silently in the castles great hall as her husband raged. In the moments when he wasnt angry, Altfor was actually quite good looking, with longish, wavy brown hair, aquiline features, and deep, dark eyes. Genevieve always found herself picturing him like this, though, red-faced and furious, as if this was the real him, not the other.
She didnt dare to move, didnt dare to attract his ire, and she clearly wasnt the only one. Around her, the erstwhile dukes servants and hangers-on stood quietly, not wanting to be the first to attract his attention. Even Moira seemed to be hanging back, although she was still right there where Genevieve could see her, closer to Genevieves husband than she was, in every sense.
My father is dead! Altfor yelled out, as if there was anyone there who wouldnt know by now what had happened in the fighting pit. First my brother, and now my father stand murdered by a traitor, and none of you seem to have answers for me.
This anger felt dangerous to Genevieve, too wild and undirected, lashing out in the absence of Royce, trying to find someone to blame. She found herself wishing that Royce were there and grateful that he was not, all at once.
Worse, she felt her heart aching at his absence, wishing that shed been able to do something other than stand alongside her husband and watch him from the side of the pit. A part of her longed to be with Royce right then, and Genevieve knew that she couldnt let Altfor see that. Altfor was angry enough, and she had felt all too clearly just how easily that anger could be directed at her.
Will no one deal with this situation? Altfor demanded.
That is just what I was going to ask, nephew, a voice said, his voice hard.
The man who walked into the room made Genevieve want to pull back at least as much as Altfor did. With Altfor, she wanted to shy away from the heat of his rage, but with this man, there was something cold about him, something that seemed to be made of ice. He was older than Altfor by about twenty years, with thinning hair and a slender frame. He walked with what seemed at first glance to be a stick, but then Genevieve saw the hilt sticking out from a scabbard and realized that it was a longsword, still in its sheath. Something about the way he leaned on it said to Genevieve that it was injury, not age, that made him do it.
Uncle Alistair, Altfor said. We were we were not expecting you.
Altfor actually sounded worried by the presence of the newcomer, and that came as a surprise to Genevieve. He had always seemed so perfectly in control before, but this mans presence seemed to fluster him completely.
Clearly not, the slender man said. His hand strayed over the longsword he leaned on. The part where you did not invite me to your wedding probably had you thinking that I would stay in my estates, avoid the town, and leave you to make a mess of things in the wake of my brothers death. He looked around to Genevieve, his gaze picking her out of the crowd as sharply as a hawks. Congratulations on your marriage, girl. I see that my nephew has a taste for the vacuous.
I you will not speak to me like that, Altfor said. It seemed to take him a moment to remember that he should stand up on Genevieves behalf. Or to my wife. I am the duke!
Alistair stepped over to Genevieve, and now his sword cleared its sheath, looking light in his hands, broad and razor sharp. Genevieve froze in place, barely daring to breathe as Altfors uncle held the blade an inch from her throat.
I could cut this girls throat, and not one of your men would lift a finger to stop me, Alistair said. You certainly would not.
Genevieve didnt have to look across to Altfor to know that it was the truth. He wasnt the kind of husband who would care enough to try to defend her. None of the courtiers would help her, and Moira Moira was staring at her as if she half hoped that Alistair would do it.
Genevieve would have to save herself. Why would you stab me, my lord? she asked.
Why should I not? he said. I mean yes, you are pretty: blonde hair, green eyes, slender, what man would not want you? But peasant girls are hardly difficult to replace.
I was under the impression that my marriage made me more than that, Genevieve said, trying to keep her voice steady in spite of the presence of the blade. Have I done something to offend you?
I do not know, girl; have you? he demanded, and his eyes seemed to be searching Genevieves for something. There was a message sent, revealing the direction that the boy who murdered my brother went in, yet it did not reach me or anyone else until it was far too late. Do you know anything about that?
Genevieve knew everything about that, since it had been she herself who delayed the message. It had been all she had been able to do, and yet it still hadnt felt like enough given all that she felt for Royce. Even so, she managed to school her face to stillness, pretending innocence because that was literally the only defense she had right then.
My lord, I dont understand, she said. You said yourself that I am just a peasant girl; how could I do anything to stop a message like that?
On instinct, she dropped to her knees, moving slowly so that there was no chance of impaling herself upon the blade.
I have been honored by your family, she said. I have been chosen by your nephew, the duke. I have been made into his wife, and so raised in status. I live as I could never have hoped to before. Why would I jeopardize that? If you truly believe me to be a traitor, then strike, my lord. Strike.
Genevieve wore her innocence like a shield, and she just hoped that it would be enough of one to turn aside the sword blow that might otherwise come. She hoped it, and she didnt hope it, because right then maybe a thrust to the heart would have matched everything she felt given how badly things had gone with Royce. She looked up into the eyes of Altfors uncle, and she refused to look away, refused to give any hint of what she had done. He pulled back the sword as if he might make that fatal thrust then lowered his blade.
It seems, Altfor, that your wife has more steel in her than you.
Genevieve managed to breathe again, and rose back to her feet while her husband stalked forward.
Uncle, enough of these games. I am the duke here, and my father
My brother was fool enough to pass on an estate to you, but lets not pretend that makes you a real duke, Alistair said. That requires leadership, discipline, and the respect of your men. You have none of those.
I could order my men to drag you to a dungeon, Altfor snapped.
And I could order them to do the same, Alistair retorted. Tell me, which of us do you think they would obey? My brothers least favorite son, or the brother who has commanded armies? The one who lost his killer, or the one who held the killing wall at Haldermark? A boy, or a man?
Genevieve could guess the answer to that question, and she didnt like the way it might turn out. Like it or not, she was Altfors wife, and if his uncle decided to get rid of him, she had no illusions about what might happen to her. Quickly, she moved across to her husband, putting a hand on his arm in what probably looked like a gesture of support, even as she tried to remind him to hold back.
This duchy has been run into the ground, Alistair said. My brother made mistakes, and until they are corrected, I will see to it that things are run properly. Does any man here wish to dispute my right to do it?
Genevieve couldnt help noticing that his blade was still in his hand, obviously waiting for the first man to say something. Of course, that had to be Altfor.
You expect me to swear fealty to you? Altfor said. You expect me to kneel before you when my father made me the duke?
Two things can make a duke, Alistair snapped. The command of the ruler, or the power to take it. Do you have either, nephew? Or will you kneel?
Genevieve knelt before her husband did, tugging on his arm to pull him down beside her. It wasnt that she cared about Altfors safety, not after all hed done, but right then, she knew that his safety was hers.
Very well, Uncle, Altfor said, through obviously gritted teeth. I will obey. It seems I have no choice.
No, Lord Alistair agreed. You dont have.
His eyes swept around the room, and one by one, the people there knelt. Genevieve saw courtiers do it, and servants. She even saw Moira fall to her knees, and a small, angry part of her wondered if her so-called friend would try her luck seducing Altfors uncle as well as Altfor.
Better, Lord Alistair said. Now, I want more men out finding the boy who killed my brother. An example will be made. No games this time, just the death he deserves.
A messenger ran in, wearing the livery of the household. Genevieve could see him looking back and forth between Altfor and Lord Alistair, obviously trying to decide to whom he should deliver his message. Finally, he made what Genevieve thought was the obvious choice, and turned to Altfors uncle.
My lord, forgive me, he said, but there is rioting in the streets below. People are rising up throughout the former dukes holdings. We need you.
To put down peasants? Lord Alistair said, with a snort. Very well. Gather such men as we can spare from the search, and have them meet me in the courtyard. We will show this rabble what a true duke can do!
He marched from the room, leaning again on his sheathed longsword. Genevieve dared to breathe a sigh of relief as he went, but it was short lived. Altfor was already getting back to his feet, and his anger was palpable.
Get out, all of you! he yelled to the assembled courtiers. Out, and help my uncle put down this revolt, or help in the search for the traitor, but do not be here for me to ask it again!
They began to leave, and Genevieve started to rise to go with them, but she felt Altfors hand on her shoulder, pushing her back down.