A Forest of Wolves (11 page)

Good riddance.

We followed the road out of town and back into the forest. The midafternoon sun penetrated the thick canopy of leaves. I rode in the rear, so I could focus on staying on my horse and not falling off.

“Are you all right?” Henrik asked.

“I'm fine.”

“You don't look fine. I can tell something's bothering you. Are you mad about—”

“I'm f—”

Henrik's head snapped up.

I followed his line of sight.

Marc swore and maneuvered his horse closer to mine.

Henrik flanked my other side as the man with the red hair—the one who had been staring at us in the tavern, the one who wore the black rebellion thread around his wrist—stood in the middle of the trail.

The man was alone, but by the way he was smiling I knew something was terribly wrong.

“Elder Sýkora.” The man bowed. “Sons... Henrik and Marc, I believe. And of course the beautiful Ludmila Nováková, Duchess of Prucha.” He spread his arms out to the forest. “It is my pleasure.”

Marc unsheathed his sword.

Henrik and Petr did the same.

“Ah, ah.” The man wiggled his finger. “I wouldn't do that if I were you.” He motioned and more than twenty men emerged from the dense line of trees. They completely surrounded us.

Petr shook his head. “You're a traitor to the cause.”

“No, I believe in the cause. But I also believe in money. I have a family to feed. Don't take it personally, Petr. My friend has been looking for you all for a while. He's offered a reward to anyone who found Marc and the duchess.”

“Who's your friend?” Henrik asked.

The redheaded man looked to his left. For a moment there was only the thick brush of the forest. Then, out of nowhere, a man walked out from the trees.

My stomach dropped.

“Hello, friends,” the man said.

The voice sent chills down my spine. I hadn't heard that horrible sound since I'd gone to visit Marc in Daliborka Tower. I'd hoped never to see him again.

A hiss escaped Marc's lips. “Urek.”

W
e were dead.

There were too many men for Marc, Henrik, and Petr to fight off. The look of absolute hatred on Urek's scarred face was enough to know he wasn't going to let us walk away.

“The number of men you have under your command is impressive.” Petr's eyes narrowed at Urek. “They must be extremely stupid to follow someone as inadequate as you.”

Urek ran a hand through his greasy, tar-colored hair. “Well... if I'm being honest, the men don't really work for me. I'm out to clear my name, Sýkora. There's been a price on my head since I escaped Daliborka Tower. Thanks to your son, by the way.”

“My men did not intend to release you,” Henrik spat.

“But they did release me, nonetheless.” Urek winked. “Unfortunately, I became the third most wanted person in the Kingdom of Bohemia after blue eyes and Marc here.”

“What do you want?” Marc asked. “You have the crown jewels. You betrayed me and killed my brother. What else do you want from us?”

“I want the price off my head. I don't need the Crown or the Inquisition after me. I'm not involved in this quarrel. I want to go back to stealing and robbing. I want my life to return to normal so much so that I'm willing to admit I shouldn't have gotten so overly ambitious and stolen the crown jewels. It wasn't worth it. That stupid, foolish idea caused this whole mess.”

I squeezed the reins. “What do you have to do to get the price off your head? Turn us over to the Crown?”

“Not exactly.” Urek wiped his brow with a dirty red rag. “And, technically, it's not a deal with the Crown. I made a deal with the duke.”

“You made a deal with Radek?”

“He was quite angry after Marc stole you from him on your wedding night. I understand how that could be embarrassing to a man's reputation. I sent word to the duke and promised to deliver you two if he'd personally pardon me and let me go about my way. He agreed. And that's what I intend to do. We're headed to his castle right now. I'll send word to the duke that I've captured you both and delivered on my promise.”

“We're going to Radek's castle?” Henrik asked.

“Oh no,” I whispered.

“You'll like it there, blue eyes,” Urek said. “You'll feel at home. Now, off your horses.”

My breathing quickened. This was worse than being sent back to Prague Castle. If we were going back to Prague, we could have talked our way out of it, or the men could possibly have fought their way out; it was a long way back to the castle. If we were headed to Prague, there would be time to devise a plan of action. But the estate of Prucha was ten minutes away. Radek was coming and he would show no mercy to any of us, especially not to Marc.

I slid off my horse into Marc's embrace.

“I'll think of something,” he whispered. “Don't worry.”

Our luck had to be running out. How many times had we barely escaped death? This time felt different. It felt final.

The twenty men under Urek's command surrounded the four of us and marched us through the woods. The Sýkora men created a protective cocoon around me, but it was pointless. We were outnumbered.

Urek strolled beside Marc. “I heard you hanged Kristoff.”

“Word travels fast among criminals,” Henrik said.

“Kristoff deserved it,” Marc answered.

Urek laughed. “Of course he deserved it. He was a piece of shit. Snatched a whole bag of jewels from me in the middle of the night. Still...” Urek spit a wad of tar-colored saliva before rearing his hand back and punching Marc in the gut.

Marc doubled over from the blow, but Henrik caught him before he collapsed to the grass. Marc sucked in a gulp of air.

“Kristoff was one of my men and you killed him,” Urek continued. “Is this your older brother?” Urek inspected Henrik's towering frame. “Maybe I'll kill him, too, while you and your father watch.”

Marc whipped around.

“Son.” Petr placed a restraining hand on Marc's shoulder. “Not now.”

“Or ever,” Urek said. “You don't have long, Sýkora. I've sent word. I expect Radek will be joining us by tomorrow morning.”

I slipped my arm around Marc's waist for support. I was terrified, but I was more afraid for Marc. Dry pine needles crunched under our feet as the ground sloped downward. We walked, all the while knowing each step brought us closer to death. The trees gradually thinned and, out of nowhere, the estate of Prucha materialized.

It was exactly the way I remembered it.

The three-story, white-stoned castle sat on the edge of a pond. Sunlight glittered off the water. Colossal hedges carved as statues of Radek's ancestors lined the stone pathway leading to the entrance. Tube-like marsh orchids grew in purple bunches near a giant stone fountain. The smell of fresh lawn and roses burned my nose. The gardens surrounding three-fourths of the property were immaculate. It looked beautiful; magical even.

Dread filled me. It was difficult to put one foot in front of the other. Every fiber of my being shouted at me to run.

“Welcome home, blue eyes.” Urek's beady eyes squinted in the sunlight. He held up a hand to shade them from the strong rays. “From what I hear, this place belongs to you now.” His eyes wandered to Marc. “Why you chose the slums instead of the royal life, I'll never understand. Don't be upset. I wouldn't worry too much about your poor choices. I'm sure the duke will show pity on you.”

We marched up the stone walkway between the towering hedges looming like giants protecting the property. I remembered playing in these gardens with Radek when we were children. We would run and hide without a worry in the world.

“Do you have a plan?” Henrik whispered to Marc.

“Working on it.”

“Might want to speed it up because I've got nothing.” Henrik shook his head. “Radek is not going to be happy to see you two.”

“When we get inside,” Petr said, “both of you keep your mouths shut. Don't antagonize Urek or the duke.”

Two guards opened the giant doors for Urek as if he owned the castle. Half of Urek's men stayed outside, while the others followed us into the marble entryway. Our footsteps echoed through the vast room.

Urek whistled. “Impressive.”

It was. An enormous crystal chandelier hung from the ceiling. Two life-sized mirrors in gilded frames flanked both sides of the room and created multiple images of us. A round cherrywood table held a bouquet of flowers the size of a small child.

Urek didn't stop to appreciate the room; he ushered us through the long hallway and down a narrow corridor to the dining room.

Velvet crimson drapes were tied back, displaying floor-to-ceiling windows. Sunshine filtered into the room and across an extended twenty-seat dining table. Urek marched us to the end of the table and forced us to sit down.

“Tie their hands and feet,” Urek ordered. “Make sure you tie them tight. I don't want any mistakes.”

One of Urek's henchmen provided rope and secured each of us to a chair. Marc was to my left, with Petr and Henrik to my right.

Urek sat beside Marc and plopped his muddy boots on the table. “Nice place, huh?”

Marc didn't respond.

“You never could've provided anything like this for blue eyes, could you?” Urek laughed. “Never in a million years. How many swords would you have to make to buy this place?”

“Stop,” I said.

“You ruined her life, blacksmith,” Urek said. “How does that make you feel? Do you care? If you hadn't come along, she'd be sitting here with the duke eating grapes and concentrating on making an heir every night. Now look at her. You have her following you around the countryside—hungry, poor, and fighting a useless cause. You ruined her life.”

“Shut up,” I hissed. “You don't know anything about me.”

“I know you'll be the death of him.” Urek picked at his teeth.

Marc remained silent.

“Radek will be here in the morning, but how should we spend our time until then? Blue eyes, did you know your husband has a torture chamber?”

I exhaled through my clenched teeth. I didn't know about any torture chamber, but I wasn't surprised. Radek was sadistic; he'd hidden his true self from me for our entire lives. How could I have been so utterly wrong about someone? Was my judgment that bad?

Urek's eyes moved over me from head to toe. “Did you know the duke enjoyed that? I toured the room. Most of the contraptions looked like they'd experienced quite a bit of use.”

“Please let them go,” Petr said. “They are only children.”

“I can't do that, Petr.”

“Leave us be until the duke arrives. He will not be pleased if you harm us.”

“The duke won't mind if I have a little bit of fun before he arrives. It's only fair. I did catch you.” Urek stretched his arms over his head, cracking his knuckles. The ominous bone popping echoed in the cavernous room.

The afternoon sun cast Urek's elongated inky shadow against the opposite wall; it looked like a demon.

“First things first.” Urek walked behind Marc's chair.

“Don't touch her,” Marc warned. His entire body hardened.

“She's not yours, Sýkora. You don't own her. This is another man's wife. But because she's pretending not to be, I'll take a look for myself.” Urek slipped a grubby hand into the top of my dress. He roughly squeezed my breast and snatched my chin with his other hand. He brought his mouth down to mine and kissed me roughly on the lips.

Foul spit filled my mouth. I gagged.

Marc fought against his restraints, but one of Urek's henchmen shoved him back in his chair. “Stay still or we'll slit your throat.”

“Don't touch her!” Henrik yelled. “You son of a bitch!”

Urek pressed his dry lips against mine again. His breath smelled of onions and ale. I squirmed from his grasp, but he held me tight by the chin and breast so I couldn't move.

After I gained control of my gag reflex, I did the next best thing: I bit him.

I clamped my teeth down on his bottom lip until I tasted blood. The coppery warm liquid filled my mouth and dripped down my chin.

He screamed and stumbled back against the table.

“Don't touch me again,” I said.

“You stupid—” Blood dripped from his swollen bottom lip. He stared at his bloody fingers for a long moment before lunging at me. Thick hands squeezed my throat.

“The duke will kill you if you hurt her!” Marc's face filled with panic. “Let her go!”

“You'll hang if you choke her to death.” Petr's voice was calm but stern. “Don't do it, Urek. Think about what you're doing.”

The room spun as the pressure around my throat increased. He squeezed harder. Spots appeared and I blinked to keep my vision intact.

“Let go of her!” Marc screamed.

Urek released his grip around my throat. “If I can't mess up that face... this will have to do.” He closed his fist and struck me against the side of my temple.

A bright white light flashed in front of my eyes like an explosion. I fell over while strapped to the chair and smashed against the floor, jarring my teeth with the impact. A dull roaring filled my ears.

Marc and Henrik screamed.

My vision faded to black.

* * *

My eyelids fluttered.

An excruciating pain claimed the side of my head. I opened my eyes and the world was tilted on its side. What had happened? Henrik's shoes were all I could see.

The room was silent.

I'd been unconscious for several hours; the bright afternoon sunlight had faded to a dull sunset. Multiple candles flickered from the tabletop above me. I could make out Marc and Petr's shoes, too. I didn't see any others. Thankfully, we were the only ones in the room.

For a sickening second, I was scared to look up. Were they dead? None of the shoes had moved. Had Urek killed them? Where was Urek? Why was everyone so quiet?

“Henrik?” I whispered.

His head snapped down. “Mila!” he whispered. “Are you all right? We thought you were—”

“Mila,” Marc breathed.

I couldn't see Marc's face from my overturned chair on the floor, but I heard the anxiety in his voice.

“I'm fine,” I whispered. “Where is Urek?”

“He keeps coming back, waiting for you to wake up,” Henrik said. “Every hour or so.”

“He's scared,” Marc said. “He thought he killed you.” He paused. “We all thought...”

“It's about time.” Urek's voice boomed behind me. “The duchess has finally awoken.”

Heavy footsteps echoed on the marble floor. The sound amplified with each hefty step until they abruptly stopped behind me. He flipped the chair upright.

The movement resembled a hammer smashing against my temple. Vivid lights flashed in the corner of my vision. I squeezed my eyes shut to stop myself from fainting again. A horrible pain pounded against my temples. I opened my jaw to release the pressure in my skull.

“Let me get a look at you,” Urek said.

I forced my eyes open, but my vision was blurred.

Urek's unfocused face was inches from mine.

“Don't touch me,” I mumbled.

Urek's bottom lip boasted a blood-encrusted crescent bite mark. He raised a bushy eyebrow. “I got a little carried away. Thought I killed you. That would have been a less than desirable situation, especially in light of my current arrangement with the duke. But it all worked out. I knocked some sense into your pretty little head and you can't tell I touched you.”