A Forest of Wolves (15 page)

A buzzing noise sliced through the air.

An arrow sailed over the crowd and sank deep into Václav's shoulder. The momentum pushed him back and he fell on top of the table he had been using for support. The table broke in two and he crashed to the ground.

Everyone froze.

Another arrow soared through the air and landed on the wooden board right where Radek's hand had been a moment before.

Václav stared at the arrow protruding from his shoulder. He released a delayed scream. Spit bubbled from his mouth as he cried out in agony. He gripped the arrow to pull it out, but a guard stopped him before he ripped it from his flesh.

“Who shot the arrows?” a guard shouted.

The guards were on the defensive. Heads whipped back and forth, scanning the crowd for the culprits.

Radek stared at the arrow in the board. His jaw bulged as he ground his back teeth. The violent rage bubbling near the surface was about to spill over. I could see it transform inside him.

Henrik slipped the noose from his neck and slowly stepped down from the stool. The guard who'd held the sword to Henrik's heart was now searching the crowd for the person responsible for shooting the arrows. Henrik tried to get my attention. He waved his hand and motioned his head to the side again and again.

I didn't know what he wanted me to do.

Marc slid out of the chair and moved toward the front of the crowd. He nodded at his brother.

“Who shot at me?” Radek seized the arrow from the wood and snapped it in two. He slammed the broken shaft to the ground. “Who dares to shoot an arrow at me in my own town?”

I wearily placed my feet on the ground, hoping they could support my weight. The muscles in my legs trembled but managed to hold me upright. I edged away from Radek.

He screamed obscenities at the mob. His face was bright red. “Who shot the arrows? Come forward! I order you! Now!”

The royal guards surrounded Václav in a protective stance. The old man lay helpless on the ground, pressing a hand against the wound to stanch the bleeding. The arrow awkwardly protruded from his body.

“Who shot the arrow?” Radek shoved the table holding the torture devices. It flipped on its side and the metal instruments clanged to the ground.

The crowd parted.

A dark-haired woman sauntered forward with a bow held casually in her hands. A quiver of arrows was strapped to her back. She wore a flowing purple dress, a green robe with a hood, and sandals. Bracelets clinked together as she walked.

“Zora?” I whispered.

The Gypsy glided through the mob with ease. She showed no signs of fear as she came to stand in front of the Inquisition's torture platform. She pushed her linen hood back and boldly displayed her face.

“Who are you?” Radek's eyebrows reached his hairline. He turned to the guards on the platform. “What is this? Some joke?”

“Let them go,” Zora said simply.

“Arrest her!” Václav's hand shot through his protective circle of guards. “Arrest that Gypsy now!”

Zora snapped her painted fingers.

An arrow soared through the air and landed in a guard's thigh. The sharp arrowhead pierced through the chainmail covering the guard's legs. The man was one of the ones comprising the defensive circle surrounding Václav. His thigh was inches from Václav's hand, still pointing at Zora. This arrow came from a different direction than the first two.

“I have three times your men,” Zora said.

“Liar,” Václav spat, but he'd retracted his hand and remained behind his protective line of guards.

Radek had retreated a few steps when the arrow pierced the guard's leg. Glacial blue eyes scanned the dozens of trees surrounding the square.

“My men are hidden throughout this town and forest,” Zora said. “On my command, arrows will rain down upon you.” She pointed to the arrow that had landed near Radek. “My men are excellent shots. We missed on purpose there. Trust me; they will pierce your pupils on my order. Now, I'm not asking again. Let them go.”

“No,” Radek said.

Another arrow glided through the air, embedding itself in a guard's throat. The arrow pierced his skin and surfaced on the other side of his neck.

Radek's ice-blue eyes blinked.

The guard sank to his knees. Gurgles came from his neck wound as he choked on his own blood.

Another arrow sailed through the air and pierced another guard.

“My men have no problem killing your guards. I will not stop them from killing you and the chancellor if you do not take heed. Your rank no longer means anything to us. It will not protect you,” Zora said. “This is your last warning. The next arrow will pierce your heart.”

Radek's head swiveled from side to side. He took another two steps back. “Václav?”

Henrik had moved from the gallows—inch by inch, so he wouldn't bring attention to himself. He beckoned me to come to him.

I edged closer to Henrik. Marc had almost reached Zora in the crowd.

Václav sat on the cobblestone in the protective huddle of guards. One of them tried to pull the arrow from his shoulder.

Everything moved slowly. I noticed every detail. Every facial expression. It was as if time had frozen.

Henrik's hand was outstretched. His fingers beckoned, summoning me to come.

This was my chance. I edged in Henrik's direction.

“Ludmila.”

Chills rippled over me.

“Ludmila. Where are you going?” Radek's eyes landed on me. He'd moved to the other side of the rack, creating a barrier between Zora and himself.

I should've moved quicker. Earlier. Radek had been so caught up in the threat of the arrows that I'd missed my opportunity to escape without him noticing.

“It's all right, Mila.” Zora's voice was clear. Firm.

Our eyes met.

“You can walk away right now... or perhaps this is your chance to stay.” Zora's lush green eyes didn't blink. “It's your choice. Do what you will, but you must make a decision now.”

“She's not staying with them. Are you crazy?” Marc held out his hand to me. “Come on, Mila.”

My eyes went to Henrik, standing on the edge of the platform. His hand was extended toward me, too. His palm was out with his fingers outstretched. He nodded.

“She's a free woman, Marc,” Zora said. “She can do as she pleases. Stay with them or come with us, Mila. But you need to make that choice now.”

“Mila's not staying with them,” Marc repeated. He stepped in my direction, but Zora drew her hand out across his chest to stop him. “Wait.”

“Ludmila,” Radek's voice rose. “Come here now. Do not make me tell you again.”

I shifted my weight to the balls of my feet. I had to make a decision.
Now.
I inhaled and sprinted as fast as I could.

With my movement, Zora snapped her fingers. The sky filled with a parade of arrows. I raced forward, seeing only the outstretched hand.

“Ludmila!” Radek screamed.

Arrows rained down behind me on Václav, Radek, Urek, and the guards.

Radek dropped to the ground and crawled beneath the rack. Arrowheads were buried in the wood above him.

At the snap of Zora's fingers, most of the crowd dispersed. The Prucha residents took cover from the Gypsy's barrage of indiscriminate arrows. Only the guards remained in the square.

I ran across the uneven cobblestones, waiting for Radek to snatch me from behind. Waiting for him to drag me to his black carriage with silver accents. Drag me back to his castle in Prucha, where he would hold me prisoner for the rest of my life.

“Get her!”
Radek's voice boomed out behind me.

Henrik ran forward with his hand extended. I couldn't look back at Radek. I had to get away.

I stretched out my hand. I was so close.
Almost there.

“Mila!” Henrik's eyes grew wide.

I stretched farther.

Henrik's face paled. His lips parted as he said something I couldn't hear. He stretched out to grab my hand.

Our fingers were inches apart.

Marc screamed.

“No!” Henrik yelled.

I didn't understand what was happening, but from the look on Henrik's face I knew something was terribly, horribly wrong.

Then it hit me.

A sharp, stinging pain exploded over my back. I fell at Henrik's feet and understood, even without seeing, that I'd been stabbed with a knife.

T
he excruciating pain was concentrated in one spot, about the size of the palm of my hand directly behind my right shoulder blade. It was an intense, white-hot stinging. Warm, sticky blood saturated the back of my dress and trailed down my lower back.

I lay on my belly sprawled on the hard ground. I squeezed my eyes shut. Was this it? Was I about to die?

Henrik knelt over me, his hands deftly moving over my wound. “I'm sorry, Mila, but this is going to hurt. A lot.” Henrik pried the object out of my back and quickly pressed something against it.

I screamed out, but I didn't have time to contemplate the amount of pain I was in. Strong arms scooped me off the ground.

I groaned.

“You're all right, you're all right,” Henrik mumbled. He ran, carrying me in his arms, through the streets of Prucha. Every jostle ignited a firestorm of agony in my back. Blood leaked down my side.

“Mila!” Marc said.

I opened one eye. Zora and Marc ran beside Henrik.

“Give her to me,” Marc said. “I'll carry her.”

“No. I don't want to jostle her,” Henrik retorted.

“What happened?” I rested my head against Henrik's chest. I needed his solidness to anchor me. I felt dizzy; the earth tilted on its axis as blood leaked out of me like the drip from a faucet. How much blood could one person lose? Would I die in Henrik's arms?

“I can't believe Radek threw a
knife
at you.” Disbelief filled Henrik's voice.

I couldn't believe it either.

“Radek screamed at you, and when you didn't turn around, he launched his knife,” Henrik said. “The damn thing flew through the air as slow as molasses, but I couldn't get to you in time. I'm so sorry.”

“It's not your fault.”

“We need horses,” Marc said to Zora.

“In the woods.”

“Are they following us?” I asked.

A long moment passed before anyone responded.

“No,” Marc said. “Radek retreated to his carriage. I knew he'd run away as soon as the fighting started. I don't see Václav.”

“This way,” Zora said.

The jostling was excruciating. I had to think of something else before the pain overwhelmed me.

Was his aim that good? Had he meant to hit my shoulder? What if the blade had pierced my lung? Or my head? Or some other vital organ? Was that Radek's deathblow? Or simply a warning?

Still... as the blood seeped out of me... I couldn't help but worry; was I dying?

“Stay with me,” Henrik said.

“I'm here,” I mumbled.

“Mila, open your eyes.”

But I didn't have the strength... my eyes remained closed, and eventually I drifted off into the painless darkness.

* * *

I was alive.

I had to be, because if I were dead, I wouldn't be in so much pain. Heaven was painless, wasn't it? Or maybe I was in Hell? I kept my eyes closed despite hearing everyone around me.

How much time had passed? I must've fainted while I was still in Henrik's arms. It wasn't an unreasonable reaction. In the last twenty-four hours, I'd been struck in the temple and knocked unconscious, tortured by being pulled apart by my limbs and stabbed in the back with a knife by my... husband? Former childhood friend? Sadistic killer?

Mentally, I checked myself for injuries. My temple throbbed. My arms and thighs were sore from being drawn in opposing directions, and the knife wound stung whenever I moved. I was covered in sweat and my teeth were chattering—not a good combination.

Yet I was alive.

We had managed to make it out of Prucha. We were away from the Inquisition. Away from Radek, Urek, and Václav. We had escaped. Most of us—we'd lost Petr.

I listened to the others around me. I concentrated and relaxed the muscles in my face so they'd believe I was still sleeping. I was warm, so we were probably inside someone's house, but where?

A crackling fire and a spicy aroma ignited my senses. My stomach growled in anticipation of food. I stretched my fingers; I was lying on some soft, fluffy animal fur. It was comfortable. Maybe I should go back to sleep?

“You didn't see where Urek went?” Marc asked.

“No,” Henrik said. “He slipped away like an eel. Again. To be honest, I was so focused on getting away from Radek and Václav that I didn't notice Urek.”

Marc sighed. “Me either.”

“I'll spread the word about Urek,” Zora said. “We will find him. Especially after what he did to Petr. He will pay, I promise you that.”

“He'll continue to work with Radek,” Marc said.

“Do you think so?”

“Radek won't grant Urek clemency now that we've escaped. I'm sure the deal fell through the moment we ran away. Radek will pay any amount to see us dead.”

Henrik groaned. “How is she?”

A cold hand touched my cheeks and then my forehead.

“Still hot. Should we wake her to see if she'll eat something?”

“Let her sleep,” Zora said. “She needs rest.”

“The wound is bad.” Marc's voice floated from across the room. “I can't believe he stabbed her.”

Henrik cursed under his breath.

“You must find a healer as soon as you get back to Kladno,” Zora said. “Don't worry; she is strong. She will fight through the fever.”

“Zora, how did you know we were in trouble in Prucha?” Henrik's calm voice was near. I sensed him to my right.

“We followed you,” Zora said.

“What?” Marc said. “Why?”

Chair legs dragged across the floor. “We need your help.”

“For what?” Henrik asked.

“Some of our people were captured with the others. We need your help to get them back,” Zora said.

“Captured by who?” Marc asked.

“What others?” Henrik asked at the same moment.

“The Inquisition. Václav. The Crown. Whoever you want to say is responsible for this mess. They've been rounding up innocent people for days. There's a settlement on the Vltava River outside of Prague where they keep everyone who is awaiting trial.”

“Protestants?” Marc asked.

“Yes, and a few of my people, too. The Catholics do not like Gypsies either,” Zora said. “We couldn't break them out of the camp by ourselves. We needed help, so we followed you to Prucha.”

“How many men do you have?” Henrik asked. “That arrow exhibition was impressive.”

Someone caressed my arm. Strong, callused fingers moved up and down the inside of my arm in a tender pet.

Goose bumps rippled over my skin, yet I recognized the touch as foreign.

It was Henrik.

He was soothing me. Where was Marc? I'd heard his voice earlier—what was he doing? Where was he? Why wasn't he beside me?

“I only have boys,” Zora said.

“Boys?” Henrik said incredulously.

“What do you mean by boys?” Marc asked.

“That arrow exhibition was a handful of boys strategically placed around Prucha. It was a tactical maneuver that created the effect that an army was hidden in the forest. That trick won't work for what we must do in Prague. We need actual men. Not boys. Not illusions. I don't have the strength to release those imprisoned in the settlement without your help.” Zora's voice sounded soft. Tired. Scared?

Henrik exhaled. “That speech was the opposite of uplifting.”

“Henrik,” Marc said.

“What?”

Marc sighed. “Please stop talking.”

“Will you help me?” Zora asked. “I have to get my people out of those camps. They will die if we don't act quickly.”

“How many men do you need, Zora?” Marc asked.

“I need an army.”