No longer in fear of being chased from behind, Ransom and his knights rode over the hills of the Occitanian countryside. They trampled through fields of summer wheat and rode through orchards thick with plums and other fruits. Villagers, startled by their sudden appearance, fled in terror and bolted themselves in their cottages, but Ransom had no desire to harass the people. He knew the road to the Vexin, and when they reached it, the horses thundered toward the fortress of Auxaunce. They passed a few of the king’s mercenaries, riding on lamed horses, and the men pointed in the direction the king’s army had already passed.
Ransom could tell Dappled was weary from the constant pressure of riding, but he was a desert-bred horse and refused to slacken his pace. Some of Ransom’s men fell behind, their destriers unable to match the awesome power of his mount, but Ransom felt a fiery determination to reach his king. Lady Alix was with Estian, and if they had come from Chessy, there was no way Ransom could overtake them. He worried that the king’s life was in grave danger.
Estian had played him like a minstrel plucks a lute, using his sense of honor against him. Given what he knew of Lord Montfort, he suspected the duchess and her husband had been deceived as well.
When they were about a league or so from Auxaunce, they reached the spot in the road where Lord Rakestraw, the queen dowager’s former constable, had been ambushed by DeVaux’s men. Ransom recognized the hedge where he had taken his last stand, after all his companions were slain. His past suddenly reared up in his mind, and he could almost see his younger self, defending himself with Fountain magic he did not yet understand.
A tingle of magic responded to the memory, then reached out and revealed to him the presence of riders headed their way. In the distance, he saw knights approaching them.
Ransom reined in sharply, sweat streaking down his cheeks. He turned and saw his own men in disarray behind him, some still far in the distance. Even Dearley struggled to keep up with him, but now that he’d stopped, his first knight quickly reached him.
“How many do you think there are?” Dearley asked, out of breath.
Ransom didn’t feel the sense of danger. “Gather the knights around us. Let’s block the road.”
“Yes,” Dearley agreed. He turned his horse around and gave the orders. Knights began to gather quickly, and those with lances fixed to their stirrups withdrew them and prepared to charge.
Ransom gazed down the road, trying to understand whom the knights belonged to. And then he recognized the decorative armor of the man who led them, once pristine and now dented and thick with dust. It was James Wigant, Duke of North Cumbria.
“It’s Lord James,” Ransom said. “Follow me.”
With the lead knights surrounding him, he started at a slow trot and noticed a long line of warriors following behind the duke of the North. Confusion rippled through Ransom’s chest. Were they retreating?
As they closed together, Ransom saw that James had someone riding behind him, a young lad whom he instantly recognized. Although he was quite a bit older than on their last meeting, his identity was unmistakable. This was Drew, Constance’s son. Ransom blinked in astonishment. The boy peered around Lord James, his face brightening when he saw Ransom.
“I know that knight,” said Drew, giving him a wave and a smile.
“I would hope so,” said James. “He’s an ugly man but not nearly as ugly as his horse.”
Ransom gaped as they stopped in front of each other. “I don’t believe my eyes.”
“The battle is over,” said James with a grin. “When word came of Estian’s trickery, I was sure we’d find you already in the Vexin, holding back the Occitanian army all by yourself. Instead, we came on them so fast we caught them by surprise. We won!”
Ransom didn’t know what to say. He was relieved but also dumbfounded. “They were unaware?” Estian had the Wizr board. Surely he would have seen Jon-Landon coming.
James looked smug. “They were totally caught off guard, had no idea we were coming. To be honest, I thought the king was half-mad for even trying it. But we came, we saw, we trampled their defenders, and now we have two hundred hostages. Two hundred knights!” He beamed with pride. “I’m escorting them back to Beestone with half of the army. The ransoms alone will be worth a fortune.”
Still, the news seemed too good to be true. As much as he wanted to believe it, it felt like part of a larger machination.
Ransom looked at him earnestly. “Was Estian there?”
“He arrived too late, no doubt from your interview with him.”
“So Claire’s warning came in time?”
“Indeed. When Jon-Landon learned that Auxaunce was under attack, he mustered every horse within the vicinity, and we rode straight through Occitania. I don’t think Estian expected such a decisive action. He probably counted on your meeting at Chessy being a sufficient deception. But no, the king has fought his first battle. And won. He’s with Emiloh back at the fortress and has men repairing the damage to the castle. This was a decided victory, Ransom. And for once, you weren’t there to save the day.”
James had a way of knowing where to hurt a man. They had become allies—family—but the smug look on James’s face reminded Ransom of the boy he’d been.
“I’m happy for you,” Ransom said. “This alone may turn the tide of the war.”
“Oh, it will,” said James. “Two hundred knights. That is a sizable host, and it will cost Estian a sizable sum. And we have the boy.” He glanced back at Drew and gave a friendly smile. “No longer can Estian claim to fight on his behalf.”
Ransom couldn’t remember the lad’s age, but he seemed to be around twelve. Why had Estian sent him into the siege? Was he there to prevent Brythonica from interfering? Surely Constance and Lord Montfort would be discomfited by the part they’d played, however unwilling in Estian’s sabotage.
James looked back at the men and steeds who had come to a halt behind him. He raised his hand and prepared to ride onward. “To Beestone! There, to claim our rewards.”
Ransom looked into Drew’s eyes. “Your mother misses you, lad,” he said softly. “She wanted me to tell you that. And how much she loves you.”
Drew’s face fell. “I miss her, Lord Ransom.”
“I know you do, lad.”
Ransom had his knights depart from the road so that James and his army and their prisoners could pass. As they did, he watched the defeated eyes, the sullen looks from the Occitanians as they passed. Their helmets were all gone, and none of them were armed. Each man had his hands bound before him, his horse led by Lord James’s men. One by one they passed, and Ransom looked at the sea of faces.
To his shock, he saw Guivret among them. Their eyes met, and a jolt of sorrow ripped through Ransom’s chest when he saw the look of anger and distrust in Guivret’s eyes. It had been years since Guivret had been captured during Ransom’s mission to steal the Wizr board from Pree. What had Lady Alix done to him? No one had ever brought a hostage demand to Ransom, and his efforts to find out where Guivret was had all been met with silence.
Another prisoner he recognized was marched past him. It was Sir Chauvigny, Alix’s husband and the Duke of Bayree. He had a scar across his eyebrow and eye. He glared at Ransom with undisguised hatred. And he spat on him as his horse passed.