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.
I had to get away.
“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.
Chapter Fifteen
The 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.
Radek threw his knife at 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.”
Chapter Sixteen
I awoke with a start.
Uneasiness settled around me when I didn’t recognize my surroundings. The dark space was unfamiliar, and it took several minutes to remember that I was in some room in some tavern in some unknown town.
I was in the lone bed. Marc lie on the floor beside me. Henrik was next to him. I didn’t see Zora.
I hurt from head to toe, but mostly my shoulder ached from the knife wound. I rolled on my side to see the boys. Both were asleep and both looked as if they felt as miserable as I did.
Henrik’s injured hand was held protectively off to the side. The dried blood from his nail beds stained his fingers all the way to the knuckles. His mouth was slightly open and his chest rose and fell with deep breathing.
Marc slept on his side. The skin over his bruised eye was swollen from Urek’s assault. His frame also rose and fell with sleep, but his face didn’t look as peaceful as Henrik’s. A deep line creased between his dark eyebrows. The planes of his face were angled. He was troubled, but how could he not be?
Our situation was getting worse.
I’d listened to most of Henrik, Marc and Zora’s conversation. The Crown, led by Václav and the Inquisition, were rounding up Protestants and holding them in a camp on the Vltava River before they were tortured and killed.
My stomach twisted.
How many people had Václav killed? How many more was he willing to kill in the name of religion?
It was exactly how I had imagined this revolution would be— murder in the streets. Innocent people killed, and all of it would be done in the name of religion.
We had to rescue the imprisoned peasants. We had to save them.
And I knew this was it—the revolution had begun.
* * *
“Zora went back to the Gypsy camp,” Marc said. “She’s meeting us in Kladno in three days.”
Henrik trotted beside us. “Does she know how many men she’ll have?”
I rode with Marc. Zora had supplied us with two horses, but the pain in my shoulder wouldn’t have allowed me to ride alone anyway.
I was fevered and chilled. My teeth chattered uncontrollably and the circumference of pain in my back grew with each passing hour.
What had begun as a severe, white-hot pain at the center of the knife gash had developed into an intense throbbing that covered my entire shoulder and half my back. It hurt to move. I couldn’t see what the wound looked like—I’d yet to come across a looking glass—but from the expressions on Marc and Henrik’
s faces, it wasn’t good.
“I don’t know,” Marc said. “The boys Zora used to help us escape in Prucha were only fourteen or fifteen years old. We can’t use them to attack the Crown. Our group of rebels in Kladno and whatever men Zora can round up are all we’ll have to attack the camp. Hopefully, we can catch them off guard before they can send word to the Royal Army at the castle.”
“Do we have any idea when Archduke Matthias and his men will arrive? When will they bring their army to Prague?” I wrapped the cloak around myself to ward off the chill.
My brain felt cloudy, as if I was drunk with ale. I was feverish, with no way of warding off the sickness.
Becoming ill outside the Crown’s walls—being ill as a peasant—was often a death sentence. If I were in the castle, King Rudolf would call one of his healers and I would be tended to. With the Crown’s assets, I’d be healthy in no time. That wasn’t the case out here in the villages. The fever was consuming me. Like a wave crashing against me—I could feel it overpowering me. Weakening me.
“I don’t know,” Marc said. “The Austrian army has to assemble and make the journey all the way from Vienna to Prague. That’s why we need to attack the camp and rescue the prisoners before the Crown’s reinforcements arrive.”
The ground sloped upward and I slid against Marc. I groaned when my back smashed against his chest.
“Mila? Are you all right?” Marc pushed me away from his body and peeled back the collar of my dress. He sighed. “We need to get to Kladno quickly.”
I braced my shoulder with my other arm to stop the jostling.
Henrik and Marc signaled their horses and we galloped through the forest to Kladno. The woods became one blurred green image. I couldn’t keep my eyes open anymore, so I drifted off to sleep.
I awoke with a start when I heard voices. My first inclination was that it was Radek and his men, so I panicked. My eyes came into focus and I recognized my surroundings; we were in Kladno.
Thank goodness.
The people emerged from their houses to greet us as we trotted down the main road to Uncle Igor’s house. I dreaded seeing the man. Igor would find a way to blame everything that had happened in Prucha on me, especially his brother’s death.
Stephan and Ivan met us first.
“Henrik!” Stephan grabbed the horse’s reins. “Marc! Where have you been? I knew something was wrong when you didn’t return here yesterday.”