Standing at one side of the road, his squad at his back, it occurred to Garo that while guarding prisoners was less exciting than storming a castle, it had its compensations—especially when half of them were women. However strict the Old Man's orders, they couldn't stop a soldier from looking. Some were worth looking at.
They came by single file, hands bound in front of them, roped together in groups of sixty, each separated by a squad of ten legionaries. One of the Ladies, tall, eyes alert in a scarred face, caught his eye. Fifty by the face, forty by the dark hair, thirty by the smooth stride.
"Captain Garo."
It was a legionary runner. Garo raised his hand.
"Message from the commander, sir. Karls coming up from the south—lots of them. He wants the prisoners off the road the other side, out of the way if there's a fight. Sent a guide—courtesy of His Majesty's pet Karl. Doesn't speak anything civilized, but he'll show you where to go."
The young man gestured to the still younger man following him, pointed to the captain.
"Captain Garo. Commands prisoners. Lead him."
The guide looked at Garo, said something. Garo shook his head. The runner spoke again, slowly and loudly.
"Show. Lead."
The guide set off for the head of the column at a trot; Garo followed. Half a mile farther west, where the road ran over a dry riverbed, the guide pointed right.
Two hours later, the riverbed out of sight, the path winding uphill through thick forest. A figure stepped out of the woods, sword raised, struck twice. Leonora stepped clear of the cut rope, stretched out her bound hands; a third stroke and they were free. She turned to the Lady behind her.
"Keep moving; guards suspect anything, they may start killing people. Move as slow as you can. Get a battle song going, loud—we need the noise. 'Laina, cut 'Thora free, give her your knife. 'Thora, free everyone ahead of you, swords for some of them pretty soon."
Elaina obeyed orders, then turned to her mother. "Ambush ahead, two archers, far side of clearing to the right, any minute now."
As she spoke, Elaina handed Leonora the sword she was carrying, drew her own. Her mother glanced down at the blade, up.
"Good. Follow me."
At the head of the column the guide said something to Garo, pointed. On the right the woods had fallen back, exposing a few small buildings and a stone wall.
"What the . . . !"
At the legionary's shout, Garo turned back. The guide was gone. One of the guards pointed at the woods to the left.
"Want me to go after him?"
Garo shook his head, shrugged the shield down from his shoulder.
"May be the least of our problems."
Another shout.
"Arrows. 'Ware arrows. On the right."
Garo looked right as he slid his shield arm through the straps. Archers behind the wall. One of the legionaries behind him grunted. An arrow glanced off Garo's helmet.
"Second half after them, first half watch the prisoners."
His shield raised against the archers, Garo looked back along the path. The man at the head of the rope had seen the archers and stopped, more prisoners piling up behind him.
"Form line; they may try something."
Someone was past the knot of prisoners, running straight at the guards—the tall Lady of indefinite age. This time she had a sword.
The nearest guard thrust at Leonora. She slapped the blade aside, twisted past to the left, struck back-handed at the exposed neck. Three more in line, a fourth behind them, one down, more chasing after the archers. On her left forest; she circled right instead. The fourth man, the captain, said something to the other three and came after her, shield up—behind him his men were advancing on the prisoners. 'Laina's problem.
The tall woman moved with frightening grace, but Garo had armor and shield and she didn't. A blow straight down at his helm. He blocked with his shield, stepped forward swinging low. Her leg wasn't there, the sword a line of fire down his forearm. He stepped back, felt his grip loosening. Back again, stumbled over a body, shield swinging up as he fell.
Elaina faced a line of three guards, the prisoners behind her. As the legionaries moved forward, the one on the right thrust at her. She struck the sword down, stepped in, drove her point up where the armor opened under the arm, stepped back. The second guard swung; she blocked with her blade, struck him in the face with the butt, backed again. Leonora, behind the guards, stepped over Garo's body, struck twice.
The next minute was chaos, freed prisoners sharing out swords, daggers, javelins from the six bodies, fading back into the forest. As the second squad came past the bend, Leonora stepped between them and the prisoners, sword raised, Elaina at her side, behind them a dozen Ladies, each with a javelin, more, armed with swords, coming out of the woods on the legionaries' flank.
"Touch a sword and you die. First squad did." She nodded at the pile of bodies.
Leonora was overseeing the distribution of weapons, setting guards for the prisoners, when two figures came out of the woods on the far side of the farm. She waved. When they reached her Leonora handed Kara the sword.
"You keep it as sharp as she did. What happened to the men chasing you?"
"Two still out there somewhere. Getting dark, thought Hen and I would be more use back here."
"Yes. Get some rest—later tonight I'll want you out watching for visitors. Nicely planned rescue, but don't count on things going that smoothly next time."
" 'Bjorn's idea. Just followed orders.
"Speaking of which, better tell the sisters not to throw javelins at him."
Kara pointed down the road. The figure, coming at a trot, was dressed as a legionary runner save for bow and scabbard at one side, quiver at the other. He slowed, approached with both hands raised and empty.
"Not a problem—boy can catch them out of the air. I've seen him do it."
"Didn't get hurt?"
"Not till his grandmother found out they had points."
When Asbjorn reached the two Ladies, Leonora caught him in her arms, gave him a long hug.
"Thanks—couldn't have stood another week of legion cooking. Now report."
"Commander asleep—most of an hour before someone showed up looking for his prisoners. I left the body out of sight—another hour, maybe more, till they notice he's gone, find it. Won't be here tonight—legions think night time is for sleeping. Maybe tomorrow."
"What about Bashkai?"
"Might be a few this end as scouts. Most of them went west two days back."
"Even a few could be dangerous, especially at night. Get some rest now; you and Kara go out in a couple of hours, just in case."
He nodded, looked up at her.
"Makes you look more like 'Laina."
"While Henry argued with them about surrender terms. Figured someone might be looking for a tall Lady with gray hair. Couldn't do much about being tall."
Elen, the baby in her arms, walked over to Anne, glanced around, spoke in a whisper.
"It's hopeless. They won't let the mare off lead, cavalry rider on each side, you should have . . ."
Anne shook her head.
"I want your opinion on something in the packs."
Elen gave her a puzzled look. Anne walked over to the nearer packhorse, fumbled in one of the saddlebags, pulled out a long strip of green cloth.
"Do you think it goes with my coloring? As a sash, maybe?"
She wrapped the cloth around her waist, straightened, looked at the other woman.
"Would this one be better? Not with a dress this dark. Trim for something lighter, maybe gold—a complement to His Majesty."
The second strip was dark blue. She hung it around her neck, ends falling forwards over her breasts and down.
"Little 'Laina looks like she's starting to wake up; let me hold her a minute."
"She's sound asleep. Quietest baby I ever knew." For a moment the two women's heads were together as they leaned over the sleeping baby. Anne picked her up, took a few slow steps, stopped between the nervous stallion and a tall fir tree. Elen moved in the other direction, looked up as if she had heard something, reached the edge of the clearing, screamed.
As the guards turned to the noise, Anne cut the tether rope, slashed the rump of the stallion, took two steps sideways into the cover of the fir tree's thick boughs. The horse bolted. She slid the little knife back into the concealed sheath, bound the blue cloth crosswise over her daughter, around her own waist, back up, tied the ends at the back of her neck, started to climb.
Twenty feet up she stopped to catch her breath. Little Elaina slept quietly, her head between her mother's breasts. Below Anne heard angry voices, farther off yelling, hoofbeats fading into the distance, more. Elen's voice.
"I saw a snake, a big one—of course I yelled. I have no idea where my lady is, and if I did I wouldn't tell—you or His Majesty."
Another voice, this time in Tengu, slow enough for her to follow.
"Don't waste your time; we know where the Karl queen is. On the plain, as far west as she can get, on your damn stallion that you told her was the fastest horse in the army. Better hope you were wrong." He moved off. Anne hugged her daughter, listened. The young officer was speaking again.
"That horse isn't safe for most men, let alone a lady carrying a baby. Hope we don't find them both lying out there someplace."
"Half Estfen is pasture; my lady rode before she could walk. If you can handle him with two hands she can manage with one."
The two moved off, still talking. Branch by branch, with infinite care, up. Finally a wide fork. Anne settled her back against the trunk, legs around the branch, unwrapped the green cloth from her waist, wrapped it tight around waist and tree. Closed her eyes.
Twice during the night the baby woke, nursed, fell back to sleep. In the morning Anne made faces to keep her daughter quiet while the men below broke camp and, with increasing difficulty, for most of an hour after they had left. With the world's best baby reaching the limits of her patience, Anne climbed down, changed her daughter under the sheltering boughs of the fir tree—the green wool might not be as smooth as linen, but it was better than nothing—and set off south. A slow hour through the forest with no sign of stray legionaries, then back to the road.
Late that afternoon she stopped to nurse the baby, rest her legs, and explain to her daughter the one clear advantage of her original plan.
"Not a problem for you, love—you've got your beast of burden. But it's a long way, you aren't as little as you used to be, and I can't eat grass."
The sound of horses; she looked up. Coming north along the road. Too late to hide, too many to fight. Anne came to her feet, the baby in her arms, stood watching the approaching riders.
The smallest slid off her horse, took the baby from her mother's arms, lifted it into the air, kissed it on the stomach, was rewarded with gurgles.
"My namesake behaving herself?"
Anne nodded, blinked away tears.
"Like a lamb. Stayed quiet when it mattered. Are you scouting for Harald? You know your mother's a prisoner? They took Esthold, captured the garrison."
Elaina shook her head.
"Not any more she isn't. We haven't seen Harald and the army for weeks—came north hoping to steal a couple of horses."
"Is there something wrong with the ones you have?"
"Horses with people on them—two ladies and the world's best baby."
"You were planning to steal us out from the middle of the Imperial army?"
One of the riders spoke—young, bow, quiver, no armor, a stranger but something . . .
"Managed 'Laina's mother and three hundred of her friends. You're Anne?"
Elaina cut in.
"Your Majesty, this is our friend Asbjorn. 'Bjorn, Her Majesty of Kaerlia."
Anne responded with a friendly nod and a curious look.
"You rescued the Lady Commander and the rest of the prisoners? How? Where are they?"
"Legionaries are good soldiers—obey orders. Don't always check on where the order came from. Second time would have been harder. Aunt 'Nora and her friends should be back in Eston by now, sitting down to dinner a day late. Speaking of which, might consider the matter of food."
" 'Bjorn!"
Kara, pointing north up the road. A moment later the others heard it too—at least one horse. Elaina handed the baby back to its mother, reached for her sword, moved past Anne; Asbjorn nocked an arrow.
A slight figure on a horse. Elaina let her sword slide back into its sheath.
"My lady. You're safe. Both of you. What happened to the stallion?"
"No idea; we weren't on him. Spent the night up a tree—little one as quiet as a mouse. In the morning you went north, we went south."
"Up there all night? I thought . . ."
"So did they. How did you get away?"
Elen dismounted, leaned over to kiss the baby.
"His Imperial Majesty sent me with a message. He says when the war's over, you're invited to guest with him in the Capital. Brought little 'Laina's linen, too."
She reached into the saddlebag. Asbjorn, hands again empty, turned to Jon and Hen.
"Set up camp out of sight of the road. We'll see what we can find for dinner, back when we find it."
He dismounted, said something to his horse—Anne caught tone but not words. Kara joined him. The two vanished into the woods. Anne looked after him, turned back to Elaina.
"Interesting friend you have. He reminds me of someone I know."
"His grandson. Parents died when 'Bjorn was a baby, Harald and Gerda raised him. Mother told me. Don't worry about dinner—only person I've ever seen Kara willing to hunt with."