CHAPTER 18
Cap
Are you sure about this, Cap? We’re a long way from home.”
Cap sat on his horse, gazing out at the rolling hills before him. Unlike the mountains, this valley was mostly meadow. Staying out of sight would be difficult, and riding across the baron’s lands would draw the attention of anyone who saw them.
But he and Jean-haut had already searched the mountainous part of the Lancée lands, and they’d seen no sign of the baron’s flocks.
“We’ll stick to the trees.” He traced the edge of the meadow with his eyes. “It will take longer, but it will be safer.”
The forester shifted in his saddle. “She could be on the other side of the property for all we know. It could take us a week to search every dell.”
His friend’s worried tone made Cap’s forehead wrinkle. “We’ve gone on longer trips. Rouge has enough flour to feed everyone for a while, and Laurent and the others will supplement with meat as needed. And you gave fresh tokens to Rouge and Adrien before we left, didn’t you?”
“As always,” Jean-haut verified. “But things have changed, Cap. Can’t you feel it?”
“You mean Margit?” Frowning, Cap turned fully toward his friend. “I thought you believed her. Do you think she’ll cause trouble while we’re gone?”
Jean-haut’s horse snorted and stamped a foot. “The enchanted wind. Rouge knows where to take the others if there’s trouble, but at our last camp...” He stared at his horse’s neck for a few moments, then turned and looked Cap in the eyes. “She didn’t feel it.”
A chill settled in Cap’s bones that had nothing to do with the wintry air. He hadn’t told his band about the wind gryphon because he didn’t want them to panic. But if Rouge had missed it, were they safe without him?
He debated with himself. He didn’t want to put his people at risk, but he felt a burning need to speak with the woman who had put Daphne in danger. He needed to know what she knew about what was happening in his kingdom.
Facing forward, he guided his horse around the edge of the trees. “We’ll be quick and trust that she’ll sense it this time,” he said with confidence.
But he didn’t feel confident at all.
Jean-haut followed him without further questions, but Cap’s mind swirled with indecision. He didn’t like it. On the day his hesitation had almost cost his friend’s life, he’d promised himself to never again second-guess himself. That he wouldn’t hesitate.
But his path was becoming more twisted, and every decision put someone at risk if he was wrong. He’d almost been caught when he followed a bad lead. He had a possible spy in his camp.
It was getting harder to be certain that he was right.
They searched for the rest of that day. By noon the next day, Cap was beginning to doubt himself. Was he on a fool’s errand? Even if he found Nathalie, would she be able to tell him anything new? Should he simply return to camp so he could watch over his people?
No – the best way to protect his people was to solve the mystery of the king’s murder. Once he could prove who the true culprit was, Prince Raphael would return to take charge of the kingdom. Neither the poor in the villages nor his little band in the woods would need Le Capuchon any longer.
“There’s a place...about two hundred yards east,” Jean-haut said, his eyes closed in concentration.
His horse walked docilely next to Cap’s, following their lead while its rider was distracted.
“There’s enough tree cover to provide shelter from passing eyes, but a bare patch big enough for us to lie down. ”
“Even for me?” Cap asked, an amused tilt to his grin.
Jean-haut shook his head. “Fail to account for a giant’s height one time...”
“Only a giant compared to you,” Cap calmly replied. “My brother is taller.”
“That bean pole is taller than everyone,” Jean-haut snorted. “Doesn’t mean that you’re short.”
“I never said I was. The problem is that you—” Cap cut himself off, reining in his horse.
“What is it?”
He shushed his friend, straining his ears. Had he only imagined it? Or was that—
A grin spread across his face as the faint bleat reached him again. “We might not need that campsite, Jean-haut. I think we found her.”
~
Despite their eagerness to return, Cap and Jean-haut decided to make camp for the night and approach their target in the morning. They had confirmed she was there, but an older man had joined her for a meager supper.
Cap hoped she would be alone during the day. Also, if something went wrong, it would be easier to flee in the daylight than after dark.
“Shh, my friend,” Cap whispered. He patted Farrell’s nose and finished tying the reins around a branch.
Jean-haut crouched nearby with his bow ready, peering through the underbrush. “Her friend just disappeared over the hill,” he said in a hushed voice. “She’s heading this way.”
Cap gave his horse one final pat, then pulled his strung bow from its place on his back. He nocked an arrow and moved slowly through the dry shrubs to join his friend.
They watched as the young blonde woman meandered toward them.
She had a staff in her hand, but she held it loosely, letting it drag behind her.
Occasionally, she made a careless swipe at one of her sheep.
“Get along, you fool things. You’re supposed to be grazing the far side of the meadow this morning. ”
Cap shook his head. What was Raoul thinking, sending her out here with no one closer than a man on the other side of the meadow? She and her sheep would be helpless if a wild animal showed up.
Or a couple of bandits.
“Halt!”
Drawing his bow and raising it in one smooth motion, Cap jumped out of the trees in front of her. She jerked back with a short scream, bringing the staff up in a pathetically weak position. How had this woman managed to best Daphne?
Jean-haut stepped out beside him, his bow trained on the traitor as well. “No sudden moves, please. And no loud noises if you value your life. You would be dead and the two of us gone before help arrived.”
“Who—who are you?” she stammered, eyes wide with fear. “I don’t have any money.”
“All we want is information,” Cap rasped in the lowered voice he used as Le Capuchon. “As long as you give us that, we won’t hurt you.”
“Information?” she parroted. She gave a self-deprecating smile, but her lips trembled. “What information could I have? I’m just a shepherdess. I don’t know the secrets of the manor; they don’t even let me come in out of the cold.”
She was no worse off than Cap and his band, but he didn’t see the point in debating that. “The Lancée family doesn’t interest me. Princess Daphne does.”
A smirk twitched across her face. “Informed bandits, are you? Sorry, I doubt you can reuse my methods. She and her annoyingly observant nobleman will be extra careful from now on.”
Cap adjusted his position, pointing the arrow more clearly at her chest. He pulled the string a little farther back. “I don’t want to know how. I want to know why.”
Her eyebrows lifted. “Why? So I could take her place, obviously.”
“You were working with someone,” Jean-haut barked. Her eyes widened as they jumped to him. For all his lack of height, he could be rather intimidating with his deep voice. “Who was it? And what did they want?”
“You’re an unusual pair of bandits, aren’t you?” she replied. Her forehead crinkled as she looked between them. “Why do you care?”
Cap took a step forward, looming over her with his greater height. He needed to keep her scared. “Answer the question.”
She gulped. “One of General Valentin’s aides. Auguste. The General fired him.”
“But who was Auguste working for?” Cap pressed. “The king is dead, his oldest son is missing, and now his daughter is assaulted? Sounds like a conspiracy to me, and I don’t believe that you and a single aide are behind it all.”
“Of course not. Didn’t you hear?” she said with a sly grin. “The king’s son disappeared because he was caught fleeing the scene of his father’s murder. Nasty temper, that Prince Raphael.”
Jean-haut released a snort. “The idea that Prince Raphael would harm his sister is as ridiculous as the idea he would kill someone in anger. He’s one of the most level-headed people I know.”
“You know him?” she laughed. They were losing the intimidation factor the longer they talked. “That seems unlikely. Whereas he and I are well-acquainted.”
Her tone made Cap’s lip curl in disgust, but it was Jean-haut who spoke up. “I don’t think you’re his type.”
“Again, how would you know?” she sniffed. “And why do you care what happened to the king? Shouldn’t a pair of outlaws be glad that he’s dead?”
“I care about justice,” Cap ground out. “And King Antoine was like a father to me; I will see the culprit punished.”
“You are too funny. The king, like a father to an outlaw?” She shook her head sadly. “If you really feel that way, the prince is your man. After all, it was his favorite dagger that they found buried in the king’s chest. And General Valentin himself saw Prince Raphael running away.”
“It’s a lie,” he snapped.
She shrugged. “But the people don’t know that, do they? And who will they believe: a trusted, respected general, or a pair of outlaws?”
Had she just said...?
“It was General Valentin?” he choked out. Jean-haut and Rouge had tried to tell him, but— “He killed the king?”
Nathalie gave him a mock sympathetic look. “What’s the matter? Another man who was like a father to you?”
Yes, but she didn’t need to know that.
While he was trying to clear the red from his vision, she continued, “I don’t know the murderer any more than you do. But my money is on the prince.”
Rage like he’d never felt before poured through him, making his arms tremble. He dropped them, releasing the tension on his bowstring before he did something he would regret.
He opened his mouth, then closed it again and spun on his heel.
“Cap?” Jean-haut called.
Cap ignored him, storming through the trees toward the horses.