CHAPTER 37
Helena
When had she decided to make camp in the open?
Helena struggled to drag herself awake, faintly aware of the hard ground under her cheek. She didn’t remember lying down.
And why was someone moving her arms?
Memory rushed back with a jolt. She tried to shoot to her feet, but a pair of strong hands gripped her forearms while a rope cinched her wrists together. And her head spun as soon as she lifted it off the ground.
A low moan escaped her. It felt like someone was trying to pound a tent stake through her forehead.
“He’s awake. Hurry up with those restraints.”
Helena struggled weakly, but her body felt sluggish. Maybe her hands were simply going numb from their new bonds.
Someone grabbed her shoulders and heaved her upright. She tried to stand, but the ground wouldn’t stay still. Her head lolled forward, and she stumbled sideways into a solid body.
“I have this side. Careful, though—it might be a trick.”
Hands gripped both of her arms, holding her steady before they dragged her forward. She tried to keep up, but her legs wouldn’t cooperate. She tipped forward.
“Never mind, I’ll carry him.”
A shoulder dug into her stomach, and then she was hanging from her waist. The blood rushing to her head wasn’t helpful, but with her hands tied behind her back, she couldn’t push off the man’s back to level herself out.
“Let me know if you need to trade off.”
“It’s not that far. Besides, he’s lighter than I expected.”
“Smaller arms too, right?”
“Yeah, I thought Le Capuchon would be stronger than that.”
Le Capuchon was. But Helena wouldn’t have told them that even if her tongue didn’t feel like lead. Everything was a bit fuzzy, but she knew it was better if they assumed she was Cap.
He was the bigger catch. They might drop the search for Jean-haut if they believed they had the leader.
Her mind drifted back to the guards’ comments about her arms. Cap’s arms. His upper arm and shoulder under her hand as she danced with him. His lips a hairsbreadth from her own.
His answering her in Old Ralnoran.
The embarrassment fought its way through the haze in her mind, burning off a little of the fuzziness. She still couldn’t believe he’d understood her the whole time and never said a word.
A silly grin crept across her face. Cap knew what she’d said about him, but he still wanted to kiss her.
Her nose bounced off her captor’s back, bringing reality with it. She needed to focus. Try to escape now, dream about her honorable outlaw later.
The guards conversed quietly, ignoring her. Helena let herself hang limp for another moment, then jerked her shoulders sideways and lifted her feet, bringing them back down as hard as she could.
“Whoa!” her captor exclaimed, gripping her thighs more tightly. His other hand grabbed her waist. “None of that, now.”
“Should we make him walk from here?”
“No, I’ve got him.” The guard grunted. “I’d rather this than drag him by his arms.”
That was unfortunate. She’d have to work harder to change his mind.
She was still on his shoulder when they reached the garrison building. The thick wooden door creaked on its hinges as the other guard swung it open, then let it fall heavily closed behind them. It narrowly missed her head.
After walking down a short hallway, the guard knocked sharply on a door. A friendly voice called out, “Come in.”
Her captor set her down. She struggled, twisting as hard as she could, but the guards held on tight.
“Le Capuchon, we meet at last,” General Valentin said with a sad smile as he turned from the dark window. “I wish it were under different circumstances.”
Helena glared at the man whose lies were responsible for Cap’s peril. Deepening her voice, she smiled thinly and replied, “We are in agreement. I’d rather have my bow and an arrow in my hands.”
His eyebrows lifted. “Would you?” Nodding to one of the guards, he said, “Let’s see his face.”
Helena thrashed a little harder. No sense making things easy for them.
She had the satisfaction of seeing the General’s jaw drop when her hood came off and her long chestnut braid tumbled free. “A woman?” His eyes narrowed. “The woman Erwan brought to me a few months ago. The one he claimed wasn’t a member of Le Capuchon’s band.”
Helena smirked. “Sorry to disappoint.”
He shook his head. “Sending him back to Laurier after the failed raid on your camp was a hard decision, but it was clearly the right one.” He sighed heavily. “And now I shall have to punish him upon our return.”
Thinking of the pleasant guard made Helena’s heart sink. “He has nothing to do with this. He didn’t know.”
“True, who would suspect that Le Capuchon is a woman?” General Valentin mused. His eyes darted back to her. “But is he?”
Lifting her chin, she met his eyes boldly. If he was talking, he wasn’t worrying about his escaped prisoners. Let him think she was the infamous bandit for now.
Aunt Chloe would set him straight as soon as they reached the capital. Assuming Helena didn’t escape first.
His eyes dropped to her left shoulder. “No. Erwan and the others were on Le Capuchon’s heels.
There was no time to bandage your wound.
” Folding his hands behind his back, he gave her a knowing, fatherly smile.
“Margit, wasn’t it? He must have done a fine job charming you for you to be willing to sacrifice yourself for him.
Come, why don’t you tell me who he is? I will be lenient if you help me catch him. ”
“As if I would betray him to someone like you,” she sneered, dropping the act. She could see in his eyes that he wouldn’t believe it now.
“Someone like me?” General Valentin looked puzzled. “What do you mean?”
Helena opened her mouth to reply. But even through the pounding in her head, she knew she should stay silent. She still needed to search his house, after all. “I think you know.”
His forehead wrinkled. “No, I’m afraid I don’t. I have always tried to do what’s best for Amitié. How can I know what lies Le Capuchon told you to gain your trust?”
Her head throbbed, and her anger at his audacity sent a pulse through her blood, overriding her good sense.
How dare he claim that Cap would lie? “Since when is murdering the king so you can usurp his throne ‘best for the kingdom’?” she said sarcastically.
“I must have missed that day in my lessons.”
“Is that what he told you?” The General’s eyebrows were almost at his hairline. “I didn’t expect that.”
“Didn’t expect him to know the truth?” Helena snapped.
General Valentin released a low whistle. “He’s better than I thought. Poor Rouge; I suppose her hopes truly were misplaced.”
Helena paused. “What?”
He tilted his head back. “A young forester named Jean was among the captured. I assume his sister was there as well. Red hair? Fiery personality?”
Helena kept her mouth firmly closed. She refused to give him more information about their group.
After waiting a moment for her to respond, General Valentin shook his head and sighed. “I wondered if she followed him, but her chances were always slim. And how could she compete with a princess?”
“You mean Daphne?” Helena asked, wrinkling her forehead. How would a betrothed princess compete for Cap’s affections?
And how had General Valentin known that Rouge wanted them?
“I suppose it’s no surprise that he had you fooled.” The General gave her a commiserating smile. “He is a very good actor. Almost as good as your brother. He did manage to hide his temper, after all.”
“Cap doesn’t have a temper,” Helena said without thinking. Her mind was stuck on one of his other statements. “What makes you think I have a—”
“You look just like him,” he commented casually, glancing over his shoulder as he strolled to the wall. Examining a painting, he shook a finger in the air as he continued. “What I can’t figure out is how you reached this point after Le Capuchon put an arrow through your shoulder.”
Mildly unnerved, Helena replied, “You’ll just have to wonder.”
She wanted to press his claim about her brother. But at the same time, she didn’t. If he had her mixed up with someone else, proving his error would be simple.
But if he suspected who she really was…she didn’t want to confirm it.
“Indeed.” The General shook his finger a few more times. Pursing his lips, he turned back to her. “Could you tell me why you believe Le Capuchon’s claim about me?”
Helena shifted from one foot to the other as she weighed her decision. The guards tightened their grip on her arms.
“You used the wind gryphon to find and attack us,” she finally said, watching him carefully. “And again to capture me.”
“The wind gryphon?”
“The one you claim the king’s murderer stole.” She raised an eyebrow at his confused expression. “If Prince Raphael has it, how did you use it?”
His mouth formed a wrinkled smile. “My dear girl, I don’t have the wind gryphon.”
“That wasn’t a normal wind that followed me,” she scoffed. “It was coated in magic.”
“I never said it wasn’t.” He strolled toward her, a hint of pity in his face. “One of my captains is a wind-user. He offered to use his magic to search a wider area than we could on foot. And when the night patrol reported that Le Capuchon was fleeing across Arles’s rooftops, he wanted to help.”
She opened her mouth to reply but hesitated. It was plausible.
“But you falsely accused the prince,” she protested with a little less certainty. “You said you saw him running from the room.”
“And what makes you think he wasn’t?”
“Because—” She hesitated. General Valentin looked so reasonable. “Because he was out hunting when his father was murdered.”
Compassion filled his face. “And who told you that?”
“I—”
If she told him that Cap was her source, would that betray his identity to the General?
“Jean-haut,” she finally answered. General Valentin already knew about the forester. “He told me that he warned Prince Raphael not to come home.”
Leaning wearily against his desk, the General sighed and folded his arms over his chest. “Those two were always as thick as thieves. I should have realized he was shielding young Raphael.”
“What do you mean?” Helena asked uneasily.
“Margit.” Frowning slightly, he brought one hand up to rub his chin. “I know you had a sheltered childhood.”
Helena’s lips pulled down in a frown of her own. What reason did he have to think that?
“But not all men are honest,” he continued slowly. “They will say anything to persuade you to do what they want. And Jean wants to protect his friend.”
“The prince,” she clarified.
“Yes, the prince,” he agreed. He opened his mouth, pausing for a moment as if searching for the right words. “He doesn’t want his friend punished for a moment of lost temper.”
A hint of doubt began to creep into Helena’s mind.
She’d decided to trust Jean-haut just as she had Cap, but she only knew what they’d told her.
She’d been isolated after meeting them; how did she know that their version of General Valentin was the correct one?
Or their tale of a prince she’d never met?
“What are you saying?” she managed.
He looked up, his serious cobalt blue eyes meeting hers. “Jean lied to you. He knew how important your influence could be, so he fed you a story to convince you that Prince Raphael is innocent.”
“But why would he do that?”
The desperation leaked into her voice despite her best attempts to hide it. And from the look in the General’s eyes, he heard it. “Because he knows who you are, Your Highness. And he wants Ralnor’s support for the prince.”