Chapter 12
Ian felt an unexpected exhilaration at being alone on the road at night.
He did not want to feel lighter on the dark road, but he could not deny that his breathing was easier, and the cool night air felt good against his skin.
If he was going to abandon his entire family and kingdom, he could at least enjoy the freedom of traveling alone in order to do it.
No one had expected him to simply walk out of the castle and disappear.
So that was precisely what he had done. He had donned the same dark, unmarked traveling clothes that he had worn just two days ago.
They still smelled of sweat and horse, as he had not had enough time at the castle to send them to be laundered.
In the busy hour just before sunset, when most of the staff were finishing their tasks for the day and crossing through the courtyard on their way down to the city, he had taken Robin’s horse from the stable and simply rode it out of the gate.
Two of Gareth’s soldiers had even been stationed there, but they had not given the hooded man on the simple horse a second glance.
The Iseldan guard, also standing near the gate, had recognized him, but at his simple nod they had said nothing.
Ian followed the dark road, relying on the superior sight of the horse to navigate the darkness. The animal seemed to know that he was headed toward home and happily led the way.
Ian, of course, would have preferred to be riding Rowena. He was excited to see his white mare again, but perhaps more excited to see how annoyed Robin might be when he arrived in Lockwood. Would she assume that he had gone back on his word and come to pick up Rowena?
Robin. The head of River’s Talon. It should not have surprised him.
She was his age, and he had the command of an entire army.
Why should she not also have command of a vast secret network that spanned five kingdoms?
He had noted the way the bandits had responded to her leadership. He was stunned. But it made sense.
It was fully dark when, two hours later, they came across the small village of Berwell.
Ian had never been to Lockwood Forest, much less Lockwood Manor.
But he had studied the map in his father’s council room countless times and had often traced the route there from the castle.
The village of Berwell sat at the crossroads that led to Lockwood Manor.
Ian slipped off the horse as he arrived at the single main street of the quiet village. A lone lantern lit the road, hanging from the only stone building on the street. It felt eerily quiet, but Ian attributed that to the smallness of the town and the lateness of the hour.
While Lockwood would only be a short hour’s ride from Berwell, Ian assumed approaching Lockwood unannounced in the darkness would be the perfect opportunity to land him an arrow in the chest.
The stone inn ahead seemed like a far safer option.
He left the horse in a wooden stable out back, then knocked on the door of the inn.
After several minutes, the door creaked open, revealing a woman in a nightcap and shawl who did not appear at all pleased to see him. Though, the handkerchief covering her mouth made it difficult to fully ascertain her expression.
“What do you want?” she asked. The cloth over her mouth slipped with the movement, and she hastily pressed it back up to sit over her nose.
“A bed for the night?” Ian said, assuming that his purpose should be obvious.
“And the pox don’t scare you?” the woman asked, eyeing him up and down.
“The pox?” Ian asked. He had not heard of a pox. The last thing his people needed on top of low harvests, ravaging soldiers, and widespread fear was a pox.
“You ain’t no soldier, are you?” she asked.
“No, just a traveler,” Ian said. He pulled a gold coin out of his pocket, wishing he had thought to do so sooner. “I will be gone by morning.”
The woman opened the door wide, stepping aside to let him in. “Just for a night. The pox won’t reach you, then.” She held out her hand for the coin.
Ian rested in the small, windowless room she showed him to, never fully falling asleep. As soon as he heard sounds from outside the door, he rose and entered the central room of the inn. The same woman from the previous night stirred a pot of something akin to porridge over the open fireplace.
Ian sat at the single table in the center of the room and accepted the bowl of food she set in front of him. “Could you direct me to Lockwood Manor?” he asked, setting another coin on the table.
The woman picked up the coin and tapped it against her palm. “Take the north road out of town. That will bring you right there.” She walked away from the table and returned to stirring the porridge.
Ian ate a few bites, swallowing them with some difficulty but knowing that he needed the sustenance.
The woman turned back around and approached him again, the coin still in her hand. “Lady Robin is right solid, that she is,” the innkeeper said. “We owe her a great debt.”
“How do you mean?” Ian asked.
“She gave us some gold a few seasons back, when business was slow. Enough for us to keep the fire burning and the children fed until things picked up. I aim to pay her back every coin.” The woman smiled proudly.
“And I’ve very nearly done it, too.” She slid the coin back across the rough tabletop toward Ian.
“With the soldiers coming through and taking more than they are paying, things have been difficult. But take this back to her. Tell her it is from Katharine.”
“I will do that.” Ian accepted the coin back. So this was what Robin was doing with the gold she took from travelers? Ian took another, identical coin from the small pocket on his belt. “But keep this one. For excellent service.”
After heading to the stable, Ian saddled Robin’s horse and guided him to the north road. The ride went by quickly. Ian nearly missed the turnoff toward the manor, as its moss-covered stones and dark oak shutters looked like they had arranged themselves into the very landscape of Lockwood Forest.
For a moment Ian doubted that this simple place could be where Robin was hiding the secrets of River’s Talon. But he knew better than to underestimate her. Every fact he had learned about her over the last two days had baffled and impressed him.
The manor was small, a short and sprawling structure built from oak beams and rounded stone.
A waist-height stone fence surrounded both the building and the small garden in front of it.
A path to the left of the fence led to a stable, and he instantly caught sight of Rowena’s familiar white coat in the yard beyond it.
To the right of the manor, a well-worn path led into the trees, revealing some additional structures. Perhaps cottages?
Lockwood appeared to be a village all its own, however small.
The only sign of life, however, was Rowena in the stable yard on his left along with two other horses.
Though he was still quite a ways down the road, Ian raised his fingers to his lips and whistled for Rowena.
She instantly lifted her head, ears twitching, and turned to run toward him.
Ian urged his current mount toward the stable yard so he could meet her at the fence.
He did not make it much further before two figures jumped from either side of the road and blocked his way.
Ian leaned back, keeping his balance as Robin’s horse reared back slightly in surprise. The larger of the two figures—whom Ian recognized as Ulli—had grabbed his horse’s reins to stop them.
“Prince Ian.” Ulli looked up at Ian, his words a statement and not a welcome.
The smaller woman on the other side of the horse—Nele?—kept her hand on the dagger in her belt. Ian had seen her during the recent raid and shared escape, but he had not truly noticed her. She looked fierce enough to best him despite her small size.
“I need to speak with Robin,” Ian said.
“She told you not to come here,” Ulli replied.
“Things have changed since we last spoke,” Ian said. “Gareth is in Iseldis and has taken control of the castle.”
Ulli looked to his companion. She turned without a word and disappeared down the path to the right of the manor.
Ian looked down at the silent man still holding the horse’s reins.
Rowena nickered at him from behind the stable yard’s fence.
“Sol and Meena?” Ian asked as he slid from the horse.
“Safe and well,” Ulli responded, using the same number of words that Ian had.
Knowing that his every move was under scrutiny, Ian gestured to Rowena as he stepped away from Ulli.
Despite the fact that he had found no apples for her along the road, Rowena was quite pleased to see him and butted her head against his shoulder. “Do not pretend to have missed me, girl,” Ian murmured to her. “I know you have been enjoying yourself.”
He stopped himself, hoping that his voice had been too low for Ulli to hear. He looked back at the bandit just as the dagger-wielding woman returned from around the other side of the manor.
She nodded to Ulli, then took the reins from him and led Robin’s horse toward the stable.
Wordlessly, Ulli gestured for Ian to lead the way.
Not knowing where he was going, but also understanding that the silent bandit would not leave his back unguarded with a stranger, Ian stepped forward and made his way down the far path that the woman had used.
Ian’s initial assessment had been correct. Several cottages came into view as they rounded the manor, and Lockwood Forest came alive.
Here was the village community he had been expecting.
The trees opened into a wide clearing, in which several people worked and chatted over various tasks.
Two women and a few children were busy in a vegetable garden.
An older man chopped firewood while two young boys picked up the pieces and carried them to the manor house.
Billowing smoke from a stone structure further down the valley appeared to indicate a small forge.
And dotting the landscape past the cottages were large pens of goats, chicken, and sheep.
Robin stood near the back of the house, deep in conversation with a young woman whose animated gestures suggested frustration.
“The only thing plentiful here is trees,” the woman was saying. “I cannot feed an overflowing household and the entire village on wood chips, but at least we will all stay warm—”
“Ilida.” Robin sounded equally as frustrated. “Jette and Lane needed some more practice, so I’ve sent them out hunting today.”
“And that is exactly the problem,” the other woman said, raising the ledger of papers in her hand to shake it at Robin. “You send the worst archers out to hunt, and now they will return empty-handed!”
Robin’s frustrated face deepened into a self-reflective frown. “I had not thought about that.”
Ian had slowed, not wanting to intrude on the conversation, but he could not help but overhear it. No one around them seemed bothered by the frustrated exchange, which led Ian to believe it was likely a common occurrence.
“Well think of that next time. Or better yet, ask me!” Ilida replied, her voice still raised and her back to Ian.
“You keep bringing people in and expecting me to perform miracles. The deer population can only handle so much, what with the incoming soldiers hunting everything in sight. And the Rodes girl—Jellell—still needs that tonic, but where is the gold for that?”
“I will get more gold.” Robin pressed her fingertips to her forehead, her lips tight and her shoulders tense. Her words sounded determined but somehow empty at the same time.
Ian recognized that particular type of tension—the weight of too many responsibilities with no available solutions.
“How?” Ilida asked. “By robbing travelers? Just be more careful next time so you do not have the entire royal family coming after you here.” She threw her hands up in the air and turned back toward the house, apparently done with this conversation.
But as she moved away from Robin, she nearly ran directly into Ian.
“Wonderful,” she muttered, skirting around him. “Another mouth to feed.”