2. Chapter Two
Chapter Two
Gerta
M y body aches from the fall, and my thoughts haven’t quite caught up with me. But I make myself scramble out of the enemy’s arms all the same.
I stumble backward, tripping over the torn cloth covering and catching myself on the wagon frame opposite the Constantinium soldier. “Stay back!”
He stares calmly back at me from his seat, rubbing his thighs that I crashed into. “Ma’am, I haven’t moved from this place since we met. Why would you expect me to do so now?”
My jaw drops at the courtesy title. There are no ranks in our company, and our enemies have only ever used insults to address us. Mayhap he is dazed from my sudden entrance? In another moment or two, though, he will realize I’m wearing a woolen tunic and leggings rather than a dress like the lady in the wagon behind us. Worse, the fur cap on my head marks me as a Gaelic freedom fighter. He’ll realize his mistake then and quickly seek to remedy it.
I reach for the knife sheathed on my belt so that I’ll be ready.
The soldier— a captain, if the golden sun emblem keeping his fur cloak in place is anything to go by— just points to himself. “I’m Kay, by the way.”
“Wh-what?”
“My name. It’s Kay. It’s a privilege to make your acquaintance. ”
I glance around the wagon, which has a few barrels tied down and not much else. “Do you know who I am?”
“No, but I’m hoping you’ll tell me. Your name is . . .?”
“You have got to be jesting.”
“I am not. I rarely jest.” Kay stares back at me, his face as expressionless as the barrels. “I sincerely desire to know your name.”
“This isn’t a pub where introductions are made. This is a wagon .”
“I am aware. I occupied this wagon before you did, after all. Now . . .” Kay calmly points at himself. “Kay.” Then he gestures at me.
Does he seriously expect me to exchange pleasantries— let alone my name? “I heard you the first time. Your Gaelic is flawless. However, I didn’t come here to make conversation.”
The wagon comes to an abrupt stop as the clamor of screams and sword fighting fill the surroundings.
Still, Kay studies me calmly, folding his hands in his lap. “Then may I ask, ma’am, why you did come here?”
Shaking my head, I push away from the wall and move to the back of the wagon. Pulling apart the covering, I take in the chaos surrounding us.
Our wagon has halted because the driver has jumped on the back of Wolf, who is howling at the other wagon passenger. He stares up at her in horror, his weapon apparently lost somewhere in the snow.
It’s good of his friend to be there for him. Wolf knows our creed, but she does sometimes get carried away. And we really need Smalls with the crossbow covering our tails and not wrestling Wolf away from poor decisions.
Beyond them, Prince is leading two more men toward the trap he set in advance, his long blond hair flowing behind him. Biggs, meanwhile, climbs up the second wagon only for his tiny frame to be kicked off by the woman, who hasn’t budged from her place.
“That woman is my sister.”
Startling, I turn to find Kay standing just behind me. Why did I turn my back on him? Touched in the head as he seems, he still wears enemy colors.
But Kay’s face remains even, his tone like one mentioning a friend of a friend rather than close kin. “She is with child. Please let her pass.”
“What?” I turn to better face him.
“I know authority when I see it. Just as I am the captain of these men, you are the leader of those rebels. Please let my sister pass. I assure you that she can be quite cantankerous and would not make a pleasant prisoner.”
“Well, few would be.”
“I would be . . . for you.”
“Are you surrendering?” Because surely, he’s not flirting in this moment of peril while wearing a deadpan expression.
“In her stead.” He nods toward the woman who is whipping the reins of the horses tied to her wagon. “She needs to join her husband in the fortress. They’re having a boy.”
“A boy? How do you know?”
A second soldier jumps on Wolf’s back, but they still look like I’ll need to intervene in a moment.
“The old elf’s tale. If the baby is a girl, she steals her mother’s beauty. But if the babe is a boy, he makes her lovelier.”
The wagon dashes past us, and I get a better view of Kay’s sister. “Are you sure that it’s not a girl?”
“No, this is an improvement to my sister’s previous countenance.”
“Uh-huh . . .” I step out of the wagon to signal to Smalls as he aims his crossbow. “Let her pass.”
Confused, Smalls lowers his bow. Then his eyes widen at me.
I glance behind me to see Kay has followed, and he has a sword pointed at my back.