Chapter 23
T he village was silent.
They usually were, once my regimen rode into town.
The quiet, rhythmic beat of hooves trampling a fresh layer of snow was the only outward sign of life. The people themselves were shut up in their homes, like the thin ramshackle buildings could spare them from my father’s unpredictable wrath.
I came to a stop in the village square, dismounting from my horse.
“They’re hiding because they know we’ve found them out,” one of the idiots, who was unfortunately in my ranks, declared.
Yes, I was sure these starving villagers were colluding with Lochlann when the pass was several days away on the horses they couldn’t spare and not currently passable. But the duke had decreed it, so…
I couldn’t very well contradict the soldier, as it would be contradicting my father, but I made a mental note to casually reassign him somewhere remote, for all the good it would do.
There was always someone willing to join a mob, and these men were trained to jump on the bandwagon of my father’s every thought or whim.
“Indeed,” I said drily. “Well, there’s nothing for it, then.”
I glanced at Dmitriy, who flicked his eyes toward a particularly shabby house at the base of the mountain. Taking a breath, I headed toward the house, already deadening myself to the protests and pleas that were sure to follow.
I was sure to reach the house first, just as I was sure to position my regimen with my trusted soldiers at my back, shielding the others from coming too near. The door was easy enough to break down. I ignored the sound of a woman screaming, a child crying, focusing instead on the man who stood before them, attempting to shield all of their bodies with his own.
The man who had stolen food from the store sheds under Dmitriy’s silent watch.
Looking at the protruding bellies of his children, the hollowed out cheeks of his wife, I could see why. Still, it was someone else’s family he was starving to feed his own.
Death was a heavy punishment for a first time theft, but it was better than punishing someone who had done nothing to deserve it.
“My lord?” the man asked, taking in the sight of the soldiers with widened eyes. “What can I do for you?”
He was younger than I expected him to be, with the broad build of a farmer, even in his gauntness.
“The Duke has had word that you have been involved in acts of treason.” My voice sounded dead to my own ears.
His wife shook her head silently, dislodging the black curls on her head. It was strangely reminiscent of the princess, humanizing her in a way I didn’t need right now. I blinked, returning my gaze to her husband.
I expected a slew of denials, especially since he was not, in fact, guilty. At least, not of this.
Instead, he met my eyes solidly, studying my features.
“Yes, my lord. I acted alone.”
The stories had spread by now. Everyone knew there was no escaping my father’s ‘suspicions,’ but most people tried anyway. This man didn’t. He only tried to save his family.
I nodded, and relief flooded his gaze.
“No,” his wife cried.
“You will stay silent, Nita!” The tone was a harsh contrast to his gentle hand on her arm.
I tucked that away to a place in my mind that didn’t exist in this space. Stone by stone, I built a wall around it, blocking out the final affectionate gesture along with the sounds of wailing from a small cot in the corner of the room.
A young girl rushed over to shush the baby while the woman collapsed on the floor.
I built my wall higher.
“Come with me.”
He nodded, squeezing his wife’s hand one final time. The rest of my men had already gone about pulling the villagers from their homes. What good was an example if there was no one to witness it?
“Where is his family?” the same arsehat soldier from before asked. Molohov, I remembered.
Perhaps I would arrange an accident rather than a relocation.
“Ill,” I said shortly.
“That should not excuse?—”
“Do you wish to contract an illness?” I demanded. “Furthermore, do you wish to join the man in his fate, because your insolence comes perilously close to treason yourself.”
“My apologies, my lord.” He stressed the title a bit too much, an apology and a reminder that I was not yet the duke. My word was not absolute. Technically speaking, aside from a general immunity, I held no more power than any other lord at present.
But it was still more than a soldier.
I turned to the man, instructing him to kneel. Another woman cried out from the crowd, a name I refused to commit to memory. She was older, gray streaks shot through her pale hair. His mother, probably.
I added another stone to the wall, drawing my swords and reminding myself that this was the best case scenario. A single life, and not even that of a child.
It shouldn’t have even rated against the sins I had stacked up by now.
But all I could see were pale green eyes flickering in the firelight, staring at me like maybe I was deserving of her fear, after all, and a small, forgotten part of me hated that I was proving her right.