Josey sat up on the cot and groaned. Knots of soreness ached in every part of her body from weeks of riding. Her back. Her thighs. Even her hair hurt. And sleeping on a sheet of stiff fabric strung across a wooden frame wasn't helping matters. Why didn't I insist upon bringing a proper bed?
Despite the protests from her muscles, she swung her legs over the side and stood up to meet another day. Several large trunks served as her wardrobe and vanity. She pulled out a riding dress and sighed. It had once been a lovely turquoise, but now the skirt was mottled brown and gray like the rest of her clothes. There was no time for proper laundering traveling with an army, so they had to make do with quick dunkings in the local stream and a few passes with a cake of lye soap. Shivering in the early-morning chill, she shrugged out of her sleeping shift and pulled the gown over her head. It fit a little loose around her middle. All her dresses had been purposely made overlarge in that area. She smoothed the fabric over her stomach to feel the soft rounded bump. Did it show? No, she was fine. She would just go without a belt.
As always, thinking about the baby turned her mind toward Caim. Was he all right? Was he even alive? Don't think like that! He was alive, and she was going north to find him. And hopefully bring him home.
The cloth door-flap was pushed aside, and a young girl waited in the opening. Josey pulled her hands away from her middle as a frigid breeze blew into the tent and puffed out the canvas sides. It was Iola. When Josey had departed Othir, she decided to leave her maids behind, intending to “rough it.” But after a few days one of her staff officers, Colonel Klovus, introduced her to his daughter Iola, and Josey had taken an immediate shine to the girl, who was quiet and good-natured, not to mention industrious. Every morning Iola brought her breakfast, which Josey ate while reading the morning dispatches. “Come in, come in!” she said, waving the girl inside.
“I have your breakfast, Majesty.”
“What is it today? Not more oat porridge with nuts, I hope.”
“No, milady.” Iola set down the covered bowl and whisked off the cloth. “Oat porridge with bacon.”
Josey's nose wrinkled as she leaned over the bowl. She despised porridge, and the cooks' attempts to enliven the dish with flourishes like bacon only made it all the more appalling. She considered waiting to eat until the midday meal, but her stomach started rumbling. Oh, baby. You can't be serious.
With a sigh, Josey picked up a spoon and took a bite. It wasn't good, but it wasn't horrible either. Before she knew it, she was scraping the bottom of the bowl and wishing for more. With a sigh, she wiped her mouth with a napkin and gave thanks her morning sickness had waned after the first month of pregnancy. “Is there anyone waiting outside?”
“Not when I came in, milady.” Iola stripped the cot and folded the blankets. “I mean, the captain was out there, but he looked to be standing guard. Not waiting, exactly.”
Josey leafed through a small stack of reports on her camp table while she nibbled on her spoon. Over the past two months she had learned much about the logistics involved in transporting an army, even one as small as hers. Four hundred and twenty-eight soldiers ate a great deal more than she had expected. The quartermasters compiled daily lists of everything that was used, from food and beer rations to uniforms and boots.
Several of the papers were letters from Hubert. He kept her informed of the happenings in the capital. From what she read, it seemed that the city was once again under control. The protests had ceased, and repairs to damaged neighborhoods were under way. There was even a note about Lord Walthom, whom she had sent west to deal with the banditry problem. The field reports indicated he was doing an excellent job, having freed a town under siege and captured some outlaws. There was no further news from the north, but she tried not to let that disturb her.
The border between Eregoth and Nimea had been a trouble spot since the marchland broke free of Nimean rule a generation ago. The last dispatches, months old, had described a sharp spike in the number of raids from the north, and then the messages stopped. Privately, Josey feared the worst.
Invasion.
But what she'd hoped would be a swift trek to the north had proved both longer and more arduous than expected. The farther north they traveled, the worse the roads became as the empire's paved highways gave way to dirt tracks, made more treacherous by the thawing snow. She'd been disheartened at first to hear how the commons scavenged stone from the roads wherever they could. However, as the army passed villages with meager fields and wretched people, she could not hold such thefts against them. Theirs was a difficult lot, and one she wanted to change for the better if she was able. But she had other worries on her mind. Lady Philomena had accompanied-without imperial sanction-the official envoy to Mecantia to engage in negotiations regarding the free status of that city after Hubert's agents reported that their eastern neighbor, Arnos, was making overtures to annex the wealthy trading port. Philomena! Why didn't I have her imprisoned before I left Othir?
Josey sighed. While she didn't like the idea of Lady Philomena interfering with state business, it was probably better that the devious woman was out of the capital for a while.
Shuffling through the reports, Josey shrieked when she spied a letter from her dear friend Anastasia. She tore open the seal and unfolded the short note.
Dearest Josey (it feels naughty addressing our Imperial Matron so candidly),
Well, he finally did it. I'm looking at a sparkling diamond sitting on my ring finger, courtesy of your good regent. Hubert asked for my hand! I wish you could have been here, Josey. He invited me over for a private supper on Hale Saints Day and got down on his knee after the soup course. He was so nervous he almost tipped over the table!
Anyway, we're waiting for your triumphant return so you can help me plan the wedding. Come home soon!
Your Loving Servant, Anastasia
Josey kicked her feet under the table. She couldn't believe it. Hubert and ‘Stasia! They were simply perfect for each other.
She put the letter aside as a man in a crumpled, oversized brown coat entered the tent. His profile was craggy, with a high brow, full nose, and a block of a chin under his short beard. Fresh snow dusted the brim of his dingy hat. Josey smiled and got up to embrace him. “Master Hirsch. When did you get back?”
“Just this morning.”
Passing through the ducal seat of Ostergoth three weeks ago, they had found it in the grip of starvation. The problem had been there was no liege lord to tend to the people. Josey recalled hearing something about the old duke and his family being murdered a few months back, but she and Hubert had missed it in the rushed transition to her new government. Once the winter stores were depleted-or stolen, as some suggested-there was no way for the commons to get more. It was a problem all across the country. Years of drought and lack of foresight by the previous prelate when he reigned over Nimea had caused widespread famine. Josey had stayed in the town for a sennight attempting to help, but finally her urgency to get north compelled her to go, leaving Hirsch to manage the problem.
The adept winked at Iola as she left the tent. “The province is back to some semblance of normal. A shipment of grain arrived from Othir in time to stave off complete disaster. And I found a distant relative of the late duke to take the reins for the time being. I'm not sure he's a long-term solution, but he will serve for now. I wrote to the lord regent with the details.”
Josey let out a deep breath. “Thank you.”
“Thank me in the spring. If more food doesn't reach the province before then, those people won't wait around to starve.”
She knew what he meant. Rebellion. Before, it had been just a word, something out of the history books, but now it was her worst fear. Well, one of them. She had other, more personal concerns, too.
Josey ran her hands through her hair, which hadn't been properly styled since they left Othir. “I know. Hubert says the grain barges are on the way, but this being winter-”
“-the Midland Sea is notorious for bad weather,” he finished for her.
“Doesn't it ever get easier being empress?”
“I'm not sure.” He started to sit in a cloth-backed chair, but then got back up and paced across the carpets. “History tends to skim over the details of rulership in favor of honors and accolades. As far as I can tell, your efforts have been entirely adequate.”
Josey laughed. “Well, that's a rousing endorsement, Master Hirsch. Thank you. Are the troops ready to march?”
“When I came in it looked like the bulk had already departed, lass. You'd know that if you weren't lazing ab-”
Josey rushed to the entryway and threw back the flap. She blinked as sunlight dazzled her eyes. As her vision cleared, she saw a column of footmen marching away. Smoke rose from dozens of empty campfires in the muddy field behind them. Every morning it was her custom to ride at the head of the soldiers. Why would they start without her? She looked for someone she could shout at and spotted the back of a familiar head.
“Captain!”
Drathan turned and gave her a firm salute. He had somehow managed to keep up his immaculate appearance all through their journey. Not a speck of grit marred his uniform, and his boots gleamed with a fresh shine. “Majesty, good morning. Your bodyguard is ready for review.”
On the other side of her tent, a company of soldiers stood at attention in the traditional blue and gold of the Imperial Guard. Josey pointed to the departing troops. “Why is the army leaving already?”
“Pardon me, Majesty. The lord general ordered an early start.”
“And he didn't think to tell me? Nor you?”
The captain winced as if she'd slapped him. “Yes, Majesty. But I only command Your Majesty's bodyguard. I didn't think it was my place to-”
Josey sighed. “No, you're right, Captain. You're not the one I'm angry at. Where is-?”
“Your Highness.”
She turned to the sound of approaching boots. Lord General Argentus was roughly twice her age, with wavy, gray hair and a strong chin. His steel breastplate was polished to a shine. She hadn't known Argentus before they departed on this mission. Hubert had chosen him from among the army's command staff, citing his sterling reputation and complete lack of political aspirations, but Josey still wasn't sure how he felt about her ascension to the throne, and that made her uneasy.
“Good morning, Lord General,” she said. “I was on my way to see you. Why is my army marching before I am ready to depart?”
The lord general bowed. “I apologize, Highness. I received a report from our scouts last night after you had retired. There may be trouble ahead. I sent the column onward to ensure that the road remains clear.”
“What kind of trouble?”
“We're unsure as yet, Highness. But I expect we'll hear soon. Would you prefer to remain here until we ascertain the problem?”
“No. Let's be on our way. I don't want our army divided.”
“Very good, Highness.” With a nod, Argentus left them and headed toward the remaining troops.
Hirsch walked out into the morning light holding a half-eaten yellow apple. “Our general seems like a reliable fellow, though a little dour for my liking.”
Josey looked at him out of the sides of her eyes. “Yes. I'm hoping his better qualities are contagious.”
The adept snorted, and a piece of apple flew from his mouth. “Perish the thought.”
A groom brought Lightning and helped Josey to mount. Hirsch fetched his own steed, and they rode off into the cold, misty morning. Riding at a slow walk, Josey mused that the road to Durenstile was a swamp masquerading as a highway. The army's pace was maddeningly sluggish. Sometimes she longed to gallop ahead. Somewhere over the far horizon, Caim waited. But is he waiting for you? She could admit to herself, when she was alone in her tent, that she was disappointed Caim hadn't sent word. She didn't expect love letters pleading his eternal devotion-not exactly-but an occasional post to let her know he was all right would have gone far to ease her mind.
Josey tried to stretch in the saddle. Sometimes she imagined she might have been more comfortable in a carriage with thick, padded seats and a blanket to ward off the chill, but riding out in the open air, surrounded by her soldiers, made her feel like she was more a part of this endeavor, and not just a passenger.
Hirsch came up beside her, guiding his diminutive mare. She'd been surprised to hear he didn't have a name for his white mare and took it upon herself to rectify that.
“Snowflake looks to be in fine spirits today,” she said, and grinned sideways at him.
The adept raised an eyebrow under the wrinkled brim of his hat. “She's tired and cold, like her master. And we're both reconsidering our decision to join this ill-conceived venture.”
“As I recall,” Josey said, “you didn't volunteer. You're here by imperial decree to help secure our northern border.”
Hirsch settled deeper into his mud-spattered cloak. “In that case, we're honored to accompany Your Majesty across this depressing morass you call a country.”
“Don't sound so bitter. It's your country, too, Master Hirsch.”
“Only by adoption.”
“I didn't know that. Where are you from? Wait, let me guess. Abyssia? You almost look like something that just crawled out of a tomb in that old coat.”
“Hestria,” he answered, and coughed into his sleeve.
“Hestria? That's so…” She didn't finish. Hestria was a wild land of roving horsemen, or that's what she'd been taught by her tutors. “Do they have many magicians there?”
“None that I've ever met. Then again, I didn't know I was a magician when I lived there, either.”
Josey wasn't sure what to take from that. “Is that where you came by your sobriquet? Hirsch Red-Hand?”
He looked ahead. “No, I got that name much later, and I'm not sure it's a topic for discussion on such a fine day as this.”
She heard the distance in his voice, like an old hurt, and would have given him some space, but her thoughts had latched onto another idea. “Hirsch, is your magic able to find things far away? Like a person?”
He studied her for a long moment, and then shrugged. “There are ways. Some are more difficult than others. It helps to have something bound to the body you're seeking. Blood and hair are the best, especially if the blood is fresh.”
Josey didn't have either of them, but she thought of the child growing inside her. “And would you be able to see the person you're seeking? See where they are? Who they're with?”
“You're talking about scrying.”
Josey pulled tight on the frayed ends of her reins, making Lightning look back at her with reproach. “Is it possible?”
“I've seen it done,” Hirsch said. “But my talents lay along other paths.”
She looked down at her gloved hands, her fingers wrapped around the leather cords, and tried not to show her disappointment. “So, what kinds of talents do you have?”
Hirsch's mouth twisted up in a quirky grin. “Well, lass, let's just say-”
They were interrupted by a messenger from the forward units, who saluted as he came near. “Your Majesty! Lord General Argentus sends word that the bridge over the river before us is out.”
“Out?”
“Yes, Majesty. Collapsed.”
She looked to Hirsch. “Does the general think it was deliberate?”
The young soldier's eyebrows rose. “Pardon?”
“The bridge, boy,” Hirsch said. “Was it sabotage?”
“I don't know, my lord. The lord general did not say. But he is searching for another way across. There may be a ford we can use.”
“And if not?” Josey asked.
“The next nearest bridge is at Clavering Cross, Majesty. About twenty leagues southwest.”
Twenty leagues! The army only managed eight to ten miles on good days, and that was on an established road.
“Very well,” she said. “Please tell Lord General Argentus we will stop here while he conducts his search. And bid him to be quick!”
The soldier made a parting salute and galloped away. The order to halt was passed down the line as swift as wildfire on an open plain, and everywhere soldiers fell out of ranks. They laughed as they sat down in the mud, some managing to find a bit of grass to stretch out on. She couldn't appreciate their good humor. It wasn't even midday yet. Half a day wasted.
She glanced to the north. Something inside told her she needed to get to Caim or she would lose him forever. It was a foolish thought, she knew, but it burrowed into the back of her mind as she climbed down from the saddle.