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A clue lay buried in the words and the order of them. So. The king’s soldiers might tolerate a connection with smugglers, but this was a far more serious matter. Someone had murdered the king. If the soldiers believed Ryz had collaborated with the enemy, they would punish Jannik, Ana, Maryshka … even foolish Damek. Only yesterday, Ana Rudny had commented on the dry summer, the hard winter, and how they had not had enough hands to harvest the crops that did grow.
So and so. Jannik had no choice but to turn Ilse and Bela over to the soldiers.
But he could have kept his suspicions a secret. The garrison lay directly north along the river trail. A troop of soldiers riding fast could cover the distance within a few days. Instead, Jannik had warned Ilse.
He believes me. He wants us to escape. But he also wants to protect Ryz.
So she told herself as she lay, fretful and uneasy, on her bed of straw.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
THE NEXT MORNING, Maryshka had stronger opinions about the speaker’s decision.
It was early, the sun just rising above the mountains. Ilse had waited until Ivo and Damek were gone—Ivo for a day of hunting in the upper hills, Damek to work in the barn, then to join his father.
“Idiot,” Maryshka grumbled. “Arrogant, irritating, stupid idiot.”
Ilse waited until Maryshka exhausted her outrage and her vocabulary before she spoke again. “We have a message to deliver,” she said mildly. “We cannot wait any longer.”
“Ah.” Maryshka swung her glance up to meet Ilse’s, and her expression changed to one oddly shuttered. “I see,” she said. “Well, you cannot leave before tomorrow. You need provisions. Bela needs herbs. If our blessed speaker Jannik argues, send him to me.”
She stomped over to the hearth, still muttering.
&nbs
p; Ana had listened to the conversation without comment, but now she shook her head. “You ought not go, not yet. Your friend—”
“I can ride,” Bela said, her voice thick with effort. “If you bind my foot and bandage my leg, I can manage.”
“It will not be good enough,” Maryshka snapped. “Let me tell Jannik—”
“You cannot tell him anything he does not know,” Bela said. “We go. It’s best for us. It’s best for Ryz. Am I right?” she asked Ilse.
Ilse nodded.
Maryshka glared at them both. “I see. It’s a plague of idiocy. Very well. You leave today. We best help you prepare.”
* * *
BY EARLY AFTERNOON Ilse had washed all their clothes, cleaned and oiled their tack, and repacked their gear. When she returned to the Rudny household, she found Maryshka and Ana at work over the cook fire. Ana had baked a supply of flatbread for their journey, while Ivo had skinned a brace of rabbits, which Maryshka had cut into strips to roast over the fire. There was also a package of herbs that Bela would need for her journey, she told Ilse. Herbs to dull the pain. Herbs that boiled would ensure the infection did not return.
They were generous, too generous, Ilse thought. Jannik Maier was right to evict us.
She could not truly repay them, but she could offer a practical gift. Along with the money she had offered Jannik Maier, it might ensure Ryz’s survival through the next winter, even restore the village to its former prosperity. Silently she laid out six golden koruný on the worktable.
Maryshka paused at once. “What is that?”
“Call it reparations,” Ilse said. “You saved my friend’s life. You—”
“It’s a fortune,” Ana Rudny whispered. She touched the coins with her fingertips, as though she did not trust what she saw. Then she glanced up and stared at Ilse, her eyes widened in sudden apprehension.
She has heard rumors. Nothing specific, or she and her daughter would turn me out at once.
“It is not enough to repay you,” Ilse said. “Bela would have died without your care.”
“She might yet,” Maryshka said. “I told you before, she needs another month before she can think of travel.”
“I do not have another month,” Bela said. “Have you packed all our gear?” she asked Ilse.
