Page 16 of Arrows and Gems
“What have you brought me?” he asked jovially. Glancing over the wounded men, he grinned wider before doing a double take. “A woman?”
His eyes narrowed, examining Helena’s tangled braid, bloodied dress, and sturdy bonds. Helena narrowed hers right back.
“A liberated captive, General,” Erwan supplied, his eyes darting toward Helena for a moment. “The bandit left her behind when he fled.”
“Liberated? Then why is she still bound?” The General’s eyebrows lifted as he turned toward the guard. His tone became teasing. “You wouldn’t be trying to sneak a member of Le Capuchon’s band past me, would you?”
Erwan rolled his shoulders in a shrug, but it looked uneasy. “Not intentionally. She claims to be a simple traveler, and she was like this when we found her.”
The General’s gaze transferred to Helena. Eyes crinkling, he joked, “You aren’t allied with our elusive friend, are you? Ifyou were, I would have to haul you to the capital for execution.”
“He shot me because I tried to take off his hood,” Helena growled, pushing all of her pain and frustration forward. She scowled at the General. “Does that sound like an ally to you?”
“His hood?” General Valentin set his hands on the edge of the cart, leaning forward eagerly. “Did you see his face?”
She opened her mouth to tell him the little she’d seen when Le Capuchon was hovering over her. But something held her back.
“A brown beard,” she finally offered when the General’s eyes darkened. “He was quick to cover his face again; I wouldn’t recognize him in a crowd.”
The General’s forehead creased with disappointment. “That is unfortunate; I had hoped to finally identify him. It would be much easier to recover your lost belongings.” He sighed. “But his confounded hood continues to defeat us.”
“Is that why you call him Le Capuchon, then?” Helena asked, amused despite herself. “Because his hood is so annoying?”
A strange look crossed his face. “Why do you say that?”
Pinching her brows together, she watched him while she answered, “Because Le Capuchon is Old Amitian for ‘the hood’?”
“Is it?” Pleasure bloomed across the General’s face, making him look like the old cat at Reineggburg the time she’d snuck it some cream. Satisfaction filled his voice. “He is familiar with the old languages.”
The bandit must have named himself. Helena felt a momentary wince, but a throb in her shoulder dismissed any unease over the slip. She owed Le Capuchon nothing.
Arching an eyebrow, she asked, “Will you free me now and take me to my destination? It is the least you could do to repay your negligence. Had you not allowed a bandit to roam yourmountains for so long, I wouldn’t be in this mess.”
Erwan’s eyes widened, but Helena ignored him, keeping her focus on the General. For a breath, she thought he might be angry, but his face quickly smoothed. “And what is your destination, nameless traveler?”
“I came to Amitié to visit my friend, Lady Marielle Dracovich de Bouclier.” She needed someplace to heal while she figured out how to recover her belongings. “And my name is Margit.”
The General waited, but when she failed to provide her family name, he gave her a tiny nod. “We are returning to Laurier; it would be my pleasure to escort you to her family’s home there.”
Helena hesitated. The only Amitians she’d met prior to her trip were her cousin Marielle and Aunt Chloe – growing up in an isolated castle and spending twelve years in a cursed sleep limited one’s acquaintance. No one in the capital would recognize her, but she didn’t want word of Marielle’s “friend Margit” to spread. She certainly didn’t want to give the wrong name when she met Marielle’s other royal cousins...assuming Aunt Chloe and Uncle Felix allowed her the anonymity at all.
“I didn’t come for the court scene,” she said stiffly, lifting her chin and mimicking the haughty posture that the Ralnoran noblewomen had perfected. “I am headed for her country estate.”
Please, Marielle, be at the country estate right now.
Folding his arms over his chest, General Valentin studied her with that friendly grin of his. He really did have a distinguished air about him; if Helena were two decades older, she might find him attractive. But she wasn’t, and she didn’t trust strangers anyway.
So why had she sought out abanditthat she’d never met before?
Good question. Perhaps her curse had addled her brain. Or perhaps her encounter with him had reminded her of the wisdom of keeping to herself.
“I did not plan to travel so far north.” The General began to turn away. “However, if Lady Marielle is not in town at the moment, I’m sure her parents—”
“Princess Chloe and Prince Felix should not be inconvenienced because of your incompetence,” Helena interrupted. She could picture the horrified look on her mother’s face, but Helena was enjoying the verbal freedom of her false identity. “Loan me a horse and provide funds for traveling or send me with one of your guards; it makes no difference to me if you do not come yourself.”
He laughed, a booming, boisterous sound. “Loan a horse to a stranger? How do you know Lady Marielle, Margit? Why is a foreign lady in our kingdom without guards or companions of her own?”
“I fail to see how that is your business.” She blew her hair out of her face and stared him down. “I’m a grown woman capable of making my own travel plans.”
