Chapter Two

The sun was rising when they finally stopped, and Gwen was nearly falling off her saddle.

“Do you know how to ride a horse?” One of the soldiers asked her as they helped her down.

“I haven’t ridden anything since a pony when I was just four. I don’t even remember it.”

The man grimaced. “You’ll learn. You have to now.”

“Umm... how do I... do I...” her face was flushed red and she couldn’t finish the question.

He cocked a brow at her, then slowly realized. He coughed into his hand. “Find a bush. Don’t go out of sight.”

It was the most awkward, most agonizing piss of her life. She could hear --and see!-- the men around her as they rummaged through sacks for dry bread and hard cheese. She could even hear a can being opened.

“We have nothing to feed the baby,” one of the men said after she ‘returned’ to their camp.

“I can nurse him,” she admitted softly. It wasn’t common for siblings to nurse siblings, but in a family of their size, she had thought that taking the milk-making potion would help her mother. “What’s in the can?” She asked a little louder.

“Brown gravy. For the bread.”

“What’s your name?”

“Eric. Eric of Dietenheim. I was tasked with retrieving you from Fort Vitdorf.”

“May I see your orders, Sir Eric?”

He sighed, then dug out a scroll. He did not hand them over. “Retrieve the Van Goch heir with post haste. The child should be a young adult by the name of ‘Gwenwhy’. Bring her to me. Tell no one, accept no delays. By the Grace of God, Emperor Iason Vespasian, Lord of the Land,” he read aloud, then tucked the scroll away again.

“Why did you call me princess?”

“You are His Excellency’s only heir.”

“Excuse me?”

“You are the last of the Vespasian bloodline.”

“But... what... what happened to Prince Adom? Is he not the heir?”

“His Grace, Prince Adom, may he rest in peace, fell in combat three weeks ago.”

“Surely... surely there’s someone else? Anyone, perhaps?”

“You are the last living soul.”

“The Emperor has an uncle?”

“He has died of pox.”

“My... my father wasn’t that wealthy. He was never in charge of much. I can’t--”

“The future lies with you. You are the future.”

“Surely His Excellency could remarry?”

“A marriage is no guarantee of children. As it stands, you are next --and last-- in line.”

She wanted to cry. She instead accepted the bread and cheese that he was holding out to her.

Everyone took turns dipping their bread in the gravy as they ate. It was still somewhat solid from not being heated. After eating, she fed little Thommie his breakfast, and many of the men averted their gazes.

Gwen knew it was indecent for a man to leer at a woman who was breastfeeding, but she felt as though she were outright offending them...

Thommie had been mostly calm so far, and she thought the horse’s galloping had been a great help. But now that he’d been fed, he had a poopy diaper and no easy for her to take care of it properly yet. She did her best --and he fussed and complained the whole time-- but she eventually got most of it taken care of and Thommie rewrapped. She wished she had a few more cloths for him.

“We need to get going,” Eric said once she was done. She re-tied Thommie’s bundle in a shawl around her, then the men helped her onto the horse. “Nudge the horse with your feet to slow down. Flick the reins to go faster,” he instructed, then climbed up onto his own horse. “Keep up, Princess.”

She took a deep breath, then flicked the reins. The horse started trotting. Then the knights quickly outpaced her. She flicked the reins again and --with a jolt-- the horse sped up.

***

The group pressed on at a rapid pace and avoided roads. Gwen knew that the capital was vaguely northwest, but had no understanding of how far. In truth, before her village had been evacuated to Fort Vitdorf, she’d never left it. Her father had been the county archivist, and it was assumed that she would be too. She had even been looking forward to it.

Now she sat against a beech tree, nursing Thommie in the middle of who-knows-where miles upon miles away from the world she grew up in.

The sun was high, and the horses were tired. Eric was letting them graze and drink their fill.

One of the soldiers approached her with a wineskin. “You should drink,” he said gently, holding the floppy sack out to her.

“You’re supposed to refrain from alcohol when nursing,” she said.

“Most of the water we’ll find on the road is dirty. You need to drink something clean.”

“I won’t risk my brother’s health.”

The man sighed. “That baby is only going to slow us down. It would’ve been better to leave him with your mother.”

“You’re allowed to hold your own opinions. Just as I am allowed to refuse them.”

“I don’t mean you harm, Mistress. It just isn’t wise to bring a babe on such a long journey.”

“I understand your position,” she said icily. “What is your name?”

“Dallen. Dallen of Verviers.”

“Mister Verviers, I would quite like to nurse my brother in peace, if you would please.”

He sighed. “Of course, Mistress.” He walked away and sat heavily on the grass, occasionally sending her dark looks that she ignored.

Eventually, Thommie had his fill and she burped him over her shoulder. While she was doing this, another knight came over and stood over her.

“May I sit with you?” he asked. He was older and his voice was gruff.

“Your name?”

“Florian Kappel, Your Grace.”

“Please, sit with me,” she offerred.

He sat on his knees before her. “If I go much lower, I might not get up,” he joked, his eyes half laughing and half telling the truth.

“What can I do for you, Sir Kappel?”

“The more proper question is ‘what do you need of me?’ ”

“Am I in need of something?”

“You’ve been very trusting with us, Your Grace.”

“Do I have need to be shrewd?”

“Yes. Some of these soldiers have families that have died in the war. Some of them are days from deserting.”

“What do you know of Mister Verviers? Do I have need to worry of him?”

“Dallen is a good man. Rough, opinionated, but loyal. Or I’m lying.”

Gwen’s brows drew together. “Well… that’s not very helpful.”

“We men are sworn to obey and sworn to deliver you. That does not mean that you need to be unharmed or in company of relatives.”

“Are you threatening me?”

“No, Your Grace.” He gave her a sad, tired smile. “Not every man here has a good heart; not every man here is loyal to the Vespasian line.”

“I’m not even that related,” Gwen said, inadvertently pleading to his ken. “Is it really true that there’s no one else?”

“No one who wants the empire to stand.”

“Then… what if I don’t either? I believe that the Emperor has mishandled this whole war effort, to start. I think the taxes on the layfolk are too high and on the affluent they are not high enough.”

“Some of those are dangerous opinions to have in Essen, Your Grace. Besides, if you were truly an enemy of the Empire, you would’ve joined the invaders.”

“I don’t condone their brutality. Just as I don’t condone that of the Empire.”

He pursed his lips and stared at Thommie thoughtfully. “I’m not going to say that you shouldn’t have brought him, Your Grace, but I will say that taking care of a baby does make your situation much more hazardous. Eric, Levin, and I can help where we can, but we cannot guarantee his safety.”

Gwen’s cheek twitched. “I’m not handing him to anyone.”

“Nor should you. Do not trust the men with the child. Sleep with him in your arms. Do not let him out of your sight. And… though it may be impolite, I might recommend not calling him your son.”

“Why would I do that?”

“Not saying you would. But those rumors will be hard to deny regardless.”

“He’s not my son.”

“I know. Eric told me. He will be assumed to be wherever you go.”

“Until my family joins us, I expect. It’s a pity that no one can keep their judgments to themselves.”

“What I’m trying to say, Princess, is that you’ll never truly be free --or safe-- ever again, and bringing your brother does make him a liability. I want you to know what you’re getting into.”

“I… I appreciate the concern. Thank you.”

“Of course, Your Grace.” He slowly pulled himself to his feet. "Take care of yourself."