It was with a certain amount of satisfaction that I recognized the same Clan Johnston captain that had tried to rape Sara. At least I’d now paid them all back for their transgression.
But that raised fresh problems. If he was here, it meant that Clan Johnston were indeed trying to capture Sara and use her to implicate the Mackays in her disappearance. Did they already have the ear of the king? Were their forces moving on Mackay land right now?
I couldn’t afford to think about that. All I could do was push ahead and go after my princess.
My love.
My purpose.
The city should have been bustling with the news, so it was with some surprise that I found it quiet as I entered in the late afternoon. There was no whispering, no groups of folk tittering and speculating about the found princess. There were no town criers shouting the announcement, no dancing in the streets, no banners waving.
I had a sinking feeling as I wandered up the main street, heading toward the castle, then spotted three of the King’s Guard entering a tavern and followed them inside. I bought myself a pint at the bar, then took a seat at a table near theirs, hoping to hear something of what was going on.
They talked of soldiering and horses, of new swords and changes in the staffing of the guard. But they didn’t utter a word about Sara, not even in veiled terms.
Things were too normal, which told me something was definitely amiss.
I waited for them to finish one round and then another, so that the drink would help loosen their tongues, then I ordered another round for them and one for myself and made my approach. When the round of strong ale arrived at their table, they nodded their gratitude and I raised my mug to them in return.
“Any word about the stolen princess?” I asked.
The captain scoffed. “Stolen princess. That’s a phrase I haven’t heard uttered in a while, friend.”
His comrades laughed.
I narrowed my eyes in confusion. “I heard she was found.”
“Well I didn’t, and I think I would, don’t you? Rumors like that crop up every few years. Pay it no mind.” He rose, slightly woozy with drink, and told the other guards he was going to take a piss.
I held my tongue as I watched him leave, then turned my focus to the foot soldiers who might be more likely to speak without their captain nearby.
“That was the news I heard, just this morning. People say she’s the right age. Has the birthmark even.”
Their reactions were just the same as their captain’s. They didn’t seem to know that Sara had been returned, or to care about the news.
“The child is dead, sir,” said the younger guard of the two. “Mark my words. Been dead for eighteen years. May she rest in peace.”
I rose and straightened myself out, breathing deep as if to sober myself up. Then I stepped out into the now chilly evening, passing the captain with another nod as he returned.
Outside, the streets were quiet. The night soil men were beginning their rounds, the women of pleasure were starting up their evening trade, but there was no sign of celebration.
Something was wrong, I was sure of it.
If news of Sara wasn’t everywhere by now, it meant someone was keeping her a secret. It meant King Rowan didn’t know she had returned. My insides spun and twisted at the thought.
I had to find her. There was no time to waste.
Sara
When my hood was removed, I was in a set of rooms that were as luxurious as they were frigid. I looked out the window and saw there was no glass in the window frames, which were covered with lattice wound through with dry vines.
From the paintings on the walls, showing blooming summer flowers and sunshine in the fields, I gathered I was probably in the queen’s summer quarters, far away from curious ears and eyes at this time of year.
The queen sat across the room from me, with a goblet of wine in hand. Next to her at the table sat Bardo, looking pale and as if he wished he were somewhere else.
“I told you, my queen, that she was the true stolen princess.”
“And why, pray tell, was she not turned into pig feed eighteen years ago?” The queen glared at him over her goblet. “I haven’t been paying you to keep her hidden all these years, you stupid man. I’ve been paying for your silence, but now here she is. My biggest problem in the flesh. Alive and well and….” She now turned her gaze towards me. “…unacceptably beautiful. At the very least you could have disfigured her. Made her unrecognizable. Carved out that God-awful birthmark.”
“My queen,” whimpered Bardo. “I have faithfully discharged all of your orders. She was lodged with a good man from the town where I grew up. He knows to keep his tongue, it all ran like clockwork. It was never clear to me that you wanted her dead.”