Mara huffed a laugh. “The official story is that he was killed when he fell from his horse while racing with Uncle Julius. But I’ve had servants tell me that Papa didn’t want to race in the first place, and that there was a burr in his saddle that my mother had put there.”
I gaped, no idea what to say.
“I believe it’s true,” she went on, adjusting how she sat and making a face as she did. Riding in the back of a wagon for hours on end wasn’t comfortable for anyone, even the rebellious niece of a king. “I loved my Papa, and I will never forgive any of them for killing him.” She looked back toward Royersford again. “That’s why I had to leave.”
I couldn’t decide if it was too much of an imposition or not, but I took a risk and asked, “Are you hoping to find your Uncle Magnus in the frontier?”
Mara glanced back to me again, almost like she was offended. “I intend to make my own way in a new life,” she said. Her glance flickered to Lucius, making me wonder once again if there was something between the two of them. She softened, then continued with, “I wouldn’t say no if Uncle Magnus wanted to give me a place to live and to make me a citizen of his kingdom. I never met him, though. He was gone before I was born.”
That was true. Magnus and Rurik had fled for the frontier almost twenty years before.
“I’ll introduce you,” I said with a grin, nudging her arm. “Magnus and I go way back. Well, I go way back with his husbands, Neil and Peter.”
Mara laughed tiredly. “I should probably be shocked that my uncle is married to two men—”
“Two men half his age,” I added.
Mara grinned. “But I’m not shocked at all. Gerzias are shameless libertines.”
“Magnus took his old lover Rurik’s name, you know. He goes by Magnus Gravlock now,” I said.
Mara hummed. “I like him even more.”
It was a pleasant moment, and as the sun rose behind us, I counted myself lucky that Mara had become such a close friend. It was a bit maudlin, but I had come to think of her as my sister. Even though we’d nearly fucked that one time.
We stayed silent for a while, watching the sun rise behind us and studying the countryside around us. I wished I’d paid more attention to the geography of the Old Realm, both when I was in school and during the previous trips I’d made, few though they were. The land we traveled across was mostly flat. The hills didn’t start until we were another day closer to Aktau, and there wasn’t anything close to a forest for miles.
The only thing I could see as the sun came up and illuminated the land were farms that had yet to be planted. It was just a bit too early for that, but as the morning wore on, I noticed more than a few teams of oxen with plows working in the fields to prepare the soil for planting.
What I didn’t see anywhere around us were armies or soldiers of any sort. And it wasn’t for lack of looking for them. As the sun got higher in the sky, I even stood up in the wagon, held a hand to my forehead, and searched as far as I could see.
“I don’t think they’re coming after us,” Appius said, a bit of awe in his voice.
A sick feeling swooped into my stomach. I hadn’t stopped to think that soldiers might be sent after us once we were discovered missing.
That feeling got worse when Lucius quietly muttered, “I just hope that they don’t punish people at the college for the six of us going missing.”
I nearly vomited. Because that was exactly what they would do. General Reuben had killed men for no reason at all. How would he react if six students suddenly went missing after a call to the south hills? Would six students be killed in revenge? More? Would the magisters have to answer for us? Would the entire college be closed and everyone within its walls murdered to atone for our escape?
“Magister Marcellus and Magister Titus are smarter than that,” Mara said, staring hard at me as I sank to sit on the opposite side of the wagon from her. “Magister Marcellus is the one who made this all possible and who encouraged us to flee. He must have some sort of contingency plan for when we turn up missing.”
It was a small relief to think about that. It was true. Just because he hadn’t asked us what our specific plans for escape were or hadn’t sat us all down for supper to discuss ways to keep the college safe, that didn’t mean he hadn’t been making plans right along with us.
“He has to have a contingency in place,” Darius said, sounding like he was trying to convince himself more than comfort me. “He…he probably convinced the soldiers that we all returned to the college on our own. He’ll probably convince everyone that we’re still there for months.”
“Or until General Reuben’s next inspection,” Lucius muttered.
I glared at him. I didn’t need that hint of truth right then.
Leander shook his head. “He’ll convince everyone we’ve graduated,” he said. “Our group was nearing the end of the course anyhow. I bet he’ll tell General Reuben, and anyone else who asks, that we graduated early and were sent on our way.”
That seemed realistic too. It was the only hope I had to hold onto as we rolled along, traveling as far as we could that day.
Although we couldn’t travel indefinitely. The oxen needed to rest. The poor beasts had put in more than a day’s work, and they started to show signs of distress shortly after noon.
“We’ll let them rest for the remainder of the day,” Horacio said as we stopped by a stream that was running hard and fast with the spring melt-off. “We all need the rest too. We’ll keep going after dark.”
It was a good plan. Horacio parked the wagon in a thicket beside the stream where it could be sheltered from the rest of the traffic on the road. We weren’t hidden entirely, and therewastraffic on the road, but no one seemed interested in our business. A few of the wagons that passed on the road stopped to water their horses or oxen at the stream as well, but since the six of us stayed out of sight as much as possible, none of their drivers asked any questions.