Cas said, “You mean his sister?”
“Not just Clara,” Esti said. “His parents and his three little brothers. The pestilence took them all.”
The new route would take them west for several days before continuing south. They stopped for a midafternoon meal in an open field. Across the road were woodlands, a pleasant assortment of evergreens and autumn foliage. Before long, brightly colored blankets had been spread about for the queen and her few attendants. The food wagons distributed enough cold chicken to tide everyone over until supper. Cas ate standing up with a group of soldiers; they licked their drumsticks clean and tossed them onto a growing pile of bones.
Commander Terranova strode by without a word. The woman in purple trailed behind him, a hand on his arm. He stopped at a food wagon and spoke briefly with a cook, who reached into a chest and produced a battered serving spoon. The commander tucked the spoon into his belt and headed across the field to the woodlands.
“What’s gotten into him?” one of the men asked.
“None of our business,” another answered.
“Just a question. He was fine the other day. This morning he’s biting everyone’s head off.”
“Don’t be so hard on the man. He had to leave his bride behind. They’ve been married what? One month? Two?”
“Puh. I have a wife too.”
“Yes, but you were happy to leave her.”
Cas chuckled with the others, but as he made quick work of his fifth drumstick, his mind was busy. If the spirit was the commander’s wife, she was alive no longer. Why hadn’t these men heard of her passing? And if her death was recent, why had Commander Terranova accepted this mission? He could have remained behind to mourn. Another would have taken his place.
A baby’s cry pierced the air. Cas looked around to see the queen by the blankets, reaching down to take a wailing Prince Ventillas from Esti.
“That’s a lonely sight, isn’t it?” one of the men said softly.
Cas stopped mid-chew.
“None of our business,” another warned, after a look in Cas’ direction.
The first soldier turned defensive. “Wasn’t going to say anything bad. Queen Jehan’s nice for a Brisan. She knows my name.”
“Mine, too.” There were murmurs of agreement.
The queen was walking the prince in circles around the blanket and patting his back. The baby continued to cry. Esti came up to her, but the queen shook her head and pointed to the food wagons.
“Maybe you should go sing to him, Lord Cassia,” a soldier suggested with a grin.
The man nearest Cas eyed him curiously. “You can sing?”
“No,” Cas said.
“Puh. You didn’t hear him singing the lullabies to little Lady Clara. Made all the women’s hearts flutter. My heart fluttered too, a little bit.”
Cas felt his lips curve. He tossed a chicken bone at the soldier, who knocked it away, laughing. Cas left to the sounds of good-natured teasing.
Cas kept to the edge of the woods, within sight of the guards spread about the road. He had offered to take the prince for a walk so that the queen and Esti could eat in peace. Holding Prince Ventillas was like holding a sack full of feathers. The baby felt almost weightless in his arms. His head bobbed about as he took in his surroundings in wonder: the sky, the trees, the inner workings of Cas’ ear. Cas walked the length of the train twice before the prince dropped off into sleep. Cas turned back, intending to return him to his mother, when he heard an odd sound coming from the woods.
A person gasping, choking. Someone was hurt, and without stopping to think, Cas headed into the woods at a fast clip.
Commander Terranova knelt before a tree, shoulders shaking, crying so violently it did indeed sound like a man choking. He had dug a small hole at the base of the tree. The spirit in purple hovered by him, ever fainter. Cas had frozen in horror, terrified the prince would wake and give their presence away. When he glanced behind him, he saw that the two guards who had followed stood as still as frightened deer. Cas turned back to see the commander take the pouch from his wrist and place it in the hole before covering it up with dirt.
The prince yawned, and the small puff of air against Cas’ neck jolted him into action. Carefully, he backed away, sliding his boots along the thick woodland carpeting. The two guards did the same. When Cas reached the road, they were waiting for him. All three let out a relieved breath. “Not a word,” Cas warned. “Never,” one answered. The other nodded vigorously. They went their separate ways. Cas made it back across the field and was handing the prince over to Esti when Commander Terranova emerged. Troubled, Cas watched him return to his horse and converse with several officers. There was no sign of the woman in purple.
As the train prepared to journey on, Cas retraced his footsteps into the woods. A patch of overturned dirt told him it was the right tree. He hunkered down and, using a spoon he had swiped off the queen’s tray, started to dig.
It did not take long before he discovered the black velvet pouch. He tugged at the drawstring and looked inside.
And found a little finger.
Cas’ mind flew in every direction as he returned the finger to its grave. He searched the woods until the first wagons rolled away, but he never saw Commander Terranova’s wife again.
That night, the fog came from nowhere. Cas was in the royal carriage because he was the only one who had been able to sing young Ventillas to sleep.
He could not say what woke him. The lantern swaying by his head showed that everyone else slept, the prince in a basket by the queen’s feet. Cas lifted a corner of the window covering. A stinging cold struck him in the face. The fog was so thick he could not see beyond the reach of his arm. Not able to use his eyes, he used his ears. A carriage wheel struck a rock, and the queen stirred.
“What is it?” she asked quietly.
Cas pulled his head in, spoke just as softly. “The carriages have left too big a gap. I can’t hear the others.”
Esti smiled in her sleep, hands tucked beneath her chin like a child.
The queen lifted her window covering and dropped it just as quickly as the cold blew in. Shivering, she pulled her cloak tighter around her shoulders. “Close the window, please.”
Cas made to do just that when the fog lifted momentarily, long enough for him to see their immediate surroundings using the driver’s meager torchlight.
“Lord Cassiapeus, the window—”
Cas dropped the cover. Whatever showed on his face had her sitting up. She mouthed the question What is it?
Cas reached over and shook Esti awake. He held a finger to his lips. “We’re not on the main forest road. We’ve turned off somewhere.” How could they have been separated from the others?
Now Esti was wide-awake, listening.
The queen glanced at her child, peacefully asleep. “What should we do?”
Before Cas could answer, the carriage rolled to a stop.
“Good evening.”
A female voice. Cas had no trouble recognizing it. Neither did the queen, who froze.