Leda

Chapter Thirteen: Slipping

As soon as Leda passed through the city gates, she wanted to turn back. Perhaps Josen had been teasing her, after all. He seemed the kind of man who'd do so. Perhaps he'd been testing her to gauge her reaction ˗ perhaps a tactful but firm refusal would have sufficed, and Castor's attentions would have turned to some other hapless member of the court.

As the Hannac carriage hurtled through the darkness and dangers of the night, she asked herself why she had run. Had it been for the relative safety of Dal Reniac? For the reassurance of Edæc's warm arms? Or had it been for a deeper reason, a truth her mother had instilled in her since birth ˗ that there was no greater prize than freedom? That she would not ˗ she could not ˗ allow herself to be controlled in the way that Meracad had once been controlled by Bruno Nérac?

Even so, fear weighted her thoughts. She had left them all ˗ Mother, Hal and Marc ˗ alone at the palace. Alone to face Castor's mad rage, if he really had intended to propose to her. And if Hal lacked one thing, it was diplomacy. What if they were already dragging her away to prison ˗ and Mother too? Her heart cracked at the thought. She was on her feet ready to urge the coachman to turn back, when she realised that they had already slowed and were about to stop.

Where were they? Leda flicked up the blind and peered out. Not far from Colvé, she guessed. It seemed that a few, bare minutes had passed since she'd run into the stables at the palace, commanding Jac to take her North. No, she'd assured him, there was no need of the Hannac escort. Hal and Meracad would follow her immediately in Marc's carriage.

The night air smelt of damp, wet grass. A light lap of water over shingle carried on the breeze. Near Brennac so soon, then? Was it possible?

"Jac?" She called out to the silent sky. There was no reply. A current of cool air nipped at the canvas of the blind and shook it. She shivered. Clouds bricked out the moon and stars; the darkness bore solid weight. From somewhere near the water's edge, a man laughed.

"Jac?" Leda whispered this time, realising that there would be no reply. Boots crunched down gravel on the road, and then a brand flickered into life on her side of the carriage, followed by another...then another.

Sick with fear, Leda raised her seat and fumbled inside the box beneath. Her hands brushed against the rough wool of some travelling cloaks, and then the cold steel of a sabre. No matter how much they mocked Hal for it, she always insisted on travelling with an extra blade. Now Leda understood why.

Quietly, she lowered the seat and then pressed down the handle of the door to her left, sliding out onto the cold loneliness of the road. Phantom-like the lights jerked, swayed and then glided towards her. She made out nine, perhaps ten men and women sat astride horses, the torchlight bathing their faces with fire. Some wore rags; others the dark livery of the palace. Imperial guards?

Her hands shaking, she raised the sword before her face. "Who are you? Did the Emperor send you?"

"The Emperor?" With a snaggletoothed smile, one man leant forward in his saddle. He rubbed his head, feigning confusion. Then he cast a sly glance at the men in livery. "No, Lady. Although his men did make the mistake of passing this way some weeks ago."

The messengers to Hannac then. They'd never even made it as far as Brennac ˗ no wonder Hal hadn't heard of Diodiné's death. And if these people were desperate enough to attack an imperial convoy, they wouldn't think twice about taking the life of a woman travelling, like the idiot she was, alone. Why hadn't she taken the escort?

"Where's Jac?" Her teeth chattered so hard she could barely speak.

"Oh, Jac?" Snaggletooth peered up at the roof of the carriage. "He's just joined Castor's men ˗ taking a swim."

Her hands trembled so much she almost dropped the blade. "A swim?" she asked, swallowing.

"Yeah." The man scratched at his beard. "Not much of a swimmer, mind. Sank like a stone. Would you care for a dip, Lady?"

"Another time, perhaps." She struggled to steady her voice. "I must be on my way. A pleasure to meet you."

Her tormentor laughed at that. She scented the dull reek of stale ale on his breath. Behind her, the Hannac horses pawed and struck the ground, unnerved and spooked.

"Ah, no, now you see that won't be possible. We'll be needing a few things off you first. And then a few more things...and before you know it, you'll be enjoying that swim after all."

What was it Hal had taught her in those few ill advised duelling lessons? Never give yourself away. Never hint at your next move. To win a duel, you must slip your skin.

Would that work? It was her only chance. "As much as I would love to oblige you and your friends, I'm afraid I have other plans for the evening." Spinning around, she brought the flat of her blade down on a horse's flank. Already on edge, the animal bucked, its legs flailing ˗ sparking panic in its fellow. Screaming, they roared off into the night, several of her assailants trailing after them. She didn't stop then, slicing through the buckskin of Snaggletooth's doublet, eliciting a roar of pain.

"After her!" he grunted. "Seize the bitch!"

Leda ran, hands outstretched before her as if sleepwalking, the thud of falling hooves behind her. Ahead were trees, their wet branches swishing against the night breeze and beyond them the lake. This was a hunt, she realised, and she was the prey. She slipped on the mossy bark of a root, her ankle twisting beneath her. They were almost upon her, hooting and shouting into the darkness.

"She's over there!"

"No ˗ she's by the water! Take her!"

As the first wave lapped over her boots, soaking through the leather, she gasped. But there was nowhere else to go. Splash her way up or down the shore, and they'd pluck her from the lake like a fish reeled in on a line. Turn back, and she'd be trampled beneath their mounts. Something white floated past her in the darkness. She stifled a scream, recognising Jac stripped to his shirt and small clothes as he floated past her face down, his hair raked out around his head like fronds of pondweed. An icy spray of water drenched her back and she knew they were forcing their horses into the lake after her. Up to her waist now, her legs numb with cold, Leda took a breath and dived.

Beneath the surface was silence ˗ and gloom. Her lungs tightened, water flooding her throat. She clawed her way down as far as she could go, her hand trailing through silt and mud before she was forced to return to the surface, but the weight of her coat dragged her back. She kicked upwards, shrugging herself free of the sleeves and broke the waves choking and gasping for air, her mind now as hard and cold as ice itself. Her arms were lead weights, her legs refused to move, the cold was seeping into her blood, into the very marrow of her bones.

Leda managed to twist around, watching through dull eyes as the lights moved from the shoreline and back amongst the trees on the bank. She had stopped shivering and a strange, sleepy warmth crept in to replace the cold. She imagined herself crawling into bed beside Edæc, pulling him close, his arms warding away all danger. Her hair plastered to her brow, she milled the water with weakening limbs. That was what she wanted ˗ one more night with Edæc, to revel in his warmth. But that was not to happen. She sensed her dress billow out beneath her in the water. It was dragging her back down, and she could not stop it ˗ could not ˗ what? Slip her skin, as Hal had taught her. She was plunging down again, choking on the water. And as she fell beneath the surface, it seemed as if a light were brewing and burning from below. And rising steadily to meet her.