Lions in the Garden by Chelsea Luna
“Do you trust me?” Marc asked.
The tension rolled off my shoulders as I slid back into him, letting him support me. “Yes, I do.”
“Kristoff, you and Marc go get some meat,” Urek said as we stopped before sunset to camp. “Maybe you can find a hog or something.”
“Me?” Marc turned.
“From what I hear you’re the expert hunter, and I want meat for dinner.” Urek tossed a shoddy bow and a quiver of arrows to Marc. “Will this work?”
Marc caught it. “I suppose.”
I didn’t like this. I didn’t want to be left alone with Urek.
Marc and I made eye contact as he headed into the woods. His eyes softened and I lowered my gaze to the grass before our exchange was noticed. I felt a panic-filled rush of nervousness as Marc disappeared into the forest with Kristoff.
Jiri busied himself with the campfire while Urek sat on a rock watching me. I felt wary with Marc no longer by my side. I fingered the torn hem of my gown. The bottom of the green dress was ragged from the last forty-eight hours. The bone-laced corset dug into my ribs and I wanted nothing more than to strip down and take a bath in one of Branka’s hot-water tubs. I smiled to myself, thinking about my maid. I missed her. If only I’d listened to her and stayed in the room, then none of this would have happened.
The weight of Urek’s stare grew heavy. I could see his anger at me welling up inside of him. I stood.
“Where are you going?” Urek asked.
“To relieve myself. I’ll be on the other side of those trees.”
I didn’t wait for his approval. I headed into the woods and set about the strenuous task of maneuvering my petticoats and undergarments. I gathered all of my skirts in my arms—
“You didn’t think you’d get off that easy, did you, Blue Eyes?” Urek appeared from the bushes.
I stumbled back against a tree, my skirts tumbling from my arms.
Urek’s dirty fingers rose to touch my cheek, but I flinched away. I tried to run, but he lunged at me. He snatched me by the arms, locking my hands against my body.
“Jiri! Help me!” I screamed to the campsite.
“Quit your yapping!” Urek slammed me to the ground.
Pain radiated through my back and my breath rushed out of me. I screamed, but Urek wrapped his hand around my neck and squeezed. He straddled me and crushed his fingers together, sealing off my air. I kicked my legs, trying to throw him off, but he was too heavy. Urek leered down at me. I couldn’t pass out. I couldn’t afford to be unaware.
I struggled to focus on something, anything, but I saw only Urek’s scarred face as he squeezed my throat and darkness ebbed my vision.
Chapter Ten
I was too weak to fight back. My hands had gone limp. A hollow ringing sounded in my ears. Urek swiped at me with his free hand and tore my bodice. The satin ripped.
I tried to push the fabric back in place to cover myself, but my hands wouldn’t work. Urek fumbled with his pants with his free hand and I screamed again, but my throat was too raw. No sound came out.
Something rustled in the trees behind us.
Urek’s head snapped up. His grip around my neck released as he scrambled to his feet. His pants were unbuttoned, so they sagged around his waist, slowing his reaction time to grab his knife.
I sucked in gulps of air, rolling over onto my stomach and greedily inhaling as much as possible. What was that sound? An animal? I lifted my head as Marc ripped through the bushes with his sword drawn.
Urek reached to draw his knife, but Marc moved too quickly. Marc’s blade stopped at Urek’s throat. Urek dropped his knife and raised his hands in the air. A sneer spread across his face. “I guess you got me, Sýkora.”
Marc held the point of his sword on Urek.
Jiri sprinted through the trees and skidded to a stop. His eyes widened. “Marc, what are you doing?”
“Yes, Marc, what are you doing?” Urek mocked.
“You were supposed to watch her!” Marc snagged Jiri by his shirtfront and brought his face inches from Jiri. He shoved his little brother backward. “What’s wrong with you?”
Jiri stumbled backward but caught his footing before he fell.
The muscles in Marc’s forearm bulged. Veins swelled under his skin. He turned his anger from Urek to his brother. “How could you let this pig drag her off into the woods? Can’t you do anything right? Ever? Where’s your honor?”
“Those are harsh words, Marc.” Urek’s hands were still in the air. “That’s not a very nice thing to say to your little brother.”
Marc ignored Urek. His eyes flickered to me on the ground. “Mila, are you all right?”
I nodded, unable to find words. My throat was raw and spots floated in my vision.
Marc helped me to my feet just as Kristoff exploded through the bushes. “What in the hell’s going on?”
Urek’s eyes narrowed. “Marc took issue with me getting acquainted with Blue Eyes.”
Marc shifted in front of me.
“I think we need to calm down,” Jiri said. “We’re all on edge.”
“I’m not the one with my weapon drawn,” Urek said.
“Marc, can you lower your blade?” Jiri asked.
The sword fell to Marc’s side, but he didn’t sheath the weapon.
A strange expression claimed Kristoff’s face. He tilted his head at Marc. “You pulled a sword on Urek over a girl? A girl that’s not even yours?”
“He attacked her,” Marc said. “I stopped him.”
Urek transferred his weight to the balls of his feet. “What do you care what happens to the girl?”
“Because Marc knows her,” Kristoff said.
“What?” Urek jerked his head toward Kristoff. “What are you talking about? How would Marc know her?”
“I haven’t quite figured that one out yet.” Kristoff’s light eyes fell on me, trying to read my expression. “But he does. Have you seen the way he acts toward her? He’s in love with her.”
“In love?” Urek scoffed.
Jiri fidgeted.
“I met her for the first time yesterday,” Marc said dryly. “And it’s called showing compassion. She’s a lady and you’re treating her like an animal.”
“No.” Kristoff shook his head. “I don’t think so. Tell him, Jiri. How did you get into the castle the other night? You were supposed to be positioned outside the gate as the lookout. Then, a few days before the heist, you told me you had access inside the castle. If I remember correctly, all your brothers were there with you that night.”
Jiri swallowed. “I—”
“So what?” Marc cut his brother off. “It’s not a secret that I went to the ball with Jiri and Henrik.”
“How would you get an invitation?” Kristoff asked. “Since when are the Sýkora boys rubbing elbows with the nobility?”
Marc jabbed his thumb at me. “Do you honestly think Ludmila Nováková invited me to the ball? She’s engaged to the duke. I’m a blacksmith.”
“You two seem pretty cozy together,” he retorted. “And you pulled a sword on Urek.”
“Urek attacked a defenseless young woman. If you want to use her as ransom, she needs to be in the exact condition as when you took her. If you understand my meaning,” Marc’s voice rose.
Kristoff’s eyes moved to me. I pressed my torn bodice against my chest.
“There’s only one way to find out what’s really going on.” Urek turned to Jiri. “How did you get an invitation to Rudolf’s ball? Don’t you dare look at your brother.”
“Don’t threaten him,” Marc warned.
Jiri swallowed. “I got the invitation from my brother.”
My stomach sank. Jiri was going to rat us out. Marc’s fingers tightened around his sword’s handle.
“How did your brother get an invitation?” Urek pressed.
“Henrik delivers swords to the castle and one of the generals gave him an invitation as a gift. All three of us went, but I didn’t tell Henrik and Marc ab
I exhaled.
“Does Marc know her?”
“No better than you or me.” Jiri’s neck had broken out in splotchy red hives, but the men didn’t seem to notice.
Kristoff stared at me while Jiri was questioned. Why was he so suspicious? Why did he hate Marc so much?
“What do you want to do, Sýkora? Fight to the death? Defend her honor? Because I want to eat this damn squirrel in peace and then get some sleep.” He gradually reached down and retrieved his knife. He pointed the blade at Marc. “I’d tread lightly if I were you.”
Urek marched back to the camp with Kristoff on his heels. Jiri glanced sideways at Marc before scampering off after them. We watched the men disappear through the bushes.
Marc planted his sword blade in the soft grass. He closed his eyes and breathed in deeply. When he opened his eyes, he gathered me in his arms and crushed me against his chest. “I’m so sorry,” he whispered into my hair. “I won’t leave you alone again. I promise.”
I wrapped my arms around his waist.
The fire crackled on the other side of the thick row of trees. We released each other before the others could stumble upon our embrace.
Marc stepped back and looked at me. “You’re a mess.”
I held the torn bodice in place with my hand.
He retrieved a coil of thin rope from his sack. He tossed the cord from hand to hand, staring at my broken bodice. His frown deepened as his gaze moved to the three red scratch marks decorating the skin above my breast.
“I think I can fix your dress.” He moved closer and his finger grazed my collarbone.
The touch ignited sparks inside of me.
He made a hole in the satin with his dagger and weaved the rope through. He pulled the string up and around the bodice and over my shoulder. It looked ridiculous, but when he was finished, the dress was whole again and I no longer had to hold the torn piece against my chest.
“Thanks,” I whispered.
“Are you all right?”
I shuddered. “These men—”
“I have to get you out of here.” Marc looked at the fire flickering through the trees. “They’re going to kill us both very soon.”
“What about Jiri?”
“I’ll have to figure something out. I think they still trust him for now. Let’s get back before they come looking for us.”
I followed Marc through the trees and we sat on the other side of the fire. Our arrival stopped the conversation among the three men and they lapsed into silence. It was a bad sign. Marc was right—there was a shift, with animosity being directed toward us. Would it be safe to sleep tonight? What about Jiri? Was he safe?
“I suppose you can add tailor to your list of specialties, Sýkora.” Urek eyed my modified dress. “You are a talented man.”
“If Kristoff or Jiri rips your shirt, I’ll fix yours for you, too,” Marc said.
Urek laughed. “Too bad he fixed your dress, Blue Eyes. I kind of liked it torn.”
“I liked it ripped, too,” Kristoff said. “It gets me excited to see a bit of that royal skin. Come to think of it, I miss the lady’s company. I’ll take her back on my horse tomorrow when we leave. We can get better acquainted.”
Marc ran his finger down the flat part of his sword’s blade. “Maybe next time she’ll break your jaw to match the broken nose.”
Kristoff’s smile disappeared.
“Let’s eat.” Jiri carved the squirrel and handed out pieces of meat.
I gladly took my share—I was starving and I knew Jiri was attempting to defuse the tension. The squirrel was oily but delicious—I devoured it in three bites.
Marc slipped me his squirrel, but I declined. He needed the food more than I did.
The rest of the meal passed in silent glares. The atmosphere between the men was hostile and I was doubtful we’d get through the night without a fight.
“You should get some rest,” Marc said.
“Me? You haven’t slept in two days,” I said.
“I’ll be fine.”
I curled up on the grass beside him. I longed to touch him, just as I had at the ball when we stood by the pillar. I studied Marc’s features from where I lay—the angular planes of his cheekbones, the shadowy stubble on his strong jaw, the dark shade of his hair.
He must’ve felt my stare because he glanced down at me. Our eyes met and he gave me a reassuring nod before he mouthed the words: “Go to sleep.”
I closed my eyes and drifted off.
A hand clamped over my mouth and woke me from a deep sleep. My eyes flipped open and I shot up from the grass. Marc was in front of me. It was his hand secured over my mouth, stifling my screams. He held a finger to his lips. A silent plea to be quiet.
I relaxed when I realized it was Marc and I wasn’t being attacked again. Urek and Kristoff were asleep around the campfire. Jiri was gone.
Marc’s cheek brushed against mine as he whispered in my ear. “Follow me. Very quietly.”
I slowly rose to my feet, inch by inch, cursing the crumpling sound my dress made with each movement. Urek released a throat-clearing snore and rolled over. I froze, but now his back was to us. I gathered the bulk of my gown and followed Marc away from the campfire.
We crept down a slope and around a giant flowering tree. The ground was littered with thousands of white petals, and Jiri was waiting there for us with his mare, a worn gray sack fastened to her back. There was only one horse. It was too risky to take Marc’s stallion because the animal was tied to a tree near Urek.
“Come with us,” Marc whispered.
Jiri shook his head, and his hair fell in his eyes. “Nah, it’s my mess. I’ll deal with it.”
“You can still walk away. It’s not too late.”
“No, I can’t. I’m in too deep,” Jiri said. “If I leave, they’ll hunt me down and then they’ll kill you, Henrik, and Dad. I’m not going to let that happen. I’ll straighten this out. Take Mila and get out of here.”
“They’ll kill you if they find out you helped us escape,” Marc said.
“That’s why you’re going to hit me in the face as hard as you can and then steal my horse.” Jiri broadened his stance and lifted his jaw. “Go ahead. I’m ready.”
“No.”
“You have to,” Jiri said. “There’s no other way to do this, Marc. You have to make it look like I wasn’t involved. My life depends on it.”
Marc sighed.
“Come on,” Jiri whispered. “You’ve been wanting to punch me for a long time.”
Marc snorted. “A very long time.”
“See? Go ahead. Oh, wait a second.” Jiri turned to me and squeezed my hand. “I’m sorry, Ludmila, I didn’t mean to get you involved in this mess. I apologize.”
“Thank you, Jiri.”
“And I’m sorry, Marc. I really mean it this time. Tell Dad and Henrik, too. I put two gems in a sack for you to give to Dad for the cause. I’ll get more to you later, but I can’t give you my whole share now because Urek will notice.” Jiri squared his shoulders. “I’m ready. Hit me. Remember, it has to be hard enough to knock me out.”
Marc embraced his little brother. His hand slid to the back of his head and he ruffled Jiri’s hair. “Be smart, Jiri.”
“I will. I love you.”
Marc squeezed his hand into a fist. “I love you, too.”
The quick blow landed squarely on his jaw. Jiri crumpled to his knees, but Marc caught him before he hit the ground. He lowered his brother’s body to the grass and shook his head. “Let’s go before someone wakes up.”
We mounted Jiri’s mare and Marc guided the horse silently through the trees until we were far enough away from the campsite to gallop.
“Where are we headed?” I asked.
“Right now, as far away from Urek as possible.”
“Will Jiri be all right?”
“I hope so,” Marc said. “We’ll ride until we find a village. After we rest, we can de
I couldn’t think of anything better than eating or sleeping, and doing both seemed like an impossible dream. The sun rose from behind the mountains just as we found a village nestled in a clearing.
Marc guided the mare down the dirt road. A cluster of thatch-roofed wooden houses were scattered around the path in no particular order. It was too early for anyone to be awake, but a few random animals—mostly goats and chickens—wandered freely through the village.
A dark smear of color was spread over each doorway. Along with the strange markings were bulbs of garlic dangling from a string nailed to the doorframe. Every building in the village had these identical markers.
“That’s not paint, is it?” I asked. The sight made me nervous, even in the cheerful early morning hour.
“It’s blood. It’s supposed to ward off vampires and other evil things if you spread it over your doorway with garlic.”
I twisted around to see if he was kidding, but he wasn’t. “Vampires?”
He shrugged. “Peasants are superstitious, especially way out here in the middle of nowhere. They’re afraid of things they can’t explain.”
I remembered my first venture into Kivoklát Forest when I’d witnessed the funeral procession. The villagers had carried the open coffin displaying the deceased with his head separated from his body. Did they really think the man was a vampire? How could they believe in such foolishness?
“Whose blood is it?” I asked.
“A goat, maybe?” One side of Marc’s mouth lifted. “Don’t worry, I’ll protect you from the dead.”
The road ended at a two-story inn. I followed Marc inside, careful not to look too closely at the smeared blood over the threshold. The sour odor of stale beer permeated the empty room. Five wooden tables stretched from wall to wall.
A woman swept the floor behind the counter. She didn’t look up from her task. “We’re closed.”
“We’ve traveled through the night and my wife is extremely tired,” Marc said. “Could we purchase a room?”
My spine prickled when Marc used the word “wife.” The lady regarded the state of my disheveled dress. I tucked my hair behind my ear, smoothed the wrinkly green satin, and offered her a friendly smile, knowing I looked like a disaster.