I watched my husband’s half-grin as he rubbed his thumb over the spot where the child had kicked.
“So strong,” Branford said. He looked back up at my face and followed the movement of his hand with his eyes. He caught my chin between his thumb and forefinger and then turned me toward him, his voice still soft. “You must be so tired of carrying him. I know he has made it hard for you to sleep, and the heat of the day is uncomfortable for you.”
“I am so sorry, my king,” I whispered, but he hushed me with his lips.
“As soon as we reach Sawyer Castle, I will make sure you are taken to the lower levels, where it is cooler. You will be more comfortable there and may even be able to nap while I gather the horses.”
I could only nod in response, glad Branford seemed to understand my reaction better than I did myself. It occurred to me that he had spoken with Sunniva only a fortnight ago when I had been unable to stop crying after dropping that cup of cider.
Though it was too warm for such closeness, I lay my head on Branford’s shoulder as he fanned my face. At least I could close my eyes for a time though I was not able to doze. The road was simply too rocky, and the carriage bumped along too much. I wondered if we could possibly put some of the refugees to work smoothing out the road between Silverhelm and Sawyer and was about to mention it to Branford when the carriage came to an abrupt stop.
Branford lay his hand against my cheek as he encouraged to me to sit up so he could check on the trouble outside. As he moved toward the carriage door, two of the guards rode up to the side of the carriage, and Branford peered out at them.
“My king—the road is blocked.”
“By whom?” Branford asked. “We are in Silverhelm. No one should block the road from me!”
“I do not know, my king, but there are many soldiers…”
“Soldiers?” Branford whispered low as his eyes darted over to glance first at my eyes and then at my belly.
And that was when I knew we were in danger.
Chapter 4—Violently Captured
The look in Branford’s eyes hardened, and I knew in my heart it was only to hide his own terror. His hands clenched into fists for a moment before he placed one on the hilt of his sword and the other on the handle of the door.
“Do not leave this carriage.”
I could only nod, understanding immediately that there was to be no arguing with Branford on this matter. I could see him glancing at the bench underneath where we sat, and the thoughts that plagued his mind were evident to me. I yearned to reach out and offer him comfort, but there was no time. I would have even tried to stuff myself inside the bench if it would have lessened his worry, but there was no possible way for an adult to fit inside, let alone one who carried a child inside of her.
His gaze met mine once more, and he seemed to want to say something else but turned away from me instead. Branford exited the carriage, and I did not miss that he drew his sword as the door closed behind him, shielding my view. I shifted myself close to the door. I could still hear though the sounds were somewhat muffled.
“They have no markings,” one of the guards said.
“Mercenaries,” replied another voice. “Many of them.”
“Turn!” I heard Branford order. “We must head back!”
“It is too late, sire!”
“Draw your weapons!”
Within seconds, I heard the first clash of steel-on-steel. I covered my mouth with my hands though I was sure any scream I uttered would not have been heard over the noise right outside the carriage door. At first I moved to the far side of the carriage and away from the door, but then I moved closer as I tried to make sense out of the yelling and noise I could hear outside. It did not work—there were too many voices yelling, combined with the sound of panicked horses and swords. My teeth were practically puncturing my lip, and I did not know what I should do.
Unfortunately, my next steps were not of my own choosing.
The sounds diminished slightly, and muffled cries and moaning could be heard. More voices, and then the carriage door was wrenched open. I let out an instinctive