I was wondering if I could drag the revenant out of wherever it was hiding and use its power to immolate myself like the saints of old when the knight said “lady” again, and I realized he was holding out his water skin. I had my own, courtesy of Leander, but I had forgotten to use it. My throat suddenly felt so parched that I didn’t hesitate. I took the skin from his hand and swallowed the warm water in thirsty gulps, briefly forgetting about the crowd.
“I’m Captain Enguerrand,” the man said gently. “Lady, this isn’t the first time you’ve saved my men. I heard what you did for the soldiers in Naimes.”
I wiped my mouth on my sleeve. “They survived?”
“All but four. And today, before you appeared, we had nearly lost hope—”
He ceased talking abruptly, his gaze fixed on my sleeve. My mouth had left a smear of blood on the fabric.
“It’s nothing,” I croaked, handing back the skin. “I had a nosebleed.”
The movement shifted my cloak. The light slanted beneath my hood, and Captain Enguerrand’s eyes widened in surprise. “You’re young,” he said, sitting back. “You can’t be any older than my daughters.”
Just then, a commotion came from the direction of the river. The giant drawbridge was being lowered over the Sevre. Riders had gathered on the other side to cross it: knights, their armor blinding in the sun, and a handful of robed clerics. They were so far away that they looked like toys.
As the bridge touched the bank and the procession stepped onto it, a single figure separated from the rest to ride forward, cantering toward us across the valley. I didn’t recognize him until he drew the horse up short a distance away, the sun bright on his golden hair.
“That girl has stolen the relic of Saint Eugenia,” he called in a clear, carrying voice. “She is in danger of being possessed. Seize her, by the order of Her Holiness the Divine.”
NINE
The silence that fell was so profound I could hear the distant flapping of the pennants over Bonsaint. Everyone seemed to be holding their breath.
“Revenant,” I muttered, too quietly for Captain Enguerrand to hear. It didn’t reply.
The soldiers traded glances. They looked battered and filthy compared to the polished splendor of the knights on the bridge. Behind them, a discontented murmur ran through the crowd. I stole a wary look at Enguerrand under my hood, only to find him watching me with a complicated expression—resignation, unhappiness, determination. He looked like he was steeling himself to make a decision that he knew he was going to regret.
“Sir,” pleaded one of the soldiers.
Enguerrand sighed. He turned to his men and nodded.
Everything seemed to happen at once. The soldiers moved. I tensed. At the same time, the old woman collapsed, wailing. One soldier immediately swerved to help her, tripping a second, who was making a halfhearted grab for my stirrup that already seemed calculated to miss. The cry spooked Enguerrand’s horse, which jostled sideways into its neighbor. Except I was close enough to see that it hadn’t really spooked; Enguerrand had jabbed his heel into its side.
The results were dramatic. Suddenly there were horses rearing and whinnying. The baby turned red as a beet and started howling. The little girl who had identified me as Artemisia of Naimes took one delighted look at the mayhem, clenched her fists at her sides, and exuberantly began to scream.
A young soldier approached me in the chaos, ducking to avoid a rotten turnip flying through the air. Fervently, he signed himself. “Lady, run,” he said, and slapped Priestbane across the flank.
Priestbane lunged into motion. Dazed, I caught his reins and laid a hand on his shoulder in silent apology. Cantering heavily, each stride accompanied by a labored, snorting breath, he carried me away. Civilians and soldiers alike moved out of my path, pausing to sign themselves as I passed. Some reached out to brush their fingers across my shoes or Priestbane’s side, like pilgrims touching a saint’s effigy for its blessing.
I didn’t see the point in trying to escape. Priestbane was spent; he wouldn’t be able to outrun our pursuers this time. But then I heard a raucous cry of “Crumbs!” and glanced over my shoulder. Trouble had returned, diving at the crowd with a vengeance. I saw in disbelief that the riot had spread across the entire encampment, engulfing the procession as it tried to exit the bridge. The caparisoned horses balked, too hemmed in to give chase. People had even closed in around Leander, miring him in a sea of bodies.
I turned back around, leaning over Priestbane’s withers. More faces flashed past. Outstretched hands surrounded me; shouts battered my ears. And then suddenly I burst free from the claustrophobic noise and stink and press of the crowd, open ground stretching away around me like a flung-out tapestry.
On one side the battlefield unfolded, the once-green valley reduced to a brown wasteland by the revenant’s power. On the other, the river glared like a sheet of hammered steel, winding its path toward the forest. Ahead lay the shadows of the trees.
As the crowd’s noise receded and the hills drew nearer, juddering up and down with each stride, it was difficult not to feel as though I were running in the wrong direction. What I’d done today wouldn’t last—those people still needed my help. I needed to get inside Bonsaint. I had to find a way, even with all the Clerisy’s forces in Roischal bent on my capture.
“Revenant, I need you.”
Silence.
Unexpectedly, its rejection stung. Even though I didn’t trust it, I had gotten used to relying on its advice. For a brief, horrible instant I had no idea what to do.
I shook off my uncertainty. I would get to the woods. Then I would figure out what to do next, with or without its help. I didn’t have a choice; I couldn’t ride Priestbane like this for much longer without hurting him.
The hills loomed above me. The shadows of the branches stretched over my cloak, breathing forth the forest’s damp, cool air. Priestbane’s hoofbeats muffled to a soft drumming on the leaves.
And then a shout rang out behind me.
I risked a look, already knowing what I would see. Leander. He’d escaped the crowd, galloping after me. My glance left me with a fleeting impression of green eyes blazing against a pale face. Captain Enguerrand thundered a few paces behind, his own stallion flagging, its black coat flecked with foamy saliva.
Leander’s mount was fresh, rapidly closing the distance between us. As I scrambled for an idea, I heard a thunk, and with a sickening weightless lurch found myself flung from the saddle. Priestbane’s hoof must have struck a root, I thought, even as the world turned upside down. I saw a flash of sky, and then I hit the ground.
The impact slammed the breath from my lungs. Unable to halt my momentum, I tumbled end over end down a hill, lashed by undergrowth, dead leaves choking me, tangling in my hair, stuffing their prickling edges into my sleeves and collar and stockings.
At last I slid to a partial stop at the bottom of an incline, still gradually slipping down in a stupor. Distantly, I heard shouting. Blood roared in my ears. I flung out an arm to steady myself, and my hand met empty air.
I blinked away dirt and realized the roaring wasn’t my blood after all. I’d slid to a halt at the edge of an embankment that abruptly cut off in a steep vertical plunge, the roots of the trees anchored along its edge dangling in midair over the roaring span of the Sevre. The river’s current raged, throwing up spray against sharp rocks that studded the frothing water like teeth.