The wagons were making good time.
James grabbed on to something, its exact function unknown in the dim wagon interior, as the wheels went in and out of a rut in the road. Speed had been unknown in his time on this world before now. The convoy of refugees had traveled as slow as the slowest beast of burden, luckily not much faster than a tired human could walk. Now, freed from that restraint, the wagon practically flew down the road. The extra two horses added to the teams pulling them, and the decision to spread the load over three wagons, helped. They had passed the head of the column an hour ago, other wagons falling in with them. They would stop soon, camping for the night, before getting an early start in the morning. Until then...
"My butt hurts."
Shanna's complaint did not bring any sympathy from those around them. Everyone else in the wagon, the kids, Ewa, Ola, Anelie, had spent the entire exodus either walking or in wagons like this. That her delicate ass preferred to be on a horse was not their problem.
James kept silent, thus, he figured, elevating him in their eyes.
His gaze went out the back of the wagon. Riders surrounded them, winged and un-winged. Piotr and his men had been joined by fifty Hussars, fanning out on the non-river side of the road. Once they broke away from it, heading cross country to avoid towns and cities, both sides would have to be patrolled. Having a barrier like the river was incredibly comforting. He'd be sorry to part company with the waterway.
He saw Shanna looking at Ola in a way that indicated conversation was in the offing. With Anelie being surprisingly silent, talk had been minimal. Well, it was boring now, with no sleep possible until camp was set up. She leaned forward, one hand holding the wooden support strut behind her.
"Ola... you didn't have to leave your friend behind, you know. He could have come."
Even in the dark, James could see the war on the man's face. Shanna must have seen it, too. She smiled understandingly.
"It's OK. You can talk about it. Where James and I come from, it's accepted. Normal."
"What?" He leaned forward as well, eyes wide. She chuckled.
"Well, somewhat normal. It depends on where you are, naturally, but many are open about it. I had a girlfriend who swung that way." Her face clouded, James wincing. Reminding themselves of friends they'd never see again was not good. Anelie, sitting next to Ola, looked between him and Shanna, confused.
"What are you talking about?"
Ola looked at her for a long moment. He glanced at James, who nodded. With a sigh, he placed his hand on Anelie's knee, meeting her eyes.
"I, my child... love men."
There was a gasp from the two children. James looked at them.
"You are not to spread gossip about this. That goes for anything else you hear. Understood?"
"Yes, Your Grace!" They both responded instantly. Ola seemed to relax at that.
"Thank you, Your Grace."
"Thank you, Ola. There can be no secrets, nothing that can be used to gain influence over you by others. As Shanna said, your preferences in lovers is not an issue with us, so long as the individual can be trusted."
"But!" Anelie swung her head between Ola and the older teens. "You can't love men! That's not allowed!"
"Says who?" James asked, amused.
"God!"
"If God doesn't like it," Shanna said, "he shouldn't have made men who prefer men, and women who prefer women."
"Women..." the teen's eyes widened, dropping quickly into her lap. James focused his attention on Ola.
"I assume those like you are in no way accepted in this world."
"Not by Poles, no," he said, dryly. "Among the Elves, it is said to be the norm for both sexes to be free with each other, but that may just be slanderous rumor. I quite like the idea, though."
"Understandable."
"There was a rumor," Ewa said, breaking her silence, "that King Lawenza was having an affair with the Elven King."
"Right," Ola scoffed. "The King had no interest in men. Trust me."
"You knew him well?" James asked. Shanna shot him a glance, which he ignored.
"I did not venture into the Royal Chambers, but I saw enough of His Grace to know his lust was for the curved sex." He shrugged, smiling. "I can tell these things."
"You heard the rumors, though?"
"I heard MANY rumors. All nonsense, naturally. The King was many things, but he was not fornicating with animals, or Elves."
This time James did let his eyes meet Shanna's. She nodded.
"I think," She said, "there's a book you should read once we're in camp, Ola..."
****
"My God..."
The thirty year old bureaucrat looked up from the small diary, eyes wide, horrified. James nodded.
"Exactly. There's a lot this doesn't tell us, but..."
"It was true! Oh, God, and I had poor Lechoslaw flogged for spreading that rumor! How could His Grace DO this?"
"What exactly was he doing?" Shanna asked. "Who was the woman?"
"I don't know! Does it matter?"
"Of course it matters!" James did not so much slam his palm on the desk where Ola sat as place it forcefully. The man jumped in his seat regardless. "We need to know what happened! Who killed the royal family? Who started the war? Were the two related? It's important, man!"
Ola looked back down at the book, thin body trembling.
"I..." He licked his lips. "I don't know. There were so MANY rumors! You have to understand! If that one was true, what else was? Was he performing magic? Was he betraying his people to the Elves? Was he bewitched?"
"Maybe all three," Shanna mused. She moved to the desk, turning to face Ola as she jumped up and back, sitting on the wooden top. "Who COULD the woman be?"
The man let out a long sigh, flipping back through the pages. His finger traced a couple lines.
"I think... well, rumor says only the Elven Queen, or the Elven Royal Family, can cast spells like this. Travel magically. One reason they didn't just send their army right into the city, they literally can only use it on themselves. So, that narrows it down. The Queen, or a Princess, if there are any."
"Queen would make sense, if she was planning on uniting the Poles and Elves through marriage."
"Impossible!" Ola slammed the book shut, naked hatred on his face. "The Polish would NEVER allow such a union! Never!"
"Now, yes," James said, dryly. "That option is off the table."
"No, even before!" Ola closed his eyes, taking a deep breath. He let it out. "Sorry, Your Grace. It's... it's just, you know. How we are. What we are taught to accept." His eyes opened, humor entering his voice. "You'd think I'd know better."
"We are who we are, Ola." James put his hand on the man's shoulder. "Think back, try and remember anything you may have seen or heard. If you come up with anything, let us know."
"Yes, Your Grace." He stood. "You should get some sleep. It's late."
"Agreed. I'll see you two in the morning." James picked up the diary as Shanna pushed herself off the desk. Her bow was not quite as respectful as Ola's, but that was OK. As they exited, he moved to restore the book to its hiding place.
****
"Are you ready for bed, Your Grace?"
Ewa's voice came as James was removing his shirt, his back to the tent flap. Turning, he smiled.
"Now that you're here, yes."
Letting the flap fall closed behind her, the teen curtsied, little Marik held firmly in one arm. Eyes scanning the tent in the lamp light, she frowned.
"Typical." Moving with determined purpose, she made her way to the bed, placing Marik on its thick blanket. James watched with amusement as she went to the crib on the ground near the foot of the bed, grabbed the headboard and pulled it towards its usual location near the head. Once it was in place, and her nursing chair placed next to it, she picked the baby back up. She kissed his nose, the kid cooing happily. James went over, standing behind her, pressing against her back.
"Good help is hard to find, isn't it?"
"Yes. You'd think they'd know by now."
He laughed. She had so taken over the domestic part of his life, in here at least, they might as well be married. Reaching around, he let Marik grab his fingers.
"Once he has teeth, he's going to have to find another toy."
"Shanna suggested I make him a stuffed toy to play with, like a bear."
"I think he'd like that. I had one."
"You did?" She turned to him, eyes wide. He nodded, taking the opportunity to give her a quick kiss. Then another. He felt himself harden against her, free arm pulling her closer. She helped.
"Yup. A brown bear called 'Teddy'."
"Teddy... why Teddy?" Spinning away from him, she bent, placing Marik in his crib. James admired her form.
"Stuffed bears were called Teddy Bears, after an old leader of our country who, while hunting, saved a bear cub whose mother had died."
"Did he shoot her?"
"You know, I honestly don't remember."
She rose, turning. The love in her eyes, directed mere moments ago at the babe, did not change as they met his. She stepped into his arms.
"What other toys did you have?"
"Hmm... let's see..." James ran his hands down her back, cupping her ass. Her own hands found his bare chest. "I had a stuffed blue dog with a bell in one ear, called Bluebell, a stuffed rabbit called Rabbit..."
"Imaginative," she said, eyes seeming to twinkle. He nodded.
"Oh, yes. Very."
"Why do I get the feeling you'd call our son, 'Son'?"
"I could call him 'Daughter', if you prefer." James kissed her, hands moving to unfasten her dress. Her own hands moved to his belt. Breaking the kiss, Ewa brought her mouth up to his ear.
"Tonight," she whispered, his pants falling to the floor, "you may get a son." Her own dress fell from her body.
"If not," he whispered back, "we'll just have to keep trying until we do..."
****
Shanna still didn't know what to make of Anelie.
The girl idolized her. Still. Shanna had thought spending time with her would disabuse her of that trait, would show her she was nothing special.
But, no.
"Will you be wearing your armor tomorrow, Lady Shanna?"
Shanna looked over at the red haired girl by the fire. She held Shanna's breastplate, with actual indentations for breasts. Shanna frowned.
"Why?"
"I'll polish it for you. It's getting a bit dull. You have to keep your armor well maintained."
"You don't have to do that..."
"I want to. Really. I want you to look your best, be your best." The girl seemed oddly subdued. Maybe being away from the column, away from her family more than she had been, was getting to her. Well, Shanna could relate to that. And, really, the drudgery of maintaining her stuff was a pain, polishing her sword something she already tended to put off more than she should. If the girl wanted too...
"Sure, go for it. Don't go crazy."
"I won't."
Shanna glanced around. They had joined up with other wagons, enough for a protective circle, for which she was grateful. It just felt... well, comforting, regardless of whatever protection the formation actually provided. The drivers and soldiers now with them were strangers, something she had not had to deal with in some time. Their glances were the usual, half distrustful, half lustful, all confused. A female squire polishing her armor would just add to that.
"Lady Shanna."
"Yes, Anelie?" All hope of getting the girl to just use her name had vanished long ago. Shanna picked up a stick, poking into the fire. It was late, but she was not yet tired.
"Lady, um..." The girl kept her eyes on her work, cloth buffing the thin steel. "About Ola."
"What about him?"
"Do you... um..." Shanna looked over at her. For the girl to be speechless, something big must be on her mind. "You said you knew people like him. People that... well..."
"Anelie!" The girl shot her eyes up, startled. Shanna fixed her with a hard look. "This is too public. Understand? This is not how you keep secrets, or earn my trust."
"I'm sorry." Her head dropped, voice a humble whisper. "Forgive me."
"I do. Just be careful."
"Yes, Lady Shanna..."
****
James looked at the buildings up ahead in surprise.
"What the hell is this?"
"Buildings," Shanna said, expression innocent. He scoffed.
"Thank you."
"Anytime."
"Piotr?"
James saw the conflict on the soldier's face, the desire to agree with Shanna warring with his duty to his King. King won out.
"Small village. It should be secure."
Small was right. Six buildings, three on each side of the road. Wooden, two stories each, with thatched roofs. A crossroad ran through the community, running from a small shack and dock on the river off into the far woods. The buildings looked human made, with windows, now shuttered, and wooden doors. A squad of Polish soldiers stood at the crossroad, watching them approach. James reined in his mount before them as the wagons continued past.
"Sergeant. What's the situation?"
If the soldier was unsure who was speaking, the Hussar escort made exact identification moot. He motioned to the buildings.
"Nothing to report. The residents aren't giving us any trouble, and are staying inside."
"Are you letting them out to get their work done, or are they trapped?"
His brow furrowed.
"Don't know, exactly. No one has come out to say anything since I've been here."
James looked at the upper windows. He thought he saw movement in one. Part of him wanted to stop. Talk. See what these people were like. Tell them... tell them that they were just passing through. Meant them no harm.
The other part saw no reason to risk them meaning him harm.
"Your Grace." He turned, the Sergeant's shock at that title ignored. One of the Hussars motioned towards the river. "There's a boat approaching the dock."
So there was. A small boat, with a single mast. Its sail was furled, crewmen at the oars assisting the current as it came closer to the shore. James turned to Piotr.
"Pick two of your men to come with me and Shanna. The rest of you, stay here."
He didn't argue. James was glad for that. Piotr instead turned to the rearguard now passing them.
"I want a half dozen archers up here, covering us. You are not to fire unless you hear two horn blasts."
"Or you hear me scream, 'Oh, God, help!'" Shanna ignored the look Piotr gave her. "Hey, sometimes a safe word should just be, 'Ouch'."
"Let's go," James said. Kicking his heels into his mount, Trigger, he led them down the dirt path towards the dock. There was obviously confusion on the boat, an understandable situation. He thought for a moment it might turn away, avoid the obvious danger. It kept coming, though, prow sliding through the water towards the right side of the dock. Reining in at the foot of the dock, James looked at the crew.
They were frogs.
Sort of. Maybe toads. There was a resemblance to cartoons of walking, talking frogs, the eyes, the webbed fingers. Their skin was a bumpy brown, uneven in coloring, becoming a grey on their chests and under their arms and legs. For clothing, most wore a kilt of rope netting, a few what looked like togas made from the same material.
James put all that aside. These were people. As the boat came to a stop on the side of the dock, webbed hands grabbing the wooden boards, he dismounted.
"Hello."
The frog men looked at each other. One, darker brown than most, with spots verging on red, stepped up on to the dock. He wore a toga of pure white rope.
"Hello, Polack."
"My name's James. If this is your village, I apologize for bothering you."
The stranger cast another glance at his companions, then up at the roadbed. James gave a shrug.
"I AM sorry. We are just passing through, and mean you no harm. A few thousand more will be passing this way in a day or two, then we'll be gone."
The Frog cocked his large head, as if considering. His two yellow and black eyes, mounted on top, blinked. His voice was low
"Why are you talking to me?"
"Because we have one people out to kill us, and I'd rather not anger others if we can avoid it. What is your name?"
Again, the stranger looked at his companions before answering.
"Davi."
"Well, Davi, I will give you a choice. I am going to leave some soldiers here, to wait for the thousands of wagons that are coming." The poor creatures eyes seemed to explode at that news. "If you would like, they will stand aside and let those in those buildings leave, and you can stay somewhere else until we have passed. I think you'll be able to tell when that is. Or, if you give me your word that you will not bother us if we don't bother you, I'll order them to camp up the road a bit and you can go on with your lives until the rest of the caravan gets here. What do you say?"
"If we leave... what of our homes?"
"I will set a guard at every door. No one will enter them. You have my word."
Davi's large head cocked to the side, eyes narrowing.
"The word of a Polack?"
"The word of King James, Son of Frederick."
If the title had any special influence with him, the creature didn't acknowledge it. He did, though, nod.
"We will leave our homes."
"Probably the best option." James mounted his horse again. "Thank you. Once we are settled again, please come visit us. I will repay you for this inconvenience."
"And where would I find you?"
"I don't think you'll be able to miss us."
****
As they made their way back to the road, James tried to ignore the stares of those around him. Once back on the dirt and stone thoroughfare, he gave his orders to the soldiers. They looked... displeased, but the Sergeant saluted and moved them back down the road. James and his party set off after the distant wagons.
They had barely started when Shanna came up beside him.
"OK, what the fuck was that?"
"What?"
"How could you understand him?"
He looked at her, surprised.
"You mean...?"
"Yup. Gibberish."
"Huh." James shrugged. "More of my magical language skills, I guess. If it's universal, it will come in handy during diplomacy, wouldn't you say?"
"It's annoying, that's what it is. What's my magical ability?"
"Don't know. It probably involves banging things with stick, though."