The Right Side of History (Schooled In Magic Book 22), Christopher Nuttall [books to read romance TXT] 📗

I let her. Her mother thought I’d take her to court and present her to the queen. But it couldn’t be done.”

Emily glanced at him. “Why not?”

“She wasn’t a maiden,” Prince Hedrick said. He snickered, as if he thought it was the height of humor. “To present a sullied girl to the queen? Unthinkable.”

“Really?” It took all of Emily’s self-control not to lash out. “And what happened to her?”

“I have no idea,” Prince Hedrick said, blandly. “Her father was out of favor at court for some stupid reason. I dare say she was married off to someone desperate enough not to ask awkward questions.”

“Or she’s lying dead, back there,” Emily snapped. She felt a hot flash of hatred. It would be easy, so easy, to turn around and walk away. Or to side with the rebels and help them win the war quickly, before Crown Prince Dater declared himself the new king and started summoning help from his neighbors. “Why did you touch her?”

“She gave herself to me,” Prince Hedrick said. “What does it matter to you?”

Emily found herself stunned by the question. It shouldn’t have surprised her - she’d seen it before - and yet it always did. She’d been raised to believe that every life had value. She’d been raised to think there were limits to how people were treated, that certain things were morally and legally wrong and they’d be punished... she knew, deep inside, that how she’d been treated by her mother and stepfather was wrong, even if she had never been able to get away. But here... Prince Hedrick saw everyone beneath him as nothing more than property. He’d used the poor girl and discarded her...

“Tell me,” Emily snarled. “Do you even remember her name?”

Prince Hedrick snorted, as if she’d said something so stupid it didn’t deserve an answer, and sat back in his seat. Emily turned her attention away from him and concentrated on studying the landscape. They were passing a dozen homes, some of which looked empty and others boarded up. The handful of people they saw looked away, unwilling to meet their eyes. Emily suspected they didn’t know who was going to win, not yet. They probably wanted to keep their heads down and hope for the best. She pitied them. The rebels had a cause, and a good one, but a lot of innocent people were going to be killed before a winner truly emerged.

They approached a town, surrounded by heavy barricades. Someone had dragged a handful of carts into the road, then constructed makeshift barricades out of wood, soil and whatever else they could find. Emily couldn’t tell which side held the town, if indeed any side held the town. The locals could be trying to keep out both sides. She couldn’t help noticing, as they rounded the rear, that a handful of buildings had been burned to the ground. A ditch was filled with bodies. She shuddered, trying not to be sick. They’d have killed the aristocrats first, then started paying off old grudges. Anyone unlucky enough to be caught by the mob wouldn’t stand a chance.

Prince Hedrick muttered something as they resumed their drive. Emily couldn’t make out the words. She didn’t want to ask, not after... she shook her head. She’d do everything she could to mediate the situation, to resolve the crisis without unleashing a brutal slaughter, and then she’d walk away. She’d go back to her apprenticeship and not look back.

The first thing the aristocrats need to learn is that all lives have value, she thought, sourly. Everyone values their lives.

The light started to dim as they passed through a crossroads and headed towards Jorlem City, driving through a handful of midsized towns. The population seemed wary - she spotted groups of armed men standing guard - but appeared to let them pass without challenge. Emily wondered, idly, if they respected the safe conduct or if they merely thought the coach was heading straight into a trap. The bridges seemed unguarded, something that puzzled her. She’d seen enough fighting to know that securing the bridges was the easiest way to prevent an enemy from marching an army onto your land. The guardposts on each side of the crossing were abandoned. It was eerie. There was no sign of visible damage.

She kept her eyes open, silently noting dozens of other burned-out buildings. She assumed they’d been looted, before they’d been burned, but it was still odd. The buildings could have been captured and repurposed, surely. She dismissed the thought with an effort as they crossed two more bridges, heading towards the city itself. More people were on the streets, but they looked emaciated. The tension in the air gnawed at her. Even Prince Hedrick seemed diminished. He hadn’t suggested they circumvent the city and head straight to the army camp for hours.

Silent slowed the coach as the city came into view. It was odd, for a city so close to the Craggy Mountains. There were giant city walls, of course, but there were buildings on both sides of the walls. Emily had been told, more than once, that such buildings provided all the cover an attacking force could desire as it approached its target. Jorlem City was hopelessly vulnerable, if someone brought the city under fire. It looked as though the walls were nothing more than a giant white elephant.

She tensed as she saw soldiers milling around the gatehouse. They didn’t look very professional, although they carried rifles and muskets rather than spears and swords. Their uniforms were nothing more than green shirts and dark caps, perhaps an attempt at camouflage. The concept of wearing colors that matched the local surroundings wasn’t new, but it was rare. Kings and city fathers preferred their troops to wear fancier uniforms, even if they made them easier targets. She hadn’t seen the point until Sergeant Miles had pointed out that they wanted their men to showcase their power, in hopes of making sure they didn’t have to use it.

Lady