Another pair of men in green met them and led them around a village whose cocks were crowing and where early morning fires filled the air with the homey smells of cooking and smoke—Freeford, she thought.

“Quiet!” Nell hissed behind her, and the whole column passed the town like ghosts. A shepherd coming out of the town with a small flock of goats was grabbed at sword’s point and his goats were left bleating behind them.

They came to more open country at the foot of the great ridge and suddenly they were trotting—and then cantering. Blanche was not confident at this speed, and she couldn’t do anything but keep her seat.

“Relax,” the Queen said at her side. “Let your hips go with the animal. It’s lovely. Stop making the horse do quite so much work.”

“I’m sorry, your grace!” Blanche said.

“Ah, my dear, I never knew what a treasure you were until this adventure. He calls you ‘Lady Blanche’ and he has the right of it! You’re a treasure. But you must learn to ride better.” The Queen laughed.

Her laugh seemed to lift the spirits of the whole column.

A league on, and they passed a pair of farm gates and the column slowed to a walk again.

Bad Tom raised his voice. “Halt!” he roared. “Change horses!”

Nell put a fresh horse’s reins into Blanche’s hand. “That means you have five minutes to rest,” she said.

Blanche dismounted, and her legs almost folded under her. Instead of helping the Queen, the Queen helped her.

Amicia rubbed her hips like a much older woman.

The Red Knight reappeared and handed around his silver cup full of wine. “Ladies, your pardon,” he said. “We’re racing time.”

“We’re not going north,” the Queen snapped.

“No, your grace,” he admitted.

“I’m not likely to tell anyone,” she said. “Come, whose treason do you fear—Sister Amicia? Lady Blanche?”

He smiled. “If some of my men can reach a certain point—in time. If we can get there, too—” He shrugged. “Well there may be a fight.” He bowed. “Some of my household knights will take you north on the road, to Lorica and safety. I’m sending Sukey and all the baggage.”

“Nonsense,” the Queen said. She handed her baby to Amicia. “If there’s a battle, I want to see it.”

Again, Blanche thought this sounded far more like her Queen.

“Your grace—” Ser Gabriel began.

“Spare me the poor weak woman speech,” Desiderata snapped back.

The Red Knight’s face clouded. “If you are captured, your grace, you are a dead woman. And your cause is dead. And so is your son.”

“I think I know my plight well enough, ser knight.” Desiderata’s smile was cool.

Her son gave a great cry.

She clutched him to her again. “I know the risk. But if you lose—”