Chapter 10

They found the bodies on the fourth day.

A driver and a footman, or what was left of them, lay beside the coach, which had fallen onto its side, the axle broken. It was a glorious rig, intricately carved and decorated, with plush velvet seats and cushions. It looked like wolves had torn out the victims’ throats, though Colin mused out loud that it was odd for wolves to leave so much meat behind.

“Wolves didn’t do this,” Nico said quietly, his stomach roiling.

Branson, after being sick all over himself, trudged into the woods, insisting he couldn’t possibly look at the sight anymore.

They were all weak, hungry, and freezing their bollocks off, but Colin and Nico knew they couldn’t leave the bodies like this. Besides, if there was a driver and a footman, there was at least one passenger, and they might still be alive.

They almost gave up looking when Colin called to Nico from behind a large tree. “I found him!”

Nico ran to join him, hoping for the best, but his spirits sank immediately when he got to the tree. For the past two mornings they had woken to a coating of frost on the forest floor, and it appeared the young man had died from a combination of shock and exposure. He was frozen stiff, his ice-blue eyes staring at nothing, his pale eyelashes and white-blond hair laced with frost. He was dressed in fine clothing befitting royalty but not nearly warm enough for the conditions. Probably he had fled the coach while his servants were attacked. Colin made a halfhearted attempt to close the eyelids, but they were too stiff to move.

“Poor fellow,” Colin said. “What do you suppose they were doing out here? That coach is sturdy, but awfully fine for a long journey. And judging by the crest on the front of it, not from anywhere near here.”

Nico could only shake his head. It was like something out of a fairy tale, a frozen prince in the woods, perhaps on his way to meet a princess.

An idea struck him, but it was so ludicrous he didn’t voice it.

“What is it?” Colin asked. He knew all of Nico’s expressions by now, including his quizzical furrowed brow.

“It’s silly. But do you suppose they could have been heading to Eldridge Hall?”

Colin stomped his feet to keep them from going numb. “We are only a day or so away. I suppose it’s possible. But that means—”

“Someone really is alive at the castle.”

They stood in silence for a moment, shivering.

“What do we do?” Colin finally asked.

Nico blinked. He hadn’t expected Colin to defer to him. After all, they were equals now, and Colin was far more resourceful than Nico. “If there are survivors, we need to tell them what happened to the prince. They must have been expecting him.”

“All right. But what about Crane?”

They exchanged a glance that said what neither had spoken of in the days since Arnaud came to the woodshed. Crane’s interest in survivors—particularly in healthy survivors—was not altruistic. It was beginning to make sense now that everyone Crane employed was an immune. Clearly, Arnaud could smell the difference. And whatever Arnaud was, Nico was certain that Crane had recognized it. That Crane was it.

Nico blanched at the thought of the two dead men near the coach. Could Crane have done something so horrible to a gentle young woman like Elisabeth? He thought of the few other guests they had entertained, how they had spent a few days at the manor and then resumed their journeys. Only he was sure now that they hadn’t. Perhaps they were buried on Crane’s own lands. Maybe Nico and Colin had buried some of those bodies themselves, not even recognizing them.

He remembered how Crane had touched his wrist when he found him that day in the woods, and suddenly he knew that he hadn’t been checking his pulse.

“We can’t lead those people to their deaths,” Nico said finally. “We have to warn them.”

“Warn them what?” Branson had managed to clean himself up a bit, though there were bits of frozen vomit clinging to his coat.

“Nothing,” Nico said quickly. Either Branson was too absorbed in his own misery to put two and two together, or he didn’t care what Arnaud and Crane were. Branson wanted Crane Manor, and once he was in charge, there was little reason to believe he’d do anything to protect the rest of the staff. And while Branson may not be capable of murder, Nico didn’t trust him not to sacrifice hordes of innocents if it meant getting what he wanted. For someone like Branson, the end always justified the means, just so long as he came out on top. “We should bury these men and continue on our journey.”

Branson sneered. “The ground is frozen solid and we haven’t got any shovels.”

“Just the same, we can’t leave them like this.” Nico moved toward the dead prince’s head and placed his hands under his arms. “You get the feet,” he said to Colin. The corpse was so stiff it remained curled in on itself as they carried it back to the coach. They laid it down next to the other two bodies.

“Now what?” Branson said as if he’d done anything useful up to this point.

“Look.” Colin pointed to a large wooden chest still strapped to the back of the coach. “I reckon we could fit three bodies in there, if we’re willing to get creative.”

Branson was starting to go green again. “Go see if you can find the horses,” Nico ordered. “They could still be nearby.”

Relieved to be off corpse duty, Branson hurried into the trees while Colin took out his knife and began to saw at the ropes holding the chest to the back of the carriage. It fell to the ground with a heavy thud. Nico found a large rock and banged it a few times against the lock, which was brittle with cold and broke on the third blow.

Inside the trunk were treasures that would have dazzled two young men under ordinary circumstances: jewels, gold, fine gowns and embroidered jackets, soft white breeches and polished leather boots. But they were after two things: winter clothing and food. Of the latter they found nothing. Whatever food they’d been carrying must have been taken, or else they’d run out. But they did find heavy fur cloaks, one of fine white ermine and another of black sable. They threw them on, relishing the warmth immediately.

Colin said a quick prayer to the dead prince as they turned out the rest of the contents of the chest. Just as they were hoisting in the prince’s body, Branson returned from the woods leading a black horse.

“I’ll be damned,” Colin said. “You finally did something useful for a change, Branson.”

He glared and turned to Nico. “I found him in the trees. No sign of the other.”

“One is better than nothing,” Nico said. “Thank you.”

Branson stared at the pile of gold and jewels on the ground, then glanced back at Nico. “Where’s my cloak?”

“I’m afraid there were only two.”

“But fear not,” Colin said. “We saved the best for you.” He threw a heavy velvet robe at Branson, hitting him squarely in the chest. The horse started, but Branson managed to keep a hold of the reins.

He glanced at the rumpled green velvet, scowling. “This is a lady’s robe.”

“It’s better than nothing,” Nico said.

“Easy for you to say.”

Nico glanced down at the ermine cloak. It was fit for a king, not someone like him. But he was warmer than he’d been in days, and he’d be damned if he was giving it up.

“You can have mine,” Colin said. “If you can get the footman and the driver into the trunk without vomiting.”

Nico stifled a laugh. Branson, to his credit, tied the horse to a nearby branch and laid the lady’s robe over its flanks. “Very well,” he said, rolling up his sleeves. He approached the mangled corpse of the footman. His head had been nearly torn off and several vertebrae gleamed white amid the crimson. Branson hadn’t even reached his foot when he turned to the side and retched, spitting up a bit of yellow bile.

“It was a noble effort,” Colin said. “Better luck next time.”

Branson wiped his hand on the back of his sleeve. “One of these days everything is going to go back to normal, and you’ll be nothing but a peasant. And I’ll be Crane’s legal heir. I’ll find a fine young lady to marry, after I’ve had my way with Abby, of course.”

Nico started to argue, but Colin shook his head. “The only thing that distinguishes a gentleman and a peasant these days is our conduct. Abby has seen enough of yours to make her own decisions.”

Colin returned to his work, but Nico saw the way Branson glared at his back. He recognized well enough the look of a man with little left to lose, and the desperation of someone willing to do whatever it took to keep it.

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