Henry had gotten new winter clothes in Munich, too. Nothing fancy for either of them. They looked like a couple of peasants, and she’d teased him about that earlier.
Just as they were negotiating a curvy part of the trail, they were almost run over. In the blinding snow and gusty wind, the oncoming horses reared up as they encountered the coach blocking their way. One horse nearly slid off the mountain. Alana screamed as she watched it trying to regain its footing, until she was smashed against the rocks by another horse and lost her breath for a moment. More horses reared as they were yanked back from charging into the others, but their momentum kept them from stopping immediately.
She panicked when she lost Henry’s hand, but he’d just scurried up the rocks out of the way, and for a better view of the mayhem. Not that he could see much of it, with the snow still coming down so heavily. But she couldn’t see anything at all with one of the horses still pressed against her. She managed to squeeze herself out of that spot and move toward the coach horses where there was still a little room. Poppie followed her and put an arm protectively around her shoulder.
“Say nothing,” he warned her. “Your voice is too telling.”
Due to the sudden stop, the newcomers’ horses crowded the narrow trail. Alana held her breath. Someone or some animal might still be pushed over that dangerous drop.
There were so many horses she couldn’t count them all, and that many men mounted on them, all wearing the same long military coats, black, fur-banded caps, and thick scarves wrapped so high only their eyes were visible. They looked like bandits, she thought, though bandits wouldn’t all dress alike like this. Were they soldiers? Or perhaps even rebels?
Then she noticed that the men were training their rifles on her, Poppie, and their driver. Instinctively, her hands slipped into her coat pockets to grip her pistols there. She couldn’t actually fire them with such thick gloves on. Nor did she dare bring them out. She’d probably be shot instantly.
Some of the men were dismounting and leading their horses back. One moved to the coach, opened its door, and looked inside it. She didn’t see him come around the vehicle, but he suddenly pushed past her from behind. He paused though to grip her chin, but he let go before she could jerk her head away. The man did the same to Henry, who was moving closer to her now.
Then he reported to one of the men up front who had just dismounted, “Two adult males, two children. No one else in the coach.”
More horses moved back the way they’d come. Some space had actually been cleared in front of them, but the man she’d just noticed dismounting seemed to fill a good part of it. He was tall, broad, and had an erect military bearing. She couldn’t distinguish much of his face. With the snow still swirling around them, it was like looking at him through a white veil. All she could see was a bit of light-colored hair with snow clinging to it and shadowed eyes below the fur of his cap. He removed the glove from his right hand and moved his scarf down below his mouth. A strong nose was revealed, and a firm mouth that was set in a serious expression as his eyes narrowed on Poppie.
“If you rebels are recruiting children, I’ll shoot you right now.”
Alana sucked in her breath, but Poppie quickly laughed at the accusation. “We’re not rebels.”
“Then what the hell are you doing up here in winter if you aren’t from the camp rumored to be just over this pass? A rebel camp. It’s too dangerous to be up here for any sane reason.”
“We’re trying to reach our lady’s family before she does. She went ahead with her guards the longer way, through the northeastern pass. She was too impatient to wait for us when the baggage coach lost a wheel. But this wasn’t a good decision on my part. I was told this way was quicker, but I wasn’t warned of the hazardous conditions.”
The soldier said nothing for a moment, a horribly tense moment, then replied with a snort, “There’s always snow up here this time of year. Who is your lady?”
“She’s a Naumann.”
That name produced an immediate scowl. “The only female the Naumanns have left is an old grandmother too old to travel. You lie.”
Oh, God, Poppie would have to choose a name the man recognized. At least five rifles rose up again with that accusation, but Poppie had no choice but to stick to his fabrication and he did so indignantly. “No, my lord, she is not the only one. Our lady is a second cousin who has not lived here for thirty years. This is only the second time I know of that she has returned to Lubinia to visit this branch of her family.”
“So just servants, eh? Even the children?” the leader added in disgust. Yet he immediately barked a command, “Search the baggage for weapons.”
Did that mean he still thought Poppie was lying? Or was the man just being thorough? The soldiers remained tense and didn’t lower their rifles.
Alana would have kept a close eye on the soldier who climbed on top of the coach and opened her trunks and was rifling through them, but Poppie drew her attention again when he said, “My lady doesn’t employ my nephews, but she generously allows them to live with me in her household.”
The leader of these soldiers, whom Henry had been watching in fascination, was close enough to him to chuck the boy’s chin and remark, “You don’t look like your uncle.”
She didn’t think Henry had progressed far enough in his lessons to understand all of that phrase, yet he still mumbled, “Do, too.”
Standing next to Henry, Alana heard him clearly. He’d spoken in English! But, apparently, the leader hadn’t heard him due to the wind because he pushed Henry out of his way and was now standing in front of her.
As he reached for her, she stiffened and raised her chin defiantly so he wouldn’t have to touch her the way he’d touched Henry. She could see more of his face now. He had dazzling blue eyes and his hard mouth actually turned up at a corner in a half grin.
He glanced back at Poppie. “This one should be wearing skirts, no? Too pretty to be a boy.” Guffaws erupted from the soldiers behind him, but he wasn’t done yet. He turned her, and before she realized why, he brought his hand down hard on her arse. She was so shocked, she barely felt him squeeze one cheek. “So small, or shriveled from the cold?”
Poppie yanked her away from him before she reacted instinctively and slapped the man. She had no idea what he’d just insinuated, but he and his men were laughing uproariously about it.
“What the deuce did that lout mean about me being shriveled?” she hissed back at Poppie as he pushed her farther away toward the rocks.
“It was nothing, just a way to put his men at ease.”
That had certainly worked, they were all so bloody amused, while she was outraged. He’d smacked her! She couldn’t believe it!
