by Cheree Alsop
We covered more ground than I would have thought possible by the time the sun started to rise. The forest grew thicker the further we rode from the castle; soon, trees were the only thing we could see in any direction. I wished I had grabbed my riding boots; my feet were already sore from attempting to soften the fall of the horse’s hooves with my weight in the stirrups. My legs shook from the stress of holding myself off the horse’s back.
“Loosen up,” a voice said.
I looked over to see Prince Andric riding beside me, his face expressionless.
“I don’t think now is the time to criticize my flaws,” I replied crossly.
The briefest smile quirked at the corners of his mouth, then vanished. “No, I mean you ride too stiff. That might work for your grassland horses, but for these you need to loosen up and grip with your knees instead of putting your weight on your feet. You’ll be a lot less sore that way.”
I tried to come up with a cutting reply about how it was impolite to give advice to someone you just kidnapped when Kenyen spoke.
“So what’s to keep us from riding off with your horses back to the palace?” the Prince of Tyn asked.
“Yeah,” his twin put in, “You couldn’t catch all of us.”
“Try it if you’d like,” Andric challenged, “But you won’t get anywhere.” He and one of the guards riding toward the front of the column exchanged a look. “The horses listen to Drade, and only to Drade.”
Kenyen frowned. “Well,” he finally said, “Then what’s to keep us from jumping down and running away? It wouldn’t take long to lose ourselves in the trees.”
As if on cue, a shadow ghosted through the forest next to me; there were two more close behind. I glanced over my shoulder to see another two on our other side.
“Wolves,” Landis said in a hushed voice. He threw a worried look at Tisha.
Andric gave a grim smile. “You wouldn’t get far.” He urged his horse forward and rode to the front of the column.
“Animal magic,” Danyen said in a low voice to his brother. “Father was right. They’re demons, all of them.”
“My mother told me that they bewitch the animals into listening to them, that they make them do cruel and horrible things,” Tisha said.
I glanced back and realized she was talking to me. We rode near the end of the column, with four soldiers trailing behind. The one who brought up the rear attempted to mask our passing the best that he could, but it was nearly impossible to cover the tracks of two dozen horses. The guard just behind Tisha met my eyes and glanced away. A shiver ran down my spine.
“Maybe. . . maybe it’s not like that, we don’t know,” I guessed in an attempt to appease them both.
“All I know is that Mother won’t be happy with me letting myself get kidnapped. She’ll be furious when she sees I’m gone.” Tisha’s eyes glistened with tears.
“We’ll be alright,” I tried to reassure her despite the tightness in my own chest. “I don’t think they mean to harm us.”
“Faster,” Andric commanded from the front of the column. His was the firm tone of someone used to giving commands that were obeyed without argument.
Our horses sped up without any urging from their riders. Their ears pricked forward, their eyes on Drade as we loped through the forest. I swallowed my pride and tried Andric’s advice, forcing my legs to relax and tightening my knees at the horse’s sides instead. Immediately, my body fell into a gentle swaying rhythm that matched the rise and fall of the horse’s hooves. My legs ached from the released tension. I wouldn’t have held up much longer the way I had been riding. The horse’s steps softened too, as if he realized I was no longer fighting him.
The wolves kept pace easily, loping alongside the column with a quiet grace. One wolf, a huge, dark gray animal, ran beside Andric’s horse. When we stopped, all of the wolves went to the Antoran Prince as though to wait for their next assignment. I wondered if Tisha’s comment that the animals were under some sort of spell was true.
***
We stopped three times the first day to rest and water the horses. Andric’s guards gave us rolls, hard cheese, and dried beef with mint-flavored water to wash it down. The small meal tasted like a feast after the hard ride, though Brynna, Nyssa, and Kaerdra complained and refused to eat. By the end of the day, though, they devoured their portions as quickly as the rest of us.
Four of the guards with pack horses rode ahead and had a camp set out by the time darkness caught us. It was a relief to see tents ready with lined mattresses and plenty of blankets to fight off the night’s chill. The guards served a hot, spiced soup with the same hard rolls to dip in it, along with warm, sweetened pumpkin milk.
We ate in silence, the other Crowns too tired for once to even argue, though they had done their fair share at each of the stops throughout the day. By the time I was finished with my meal, I could barely keep my eyes open. I crawled gratefully into the tent a guard pointed to, and was asleep before my head hit the small pillow.
Chapter 3
I dreamed of Father that night. He would know by then that I was missing, and would ride at the head of his troops bent on reaching us before we made it to the mountains. Throughout the dream, Father yelled, “Stop them before they reach the pass!” and “Kit, don’t go through!” I wanted to go to him, but I couldn’t get my body to respond. I was stuck on my horse while he trotted faithfully along in the column, his eyes forever on Drade’s back.
I awoke to the sound of someone shaking my tent. Dim light filtered through the cloth to announce the sunrise. “Time to go,” a gruff voice said, then his footsteps moved to the next tent.
An argument followed. “I'm not going anywhere, and you can’t make me.”
“We aren’t in a position to negotiate right now, Brynna,” Kenyen replied tiredly.
“My father will be here any moment. You’ll be sorry. All of Eskand will be with him,” she threatened; her voice wavered slightly, betraying the emotions she tried to hold back.
Andric gave a low reply, but I couldn’t make out the words. I poked my head outside my tent in time to see Nyssa and Brynna standing arm in arm, Kenyen and Danyen a few feet away. The rest of us were in various degrees of awake as we struggled out of our tents and watched the guards pack them up quickly and efficiently and load them onto the backs of the horses. Another guard handed out more cups of warm, sweet pumpkin milk. I sipped it and felt my mind wake up as it chased the chill from my aching bones.
With the taste of cinnamon lingering in my mouth, I made my way to the horse I had ridden the night before. He stomped as if impatient to be on our way, and shook his mane when I neared. I held out my hand and let him smell my fingers. His hot breath fogged in the early morning air, reminding me of my own Fray, a black mare Father had raised from a filly just for me. She was sleek and fast, built for speed, the exact opposite of this shaggy, short, impatient animal. He nudged my chest with his nose; I rubbed his forehead and then leaned against his side.
The scent of horse made me miss Father with such an ache that I felt a stabbing pain just below my heart. He would be worried, more than worried, terrified for me. He didn’t know if we were safe or hurt. He always assumed the worst. Mother, his calm counterpoint, was home with Rory and wouldn’t be able to help him.
Rory wouldn’t have gotten himself into this situation, would he? I missed him more than anything, because deep down I didn’t know if he would still be alive when I returned. I knew that was why Father decided to take me to the Winter Festival while Mother stayed home. Rory and I were so close, and it was killing me to see my brother slowly get worse. Rory was my best friend.
A tear slid down my cheek and I wiped it away before anyone could see it.
“Mount up,” Andric ordered. I wondered when he had appeared; he hadn’t been in the small clearing a moment ago. The dark gray wolf waited beside him; the Prince’s hand rested on the wolf’s head as he watched us prepare to leave. I should be afraid of the animal, but I was too tired
to feel fear, only sorrow at the situation I had gotten myself into and the disappointment and hardship it would bring my parents.
I forced my aching muscles to respond and clambered onto my horse’s back, feeling much less agile than I had the night before. I was amazed to think that it was only last night that the Prince of Antor and his guards had forced us to leave the warmth and safety of Eskand castle. The protest of my sore joints felt like we had already done weeks of riding.
“I can’t do this,” Tisha said. I looked back and saw her standing next to her horse with tears in her eyes. Landis was beside her, his hands held out in a helpless gesture.
I glanced ahead and saw that Andric had mounted and was riding toward us. I gritted my teeth and slid off my horse, fighting back a wince when my sore feet hit the ground. “It’s alright, Tisha.” I put an arm around her shoulder. Landis hesitated, then gave me a surprisingly grateful smile and hurried back to his horse.
“It’s not alright, Kit,” she said with a sniff. Then her eyes widened and she looked at me. “I’m sorry I called you that. It’s just that I remember Rory talking about you so often that it’s the name I think of when I see you.”
“It’s fine,” I grinned at her, relieved to feel a bit of humor in the dismal situation. “I prefer Kit anyway. Everyone back home calls me it. Though,” and I felt the dark cloud settle again, “I don’t think anyone will take me seriously with a name like Crown Princess Kit.”
She gave me a reassuring smile and wiped the tears from her cheeks. “It’s alright; at least you sound like an adult. Crown Princess Tisha will always sound like a little girl’s name.” She smoothed her curly blond hair away from her wet cheeks.
I grimaced as I helped her with her stirrup. “Princess Kirit doesn’t sound so grown up. It sounds more like ruler of the vegetables.” That was a sore spot with me, and the reason I preferred Kit. It sounded a lot less like carrot to me. At least I didn’t have orange hair!
Tisha swung her leg over the horse’s back. “Ruler of the vegetables? Now that would be an easy job.” She gave me a small, self-conscious smile. “Thanks, Kit.”
“Anytime,” I replied and turned back to my own horse. He snorted as if to tell me to stop taking my pleasant time. “Why are you so eager to get going?” I asked him when I was on his back. “You’re the one that has to do all the work.” He shook so that the saddle swayed on his back and I had to grab his mane to stay on. “Moody creature,” I mumbled. He nickered in reply.
I looked up and met Andric’s gaze; a gleam of humor showed in his dark eyes. I glowered at him and he turned his horse away. I glanced back at Tisha, and smiled to see her weaving her fingers through her horse’s hair. Landis gave me a nod from where he sat on his horse. Before I could respond, my horse jolted into a trot. I turned back around, reminding myself to move with the animal instead of against it. The tiredness eased from my muscles as my body remembered the rhythm from yesterday.
“How much further is it?” Nyssa asked from up the line. The whiny twist to her voice set my teeth on edge.
“A couple of days,” Trevin replied when Andric didn’t answer. He twisted back in his saddle to look at her. “It depends on the time we’re making. We’re moving at a pretty good clip.”
“Shut up,” Kaerdra replied crossly behind him.
“I hate horses, I hate nature, I hate bugs, I hate the cold,” Brynna ranted, “I hate camping, I hate being dirty, I hate bathroom breaks behind trees.” I wasn’t the only one who chuckled. “I hate tents, I hate snow, and I hate you,” she said to Andric’s back.
He rode on as if he didn’t hear her, his back straight and his body swaying with the cadence of his horse’s hooves. A wolf trotted on either side of him; their long legs ate up the ground as swiftly as the horses’. The other wolves paced the group at a further distance through the trees. They watched the path around us, alert for signs of attack.
I needed to leave a note for Father. He would be extremely worried about me, and the other Crowns’ parents were probably just as worried about them. Though I didn’t know Prince Andric’s plan, I also didn’t think he would harm us. He didn’t seem like that type of person, and he could have done it last night instead of listening to all of the whining through another day. Of course, the wolves that ran on either side of him didn’t boost my confidence at all.
When we stopped, exhausted, for the night, everyone ate dinner in silence and retired to our tents without a word to each other. I was almost asleep before I remembered my vow to leave a note for Father. I felt a pang of guilt at the lack of homesickness I had felt today, but exhaustion blanketed every other emotion. I wasn’t used to this kind of journey, and neither were the others. Even Prince Andric and his Antorans conserved energy by conversing only when necessary and retiring to their shifts the same time we went to our tents.
I grimaced when I thought of Andric, so cold and sure about what he was doing. I didn’t know how he justified kidnapping nine princes and princesses, and what he planned to do with us, but he had no right to push us so far. I worried about Tisha. She looked like she was ready to drop midway through the day. I don’t think she touched much of her dinner before going to her tent. Landis looked as worried as I felt, and turned his frustration on Prince Andric, but Andric didn’t seem bothered by the Prince of Faer’s angry outbursts. He brushed off the rude names and cruel words echoed by most of the other Crowns.
I guess he expected it, which filled me with regret I couldn’t explain. How would Rory have responded in the same situation? The others never mentioned him after our first encounter, except for when Tisha said that he had spoken of me. For some reason, that made me miss him even more. It meant so much to know that he had thought of me even when he had been with the other Crowns.
I swallowed the lump in my throat, stepped into my boots, and climbed out of the tent into the snow that covered the ground. That was another disheartening thing on our trip; the snow was getting deeper and the ground was starting to rise. I knew if we could see through the thick forest of trees, the mountains would be on the not-to-distant horizon. I had overheard Andric’s guards say we would reach the mountain pass tomorrow if we pushed hard enough. I just hoped the others could take that much pushing.
I didn’t know what to use to leave a note. One of the Antorans glanced at me from where he leaned against a tree on the first night watch. When I sat by the fire and stirred the embers with a stick, he turned back to his vigilant scrutiny of the darkness beyond our camp. Small sparks rose as I traced shapes into the gray ash left from our dinner fire. The trees hid any light from view, so the Antorans didn’t worry about the kings of Denbria seeing our campsite.
Another stick poked out of the fire beside the one I had just put in. On impulse, I removed it and smiled when I saw the blackened point. I rose, mentioned in passing that I was going to relieve myself, and disappeared through the trees.
I kept close enough to camp that the guard could see where I was, but had a low bush between us so that he couldn’t see what I was doing. As we neared the mountains, the ground had changed from the soft, loamy, snow scattered earth of the King’s Forest to icy slates of snow-covered rock that made the horses stumble if they weren’t paying attention. I cleared the snow and undergrowth from a patch of rock, then sketched a brief note.
“Father, we're safe. We are being taken to Antor. No one is hurt, Kit.”
I surveyed my work. It was rough, but it would have to do. It didn’t seem like enough, but I was out of room and I couldn’t think of anything else to tell him anyway, since I didn’t know much more myself. I only hoped Father would find it.
When I went back to my tent, the guard merely glanced my way and then back out at the forest again. I slept fitfully that night; images of Father hunting through the snow and underbrush inches from my note but unable to see it kept waking me in frustration. I saw fear on my father’s face. He had no way of knowing we were alright; but when I thought about it, neither did I. What if we di
dn’t make it through this safely? I forced the thought aside and grabbed a last few minutes of sleep before my tent was shaken.
We rose even earlier that morning. Gray hadn’t even touched the horizon before we were rudely accosted from sleep and forced out into the below-freezing temperatures. I felt dazed after the night’s restless dreams, and barely acknowledge it when Prince Andric handed me a thick cloak of soft woven wool. The warm oatmeal and hot pumpkin milk failed to chase away the early morning chill. I shivered as I climbed onto my horse’s back and wrapped the wool cloak over the blue one I already wore.
Kenyen and Danyen muttered a few choice words in Andric’s direction when they mounted up. Tisha didn’t say a word as Landis helped her onto her horse. He shot me a worried look before climbing onto the one behind her. Kaerdra argued, but it was with less energy than normal. In the end, she accepted her brother’s assistance and mounted her horse in a sullen silence.
The ride felt long and as the trees thinned, the thud of my horse’s hooves on the rocks and hard earth jolted me to the core. By noon, the sun had soaked through our cloaks and we were feeling a little more energized. The Tyn twins used their energy to insult Andric, his guards, the snow, and pretty much everything Brynna had mentioned in her last rant. Nyssa and Brynna talked heatedly about what their fathers would do to Andric when they caught him, and Trevin and Kaerdra ran through ways to escape, mostly involving harming Andric and his guards in cruel ways in the process. Because the wolves were our constant companions and the horses truly did seem to listen only to Drade, their plans were mostly just talk, which was why they said them loud enough for everyone to hear.
The wolves kept my attention. Even though it was easy to think that the animals were bewitched, they certainly didn’t act like it. At night, they ran off in pairs for what I assumed was their evening hunt. Even Andric disappeared right after dinner and seldom returned before we were all asleep. I wondered if he was checking our back trail to keep an eye on our pursuit.