The gleaming red chestnut that was watching Visra with ears pinned flat to his broad arched neck, his forelock falling to cover his eyes, was tiny in comparison to his warhorse. Visra flattened his own ears in annoyance but contented himself with biting the empty air in front of him, teeth clicking together.
“Don’t bother yourself with him, Visra,” Will told the horse firmly. “He’s a large pony.”
After that, the chestnut grew bored with Visra’s lack of reaction and turned his attention back to his hay. Will forgot all about him while he groomed and saddled the bay, then hurried to help Rowan with Colin’s red horse, Strider.
Colin sprinted into the barn, winded and red faced when Will was checking Strider’s girth. “I’m sorry, I tried to get here faster, but I was trying to be polite, and Henry had a lot to say.”
“Was it a good chat at least?” Rowan asked, smirking.
“Don’t talk to me right now,” Colin snapped. “Will, did he tell you he’s the one who started Henry on his tirade? Asked him a question then pretended to need to use the bathroom. Next thing I see through the window is him running across the courtyard. Not funny, Rowan. He talked my ear off.”
Will stifled a snort, trying his best to look serious. “Well, did you learn a lot?”
Behind him, he heard Rowan, who was in the process of bridling Naja, choke on his own laughter.
“You’re both awful,” Colin huffed. He glanced at Strider and grinned sheepishly. “But thanks for getting Strider saddled.”
“You’re welcome,” Rowan called.
“Still not forgiving you though,” Colin grumbled, stalking off to get his bridle.
It wasn’t long before the three were leading their horses into the slanting afternoon sunlight. Will lifted himself into the saddle and his own body relaxed. All of the worries brought with the arrival of the Kelkor knight and the Ranger’s warning vanished. This was what he’d needed: the freedom that only horses could bring him. He closed his eyes a moment, smiling.
“Come on now, Will, we haven’t got time for a nap.” Colin’s laughing voice made him straighten, opening his eyes.
“Oh, but we had time for Henry’s lecture on history no one cares about?” Rowan asked slyly.
“Why do I even hang around you?” Colin growled.
Rowan shrugged. “Because I’m brilliant probably, or because you’re hoping to one day be nearly as good at sword fighting as I am.”
Chuckling, Will urged Visra into a trot past his friends and toward the open drawbridge. As soon as the sound of hooves over the timbers echoed around him, he loosened his reins and Visra broke into a canter. Leaning into the horse’s black mane, Will’s heart soared. Air rushed over his face, making his eyes water. The long grasses at the edge of the road were swaying, brilliant emerald in the sun, waves of green that stretched all around him.
Only when he heard Rowan hollering behind him did he rein Visra to a walk again, turning to his friends.
“What?” Will demanded crossly.
“We can’t go on the main road. Rockwood said it goes too far to the east, moron,” Rowan called back. He and Colin were waiting at the edge of the bridge, watching him. “Get the monster back here and stop being stupid.”
“If you bite him, I honestly might get you an apple or something,” Will whispered to Visra. The horse’s ears flicked back to catch the words. With a heavy sigh, Will trotted back toward Rowan and Colin. “Alright, if not the main road, where to then?”
“West, you know, the opposite of east?” Rowan offered. Will freed his foot from his stirrup and kicked Rowan in the calf, making him yelp.
“Knock it off you two,” Colin chastised. “We can go to the river path.”
“River path?” Will raised an eyebrow. “You mean the creek to the south of town? That’d be the main road and that’s still too far east according to Lord Rowan here.”
Colin blinked, bewildered. “I mean the river to the west. Haven’t you been there?”
“No.” Will shook his head. “I didn’t even know it existed.”
Rowan beamed; his prior annoyance already forgotten. “We’ll have to show you then! It’s the best place in the summer and spring. We can swim, have fights in the water, fish. We’ve got to show you!”
Without waiting for either Colin or Will to confirm, Rowan dug his heels into the sides of his horse and charged forward, galloping for the stand of trees that swayed in the lazy afternoon wind.
“Glad we made that decision as a group,” Will said dryly.
“You didn’t expect Rowan to wait on us, did you?” Colin laughed. “Come on, we better go after him or he’ll do something stupid, no doubt.”
“He’ll do that regardless of us being with him,” Will pointed out but he didn’t argue. Instead, he turned Visra and felt the horse’s muscles coil beneath him again. He and Colin surged forward together, the horses’ powerful feet tearing soft earth as they launched after Rowan.
Their horses raced alongside one another, Colin leaning into Strider’s red mane at Will’s left side while Will urged Visra faster. It wasn’t until they reached the edge of the line of trees that they leaned back, ducking the first branches and slowing to a trot. Visra arched his neck, stamping a hoof in irritation at the command to walk.
They had to proceed in single file, Colin ahead of him, as the trees thickened. Will felt twigs snatch at his hair and had to yank his cloak free of brambles several times. “I take it that this path isn’t used much?” he asked through gritted teeth, struggling to again pull his cloak free without tearing it.
“Not of late,” Colin admitted. “With all that happened with Thornten, I don’t think keeping the paths clear was top of mind for anyone. But not much further now and we’ll be in the clearing.”
Sure enough, it was only a few minutes before the trees began to thin and Will could hear the distant rush of water. Standing in his stirrups, he glimpsed Rowan stopped ahead of them, swearing and yanking to pull his cloak off a snarling thorn bush.
“Having fun there?” Will asked innocently.
“The forest liked my fashion statement and tried to steal it,” Rowan complained. He yanked the cloak free with a ripping sound and scowled. “But not today, forest, not today.”
“Glad to see you can best a bush in battle with only minor casualties,” Colin said, smirking.
“I am the master of all the forest.” Rowan stuck out his chest theatrically.
“Alright, tree-master,” Will said, rolling his eyes. “How far to this river?”
“Just ahead,” Colin assured him. “Rowan, keep moving so we can get there today.”
Rowan did so and a moment later they were passing between the last trees and into a clearing. Will caught his breath and stared at the rushing water ahead in the clearing. He had seen what the people in town called a river but compared to this they were creeks. Here the water was broader, far too wide to wade across and, with how the water surged past and broke over the rocks in its path, Will couldn’t imagine anyone attempting to swim it. An old bridge spanned across it, seeming ancient and forgotten, the wood dark with decay and age. Will rode nearer, staring open mouth.
“Pretty great, right?” Rowan asked, swinging from his saddle. “Aw, how I’ve missed this place. The memories: trying to drown Colin, trying to drown Haru, trying to drown…”
“Yeah, I’m not trusting you near water,” Will said decisively, dismounting. He moved to tie Visra to a tree several yards from where Rowan was affixing Naja’s reins.
“Near water? You had to add the near water part?” Colin asked, also sliding from his horse.
“On land he can’t drown me,” Will pointed out. “In water, I’d drown myself. I can’t swim.”
Will was still tying Visra, struggling with his reins, by the time that Colin and Rowan were already at the riverbank, pulling off their boots. He had almost finished the knot when Visra jerked, the reins whipping from Will’s hands painfully. He snatched at them, snarling in pain
and annoyance.
“You nag.” Will pulled on Visra’s reins, trying to turn him again. “I won’t make you get in the water. I’m just trying to tie you up.”
The horse braced against Will’s weight, lifting his head higher to stare into the forest behind them, his muscles rigid. Will followed the horse’s gaze but could see nothing. Still, his hand reached instinctively for the dagger on his belt.
“Will, you going to chicken out or you going to get in?” Rowan called from the water, splashing along the river’s edge. “Promise I won’t try to drown you yet. We’ll teach you to swim first, give you a fighting chance.”
Not answering, Will studied the shadows under the trees, looking for anything that seemed unusual. Visra had alerted him to dangers before, warning him of attacks. This time, however, he couldn’t see anything. Sighing in annoyance, Will shook his head and tugged the reins. “It’s probably a squirrel, Vis. Get over yourself and just stand, won’t you?”
Visra refused to budge. Will gave another heave on the reins, biting back the urge to use some of Rowan’s choice swear words. He could hear his friends splashing through the shallows, laughing about something, and he was stuck fighting with a spooked horse.
With all of his strength, Will pulled again and Visra turned his head just enough that Will was able to loop the reins over a branch. “Aha!” He tied the reins before Visra could pull free again, feeling victorious. “Now, don’t be an idiot,” Will warned, turning to walk toward the river.
He had reached the edge of the bank when the horse snorted and Will turned, bewildered. “What is the matter with…”
The words died in his throat and Will froze, his hand reaching for his dagger.
A figure was stepping through the trees, his grey cloak swaying at his ankles, the lips beneath his hood curled in a smirk. One hand rested on the sword he wore at his side, the elegant bronze hilt twisted and set with a silver-grey stone that shone dully in the forest’s muted light. Will noticed the stranger was shorter than Haru, but not by much, a few inches taller than Colin perhaps.
At his back, Will heard Rowan swear and the sound of both his friends drawing their daggers. Will drew his own, heart slamming in his throat and the figure let out a low laugh, shaking his head.
“If you’re thinking about fighting me with that little knife, you might want to reconsider, William of Alamore.”
CHAPTER FOUR
It was as though someone had punched him in the stomach. The breath had rushed from his lungs and Will stared at the stranger in disbelief, his hand lowering the dagger of its own accord.
“How do you know…” Will stopped himself and clamped his mouth shut, wishing he could snatch his words out of the air and swallow them.
“How do I know who you are?” the stranger asked. Will heard the laughter in his voice. “Or perhaps how did I know where you were? You see, I’ve been looking forward to meeting you for a while now.”
“Well you met him, nice to meet you, goodbye, you can go now,” Rowan snapped from over Will’s shoulder. “Get going now.”
The smile under the hood faltered, the lips pressing thin in annoyance. “You’ll watch your mouth talking to me, or you’ll regret it.”
Anger flared in Will’s chest, white-hot, and he stepped sideways between the stranger and Rowan, lifting his dagger again. “You take a step toward him and I promise you’ll regret it.”
The smirk returned. “Are you seriously going to fight me? With a knife against a sword?”
“He’s not on his own,” Colin snarled. “You’ll have to fight all three of us.”
Will saw the stranger’s fingers slide to grip his sword’s handle tightly. “I don’t recommend you make me fight you. It’s something you’ll regret.”
“We don’t want to fight either,” Will growled. “So how about you go your way, we’ll go ours.”
“I’m afraid I can’t do that either,” the stranger said, laughing coldly. “You see, I’ve wanted to meet you for weeks now, but it’s been difficult. You’re not an easy one to reach.”
“Well, I’ve been busy, training to be a knight and all,” Will said, taking a half step backwards. If he could get nearer to Rowan and Colin, they might stand a chance. Even if the stranger had a sword, there were three of them. The three of them armed with daggers might just be strong enough to overpower him. If they could just keep him long enough for the three of them to be ready to fight back.
“I’m aware of that. More problematic, however, has been the safeguard of your King’s Ranger, so you can imagine my delight in finding out that you’d be here, and your Ranger would be gone.” The stranger tilted his head to one side, the lips pulled from smirk to frown.
“Very nice.” Another step and he glanced to his side. He was standing between Rowan and Colin now. They stood several feet on either side of him, both of them watching the stranger with tense expressions.
“But, you know what I find more interesting are the stories I’ve heard about you.”
“Me?” Will asked, frowning. “What are you on about?”
“The stories of how much trouble you’ve caused King Tollien, the throne, Thornten. How well you’ve squirmed out of trouble. Honestly, it’s that more than anything that makes me interested in you.”
“I’ve been pretty lucky, yeah.” Will shrugged and slid his left foot behind him, the better to launch forward. He glimpsed Colin mirroring his movement, readying himself for the attack. Don’t get hurt, please don’t let them get hurt.
“It’d seem so. That is, at least, what Marl calls it,” the stranger was saying. “He thinks it’s all luck, but he understands the intrigue I have now. He understands how I might find you helpful and that you might have your uses for us now. Tollien on the other hand seems to think you’re like the Ranger–bound to be a thorn in the side until you’re dead. And perhaps he’s right, perhaps you will be a pain, but I think the potential benefit outweighs the risk for the time being. So, what do you say?”
“What do I say to what?” Will demanded.
“Come with me,” the boy said coolly. “Come with me to Thornten and be of use. Stop running from what you are.”
“I’m a squire.” Will raised his voice, but even over his words he could hear the pounding of his heart. “That’s all.”
“Don’t play stupid with me, William,” the stranger scoffed. “You can’t hide from what you are forever, so why not accept it? Why not embrace it? You could do so much, be so much, as an heir.”
“I’ll pass on that, thanks, but I appreciate your offer,” Will snapped.
“Yeah, he’s staying here because we’re somewhat amazing, if you haven’t noticed,” Rowan added. “Your pitch was good, but not great. Work on it and try again later, maybe?”
Will expected the stranger to strike, to attack, but instead he laughed and somehow that cold sound was worse. It made the hair on the back of Will’s neck rise and Rowan swore under his breath, Colin crouched low, eyes narrowing.
“I don’t think you understand fully what I’m saying.” There was a danger in the hooded stranger’s voice that hadn’t been there before. It was icy, shot through with purest loathing. “Either you come with me or you see your friends die.”
“Not sure if Marl taught you how to count while you were being his precious lapdog,” Rowan called and Will squeezed his eyes shut a moment, wishing he could kick his friend to shut him up, “but there’s three of us, mate, and only the one of you. Sword or not, you’re not winning that.”
The stranger paused, watching them a moment before giving a nod. “You’re right. I believe introductions are in order. I am The Cutthroat Prince and these,” he said, raising a hand into the air and closing his fingers over his palm, the smirk rising to his lips once more, “are my Cutthroats.”
For a moment Will thought, he hoped, nothing would happen. But then the shadows at the edge of the trees shifted and his heart sank. Rowan was swearing audibly now, and Colin was sidestepping to stand at
Will’s side, face drawn. Three more cloaked figures appeared, each astride a dark horse, swords swinging from their saddles. Visra screamed a challenge and twisted where he was tied, trying to break free, ears flattened at the horses and their riders.
“You have your friends, I have mine,” The Cutthroat Prince purred, waving a hand behind him to the riders. “Now, we can do this simply or I can make sure you regret fighting. So, Will, which will it be? Risk your friends’ lives or come easily?”
Will hesitated but Colin shook his head, stepping forward. “If you want Will, you’ll have to go through us.”
“Fine,” The Cutthroat Prince hissed. “Have it your way. Draccart, take the smart mouthed one. We’ll use him as a lesson to teach you what happens to those who cross The Cutthroat Prince.”
Will launched himself between Rowan and the rider who was nodding, moving his horse forward. A moment later Colin was at his side, the two of them standing between the rider and Rowan. The Cutthroat–Draccart–gave a low laugh and reached for the sword on his saddle.
“Out of the way or you’ll take his place.”
“Draccart, no,” The Cutthroat Prince snarled. “You’re not to touch William, that’s an order. I don’t care about the other two but not Will.”
“And the only way you’ll get to either of them is through me,” Will called, addressing The Cutthroat Prince even as he glowered at Draccart.
“You’re playing a dangerous game there, William,” The Cutthroat Prince sneered, watching Will closely. “If you don’t stand down, someone’s going to get hurt.”
Will could feel his two friends at his back, ready to fight, ready to risk their lives. Risk their lives because of him… He glanced over his shoulder and could see the steely look in Colin’s glower, the fire in Rowan’s and knew: neither would back down. They would get themselves killed because of him. In that moment, a thousand thoughts rushed through his head–his friends falling, blood staining the ground, Visra pulling on his reins, the horse screaming into the fading evening light, and…
The Cutthroat Prince (William of Alamore Series Book 2) Page 6