The Cutthroat Prince seemed to read his mind and laughed, shaking his head. “Pity the redhead wasn’t with you. I had ideas of how to make him pay for our last encounter. Shame. But there will still be chances to get to him, like we did the guards.”
“What?” Will asked, jerked from his thoughts. “The guards?” he thought of the empty courtyard, the silence in the castle. “What did you do to the guards?”
“I didn’t do anything. I just saw to it that they wouldn’t do anything either.” The Cutthroat Prince shrugged. “Such as wasting their breath guarding.”
Draccart let out a cruel chuckle, reaching down to grab Eldin by the back of her tunic. “Drop your dagger and come on.”
“Yes.” The Cutthroat Prince nodded. “You’re right. We’ve wasted enough time. Will–you ride by me. That’s an order.”
Will waited until Eldin had half lifted herself, half been drug up, onto the horse in front of Draccart before he moved Admere to The Cutthroat Prince’s side. The faintest gleam of silver in Draccart’s hand had him on edge. It seemed that the bigger teenager was more than willing to carry out the execution of an unarmed squire.
“We lead,” The Cutthroat Prince purred to Will. “You’ll get used to it. It’s how royals ride–at the front of the group.”
Will didn’t answer, only tightening his legs on Admere’s side so the small horse pranced forward several steps, arching his neck. For the thousandth time, he wished he had Visra. The warhorse was as good as having one of the knights fighting with them. But he didn’t. All he had was this small hunt horse who kept glancing around them in the dark and, on a few occasions, snaking his head to the side to snap at The Cutthroat Prince’s dark warhorse.
“Keep that beast on its leash,” The Cutthroat Prince ordered the second time Admere’s teeth clicked together, a breath away from his own mount. “Or we’ll go ahead and dispose of the worthless pony here.”
Time was acting most strangely. Each step seemed to take them a mile away from Alamore, away from help, but the night was clinging to them, the day refusing to inch nearer. Will guessed they had been riding for around thirty minutes, and he had glanced over his shoulder to see Eldin and Draccart about fifty times by now. It was almost a nervous twitch.
But she seemed fine, her face pale in the darkness, washed of color by the fear, yet unharmed. Draccart’s knife was gripped in front of him, ready to swipe forward into her chest. Will turned away again, disgusted.
“You know, if you let her go, I’ll come quietly,” he said, breaking his silence at last and turning to The Cutthroat Prince.
The Cutthroat Prince snorted. “And I imagine that if I wish really hard, I might sprout wings and turn into a bird? Is that the game we’re playing?”
“She doesn’t need to come.”
“She’s my guarantee that you will come,” snapped the hooded boy. “I’ve had enough of your games. If it wasn’t for Marl returning as soon as he will, I wouldn’t bother. But I made a wager.”
“A wager?” Will demanded, gaping at The Cutthroat Prince. “You’re doing this all because of some stupid bet?”
“It’s benefitting you and me both, so I’m not certain why you won’t just agree to go to Kelkor and be heir. Seriously, you’re acting as though being a Prince and serving under Marl will be torture.”
“You mean serving as a pawn for Marl and Tollien,” Will snarled. He could feel his temper mounting. If not for Eldin behind him, he was certain he would have punched The Cutthroat Prince straight in his stupid face by now.
“I mean doing what your blood dictates.” The Cutthroat Prince paused, turning his face toward Will. It was impossible to make out the features in the shadow of his hood, but Will could feel the gaze raking his face. “I can’t imagine someone of your status settling for just a knight. It’s remarkable that Revlan has eaten that lie as well as he has.”
“It’s not a lie,” Will had to grit his teeth to keep from shouting. “I want to be a knight.”
The distant shriek of an owl made Admere dart forward several steps, head jerking upwards. Several of the other horses spooked around them, and a flurry of low oaths rose up in the darkness.
“Keep those beasts under control. If one of you gets thrown, I’m leaving you here,” The Cutthroat Prince barked. “We don’t have time for this kind of-”
Draccart’s horse jerked forward, and he swore loudly, scrambling to grab his reins better. Eldin let out a terrified squeak and moved to tighten her grip on the front of the saddle.
“Draccart!”
“It’s this stupid animal,” Draccart snarled, shifting his grip on the dagger to tighten his reins. “If he would just-”
“Don’t you dare try anything, girl,” The Cutthroat Prince whirled round, drawing his sword and Will spun to see Eldin had one hand reaching back, toward Draccart’s sword. “If you touch that blade, I’ll kill you. Draccart, hold your prisoner. I shouldn’t think a horse and a girl too much for you. It’s an embarrassment.”
Snarling under his breath, Draccart jerked his horse’s reins and grabbed Eldin by the back of her tunic. He dug his spurs into the side of his horse and the animal lunged forward with a grunt of pain, gasping and snorting, the white ring around his eyes shining in the night.
A second owl scream made Will turn his head again, stiffening. Something felt off. He could sense rather than see movement in the trees. If this was Niet and Rowan trying some mad scheme to rescue him and Eldin then he would murder them both.
The movement settled, the forest falling silent around them. The Cutthroat Prince snorted derisively. “You are all jumpy. Come on, we’ve got miles to cover and-”
He didn’t get to finish his sentence. Something flew through the dark, missing him by inches, and collided instead with the side of Draccart’s horse. The animal screamed in pain and surprise, rearing up on its hind legs. Will and The Cutthroat Prince shouted in unison, both lunging forward to grab at the reins which had whipped out of Draccart’s hands. In the chaos of others shouting, the horse striking out, movement in the shadows, Will saw the gleam of the dagger in Draccart’s hand fly through the air. Eldin had seen it too. His next shout was drowned by the sickening crash of Draccart falling to the earth. For one wild moment, Will’s heart leapt, certain they could break free and gallop.
Then the horse was rearing again, higher now, and Eldin was clutching a handful of mane, swearing in Kelkorian. One of the other riders sprang from his saddle, running to grab the flying reins of Draccart’s mount.
“Get that animal under control!” The Cutthroat Prince howled. “Get it under control!”
Another rider moved in their midst. Will’s heart froze in his chest at the sight of the small black horse, the white star on the animal’s brow. No one else had noticed, they were too busy with Draccart’s horse and trying to pull Eldin from the saddle, despite her kicks.
Will forgot about the rider as Draccart sprang to his feet, grabbing Eldin by one arm. She brought the other hand across, smacking him in the face. With a roar of fury, he pulled her from the horse, throwing her to the forest floor. A sickening crack rang through the night, the unmistakable sound of breaking bone.
“Eldin!” Will dug both heels into Admere’s sides but another of the Cutthroats was grabbing Admere’s reins. The small horse jerked sideways, trying to bite the stranger, but they couldn’t get past him to where Draccart was standing over Eldin.
“I think they ought to teach manners to ladies,” Draccart said, panting. His hood had fallen over his face and he jerked it aside, leering down at her. Will saw a dark string of blood rising at the corner of Draccart’s mouth. Eldin, on the ground, was clutching her arm and gasping.
“Touch her and I’ll murder you!” Will snarled. He made to swing from Admere’s back only to find a blade pressed against his chest from one of the riders. He didn’t bother turning to see who. All he could do was focus his eyes on Draccart. He hated him far more than he hated The Cutthroat Prince in that moment.
For the first time in his life, he wanted a sword in order to kill.
“Go ahead and teach them both a lesson.” Will turned his head to see The Cutthroat Prince standing behind him, holding the reins of his horse. T laughter in The Cutthroat Prince’s voice only fueled his fury.
“Let her go,” Will ordered.
“Calm down there, heir,” Draccart chuckled darkly.
Will’s attention was jerked back to Eldin and her captor. Draccart was standing over her, his fingers caressing the sword at his side as he watched the girl on the forest floor, cradling her arm and gasping for breath. Will saw the color draining from Eldin’s face. She’d broken it, he was certain.
“Let her go,” Will snarled again, this time directing his words at Draccart.
Around him, he heard the faint laughter of riders, the whisper of a blade being drawn by one of them. He didn’t care. Suddenly it seemed worth a knife in his flesh to attack Draccart.
“Settle down there,” Draccart shook his head.
“I swear, if you hurt her,” Will said, fighting to keep his voice even. “If you kill her-”
“I’m not going to kill your girlfriend, just teach her how to respect her betters.” He raised a hand to strike, and Will bared his teeth in a snarl, the blade at his chest pressing closer, ready to slice through his heart if he moved.
“I don’t recommend that.”
Will, Draccart, Eldin, and all the Cutthroats turned in unison. Standing on the ground, a dagger pressed to The Cutthroat Prince’s neck, the shadow of a man tilted his head. “Anything you do to Eldin, I promise you, your Prince here will feel tenfold,” rasped the Ranger of Kings.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
No one moved. Every eye was fixed on the Ranger. Will’s heart slammed in his chest and relief washed over him. The Ranger had come for them. They were safe. So long as the Ranger was with them, they’d get out of this.
His relief faltered as he noticed the Ranger sway slightly, one knee threatening to buckle. It seemed he was still weak, too weak. Before Will could think of anything to do or say, the Ranger was speaking.
“Firstly.” The Ranger turned his head, nodding to the man holding Will at sword point. “Stow that blade. We’ll find out if The Cutthroat Prince bleeds red like the rest of the royals if you don’t.”
The man hesitated but, at a nod from Draccart, obeyed and pulled his reins, backing his horse several paces from Will.
“Well done on your listening skills. Now, let the girl go,” the Ranger said calmly. “Will, help Eldin onto Admere if you don’t mind. By the looks of that arm, it’s broken, so move gently.”
Will swung from Admere’s saddle, rushing toward Eldin on the ground. He had half a mind to turn on Draccart and attack. Resisting, he glowered at the larger boy until he took a step back, allowing Will to crouch at Eldin’s side.
“That was stupid of me,” Eldin moaned, still gripping her arm. She squeezed her eyes shut, inhaling through gritted teeth. “I thought I could stay in the saddle, I threw out my arm and it caught the saddle.”
“Eldin, focus,” Will hissed. He flinched inwardly at his harsh tone. There wasn’t another way to go about it though. He needed to get her to Admere, to get her out of here. He couldn’t imagine it’d be long until the Cutthroats decided to attack regardless of the Ranger’s captive. “Please, come on, Eldin, we have to go.”
She grabbed onto his arm with her left hand, her fingers biting into his muscles. A whimper of pain escaped her tightly pressed lips as she pushed herself to her feet. Will could feel eyes flitting from them to the Ranger, Cutthroats unsure of whether to attack or wait.
“Will, get her on your horse. Now,” the Ranger said, his voice cool and even. Will nodded, not turning to see the Ranger. He could feel Eldin shaking as she slung her unbroken arm over his shoulder for support. The few yards between them and Admere might have been miles. Will’s heart slammed in his chest, expecting someone to rush forward, to try to stop them. But it seemed the Ranger’s prisoner was worth more to them than capturing Will and Eldin. They only waited and watched in silence.
At last, Eldin scrambled onto Admere’s back, gasping in pain when her arm struck the front of the saddle. Will flinched, remembering his own ride with broken ribs and knowing in a moment things would be worse for Eldin. The movement of the horse would promise that.
Once settled onto Admere’s back behind the saddle, Will turned to the Ranger, waiting for instruction.
The Ranger snorted. “Please start riding now, Will. I think it best you squires not stick around at the moment.”
“Don’t you need-”
“I said ride, Will,” the Ranger warned. “Get out of here.”
Will hesitated only a moment before nodding. The Ranger would have a plan and he and Eldin would be a bother and in the way now. She couldn’t fight and if he tried to use Admere as a weapon and she fell…well this would have all been for nothing.
Turning Admere toward the trees, Will urged the horse into a canter, ducking the low branches, unable to believe their luck. The Ranger had done it! He had saved them all again! The thought of his bitter words toward the Ranger, his anger, pressed on the edges of his mind and a taunting voice seemed to whisper in his ear; he saved you to save himself. You’re his way to a crown, that’s the only reason he saved you tonight.
No. He couldn’t think that way. He had to focus on riding, on keeping Eldin upright in the saddle.
“Oi, Will!”
Will started so hard that he jerked Admere in a half turn, almost colliding with the horseman stepping between the trees.
“Rowan! I’m going to murder you!”
“Chill out.” Rowan held up his hands. “You two alright? Did they–hold up, what’s wrong with Eldin? Where’s the Ranger?”
Eldin managed a muffled whimper and Will shook his head. “Her arm’s broken and he was behind us. He’s holding The Cutthroat Prince and told us to get out of there. But I feel like we need to go back to help the Ranger get-”
Before he could finish his thought, Niet was emerging between the trees, gripping the reins of Eldin’s horse, his face contorted. “Eldin’s been hurt?”
“Look, much as I love to chitchat, I’m pretty sure the Ranger said our job was to scatter and cause a diversion,” Rowan cut across. “We should probably do that before they come after you two.”
All of them started as a roar of fury echoed in the forest behind them. “Well, before that, actually,” Rowan finished, somewhat lamely.
“Will, pass Eldin here,” Niet said hurriedly. “She can ride with me; this horse can handle the weight.”
“What about the Ranger?” Will demanded, even as he helped Eldin bridge the distance between the two animals.
“He wanted us to scatter to get them on our tail,” Niet barked. “We have to ride.”
“You and me, Will! Adventuring! Causing chaos! Being brilliant!” Rowan said eager. He punched the air. “Onwards on our quest! Listen to that sweet call of-”
His rant was brought up short by the arrow that flew past them while Eldin was settling into the saddle of her horse in front of Niet. Niet swore in Kelkorian. “RIDE!”
There wasn’t time to debate, to discuss it further. Will dug both heels into Admere’s side and jerked the reins, leading him to the left, off the trail, through the thick branches and trunks. Diving forward through the dark, Will wondered if he might not die by decapitation as trees reached downwards. He had to lean against Admere’s lashing mane, flattening against the feel of twigs snagging on his tunic, scratching along his boots.
Admere thankfully seemed intent on keeping him in the saddle and avoided knocking his knees on any trees–though how the horse could see in the darkness, Will had no idea. All he could make out was the pain of thorns biting through his clothing, the rush of air, the deafening slam of hooves. He couldn’t tell if they were being pursued, if it was only Admere he was hearing or others. And if it was others, knowing if it were the Ranger or one of hi
s friends was equally impossible.
Admere flattened himself out, running with strides of a larger horse, leaping fallen branches and ditches, his breath heaving from his sides. A light caught Will’s eye ahead through the trees and his heart leapt. The distant castle was drawing nearer, he could see windows. Another flash of light. He just barely ducked his face in time to avoid a low branch and vowed not to look up again until he was clear of the forest. It couldn’t be long now, not long…
A hunting horn bellowed in the night and Admere increased his speed, the animal careening through darkness at breakneck speed. Another blast of the horn. Will didn’t understand but couldn’t twist round to see without risking his seat on the horse or–more likely–breaking his head on a rock.
They launched into the valley and fresh air and freedom rushed over his body. Will straightened, pulling Admere back into a canter and twisting round to see the forest behind him. The blood froze in his veins a moment, realizing he was alone. Then, through the darkness, another rider appeared some fifty feet to his right. The whoop that cut through the night told him it was Rowan. Laughing, barely believing their luck, Will reined Admere to a trot at the path to Alamore and patted the horse’s sweaty neck. “You’re not bad, horse, not bad at all.”
“That was brilliant!” Rowan laughed, bringing Naja to a prancing gait at Will’s side. “Brilliant, I tell you! One of them nearly caught me–Naja, walk you moron, stop prancing–nearly got me though and I turned, and he hit straight into a tree!”
“What was the horn about? Where are the others?” Will demanded.
“They were a bit behind me and then cut further to the south. So, they’ll be behind, but Will, best we can do right now is get to the castle and get help and…” Rowan’s voice drifted and Will turned his attention from the forest to his friend. In a faint orange glow, he saw the bewildered horror on his friend’s face.
“What is it?” Will asked tensing.
“We might have escaped the Cutthroats, mate, but I’m pretty sure we’re dead meat now.”
The Cutthroat Prince (William of Alamore Series Book 2) Page 27