The Fugitive Prince Read online

  The prince threw a glance over his shoulder. A blonde braid wildly flew in the air hitting him in the face. The silver clasp served as a violent flail. Valente looked beyond the unexpected hazard and met Tychan’s gaze. It was acute and focused. He was gaining ground on them.

  Gregor, you picked the slow horses.

  Valente went a shade paler as he turned again to focus on guiding the horse. The prince focused on following the bulking knight ahead of him. Gregor’s horse pulled up on its trot as the knight clung to the horse’s mane to steady himself. Valente reined his horse and his blood turned cold. Gregor had slowed. Valente looked forward in fear and question as torches emerged from the woods in front. A small contingent of mounted bandits marched inwards surrounding the three.

  How did they-?

  “Figured you might try running.”

  Tychan shouted as he closed in behind them. Tychan pulled on his black horse slowing it to a taunting and menacingly slow gallop. Gregor drew his claymore as it sung out its defiance. Cass aimed at Tychan. His shadowed form melded with the dark eluding her focus. The horse gently bucked underneath, her aim veered to the side as she did her best to calm her nerves. Valente drew his sword. A panic rising from deep within him. Tychan brought his dark stead to a trot as he got closer.

  “You thought I wouldn’t figure it out? A prince missing and you want to go North?”

  Tychan shook his head.

  “Please… Gregor, no wonder your brother died. You’re a family of fools.”

  Gregor shouted at the top of his lungs; his face burned redder than his mighty beard.

  “You have no right you cur. You killed him!”

  Tychan smiled at the knight. His pleasure stemmed from Gregor’s anger.

  “He knew what he signed up for. If he was around, perhaps I wouldn’t have to kill you.”

  Tychan drew a crossbow from his back.

  “However, you insulted me by bringing a wanted foster prince. Even with our history, you didn’t bother to mention it. Unfortunately for you, your brother’s favors have run out.”

  Tychan’s gaze turned towards the prince and then the girl who had a bow drawn on him.

  “You, girl, you’re… Simon’s daughter, aren’t you?”

  The name brought a fraction of doubt to Cass’s aim.

  “I once knew your father.”

  Cass breathed out and focused once more on her target.

  “You lie.”

  Tychan’s smile wavered but it still pierced Cass’s mind.

  “He was a deserter,” The graveled voice leaked a drop of warmth, “He wanted to join you know? Become a bandit. Get enough money for his… little hunter.”

  Cass’s blinked as an uncertain tear met her cheek.

  “Shut up.”

  Tychan pulled his crossbow upwards as he armed a bolt.

  “I’ll tell you everything. We turn over the prince. You get a share.”

  Tychan’s gruesome grin returned as Cass’s hand faltered.

  “You’d be one of us… like your father wanted.”

  Gregor shouted profanities and curses at Tychan. Cass looked at Tychan, but her aim had fallen from him. Her mind clouded by Tychan’s words and the fumes of the Deadwood.

  My father.

  The bow itself stared back at her inflicting a heavy guilt.

  His bow.

  Gregor’s shouts echoed as Tychan continued to grin down at the bolt he was cranking back. Valente gravely turned to Cass; his mouth moved yet the words could not reach her.

  I need to know.

  The weight of the bow brought Cass’s arms downward as she closed her eyes. Tychan noticed with a victorious smirk. His bolt and crossbow were almost set.

  “There you go. It’s okay girl. I’ll take it from here. I’ll take care of you like your father intended.”

  “Daddy, I don’t want you to go!”

  “Cassandra. Come, I have something for you.”

  “Why do you have to leave?”

  “If I could stay I would. You and your mother are everything but that’s why I have to go. Lios calls. I need to defend our lands.”

  “But isn’t that why we pay the nobles and knights.”

  “Even kings and nobles need help. Now here take this.”

  “But Dad, this is your bow!”

  “No, it’s yours.”

  “But…”

  “When I’m away I need you to protect yourself and your mother. That bow will help you do it.”

  “I can’t shoot as good as you!”

  “You will in time. Besides, it’s a special bow.”

  “Special?”

  “Yes, my little hunter, they say spidersilk can hold the spirit of its users. I’ll always be with you as long as you have this bow.”

  Cass’s eyes shot open re-adjusting her aim at Tychan’s heart. All uncertainty purged from her stare. Tychan’s smile faded as he angrily tapped the side of his loaded crossbow. A glint of regret crossed his vision.

  “Damn. Thought you might join me.”

  Tychan shook his somber head.

  “A real shame. You were supposed to be dead.”

  As Tychan moved to shoot the crossbow, Cass was more than ready for this as she launched the arrow towards its destiny. The accuracy and speed caught the bandit leader off guard. Tychan moved his hand forward to block the arrow. The missile punctured his hand with a deep thunk. The bandit leader cursed as blood dripped freely from his pierced hand. Tychan clenched his fist shattering the arrow impaled in his palm. His face twisted into an infuriated glare.

  “Kill them all.”

  The mounted bandits trotted to advance. The large circle of them called out and taunted as they move forward. Their weapons and teeth glinted from the light of the torches. Gregor’s head swirled as he moved his blade around him trying to find the best angle. The horse

  anxiously kicked underneath him. Cass fumbled to draw another arrow. The reality of what she had done sent an unfamiliar tremor through her hands. Her chance to learn about her father gone forever. Valente looked at all the faces eager to capture him and kill his friends. The blade in his hand weighed heavier than before. The drum of his heart echoed through his body as he brought the sword to his wrist.

  “You come any closer and I’ll do it.”

  Hesitation spread like wildfire.

  “You can’t get a reward for a dead prince.”

  Tychan cracked into a laugh.

  “Well, you have some courage growing on ya. Did not expect that from a Tharian leech.”

  Tychan wiped the fresh blood and splinters from his hand onto his black leather coat.

  “Sorry to tell you, but we get paid if you’re dead or alive. Capturing you increases the bounty.”

  Valente clasped the cold metal of his sword. His rash attempt proved fruitless. They were surrounded, outnumbered, and outmatched. Tychan pushed the despairing point home.

  “We are rich regardless of what you try to do. Feel free to save me the effort.”

  The murderous intent returned as the circle around them once more constricted. Gregor swung wildly out forcing a few horsemen to rein the horses back for a moment. The blade still hovered over Valente’s flesh. The metal offered a quick end on his own terms. Freedom from the chaos. Freedom from the misfortunes of life. Lios had never been kind. Tharia had always been an unattainable dream. The edge of the blade tickled the surface of the prince’s skin. The sensation yearned for action. Cass trembled in fear against his back. The Tharian crest burned in his pocket. He brought the blade up casting aside its weight. He would go fighting. Tychan grimaced at his hand sighing with audible displeasure.

  “I will miss you, Gregor. You’re one of the last good knights out there. You reminded me: we weren’t all bad.”

  Tychan looked up from his hand and stared into Gregor’s eyes with a rich hatred.

  “I’ll enjoy burning your cabin down.”

  Gregor swung his massive blade sending a bandit from his horse.
The length of his claymore played to his advantage. However, the sheer numbers were still on the bandits’ side. Cass’s hands shook as she aimed another shot towards Tychan. The arrow sailed far over his head. The circle of horses closed further. Horrid smell of the bandits invaded Valente’s nostrils overpowering even the stench of the Deadwood. Valente readied his blade with the knowledge he would use it soon.

  A low and hungry growl cut through the immense tension. Even Gregor’s cautionary swing failed in strength for an instant. A shadow leaped up from the dark roots below, and it tore a bandit from his horse. Tychan’s horse reeled back nearly sending him from his own mount as he drew a vengeful sword. More shadows ran around the edge of the circle of horses. Valente watched a horse disappear from beneath one bandit. Its cry of pain sent a creeping panic through the bandits and its fellow horses. The bandit collapsed to the ground and disappeared. His torch fell to the ground illuminating several black beasts with ravenous eyes.

  Morpus.

  Chaos exploded as the horses and bandits broke off in all directions . The knight took advantage at that moment and cleaved two bandits down from their horses. Their bodies snatched from the air by black monsters. Gregor spurred his horse forward as he sent another two more bandits to their grave; their horses tried to run off but soon succumbed to the dark creatures that brought them down. Gregor yelled from the opening he had created in the chaos. His eyes fierce and focused.

  “This way!”

  Gregor and his horse bolted off into the dark trees to the north. Valente’s horse fought against his reins and the prince’s ebbing control. The dark shadows sent it into an overwrought frenzy. Rearing itself up the horse bucked wildly. Its errant hooves sent a morpus flying onto an unfortunate bandit rider. Cass clutched onto Valente as he tightly clenched the harness. Cass cursed the horse and all of its kind. Valente powerfully wrenched on the reins forcing the horse down. Kicking his heels into the horse’s hide, he drove the stead forward in the direction Gregor had fled. Shouts, growls, screams, and clash of steel smashed against the once silent night. The hefty and hastened gallop brought them at full force away from the pandemonium. The time and disarray faded behind them as they rode into the darkness of the Deadwood.

  -12-

  Heavy galloping of the horse thumped like the panicked hearts of the riders. The gnarled trees threatened to tear them off their horse from the darkness. The black etching of the shadows moved as though it were an ever open maw. Valente did his best to navigate by the meager moonlight that strained to break through the canopy. His eyes eagerly searched for salvation, or at the very least a massive Liosian knight. Cass had slung back her bow and placed her forehead against the prince’s back as she held her hands close to the prince’s chest. She gripped the nape of Valente’s tunic hoping when she let go they would be away from these woods. The fading adrenaline numbed her hatred for horses for the moment. As the buzz of action waned, a small sense of safety return to her. However, the tremor in her hands still lingered. This uncontrollable shake had caused her to miss. Her mind ran in circles as the dark shapes of the forest dashed past her. She lost herself in the blur.

  That was my only chance.

  Valente dangerously swerved to dodge an oncoming tree. Momentum sent Cass into a fearful sprawl as she clutched the prince bringing herself closer to him.

  The rhythmic thud of the horse carried out through the enervating night. The horse’s deep breathing turned to snorts as it and its heart yearned for rest. Valente looked behind himself. The blank gaze of darkness met him hiding any information that may have calmed his nerves. Valente reigned on the horse bringing it to a slow trot.

  Cass remained glued to the prince’s back. The erratic leaps and strides of the horse no longer threatened to throw her off, yet she desperately held to Valente’s chest. Her hands loosened against his deep breaths. The steady beat of his heart drum against her palms. His stouthearted musk drifted into her nose pushing away the invasion of the Deadwood stench. Cass sprung upright a shade of red flashed on her cheeks as she let go of the prince.

  Valente squinted and looked at the surrounding trees hoping they would reveal a friendly Liosian knight. The swirling and unforgiving darkness grew darker.

  “I lost Gregor.”

  Cass pulled back her hood letting her braid freely fall. She instinctively grabbed it attempting to quell her shaking hands. Valente swung himself off the horse and took it by the reins. The horse thankfully snorted letting the prince slowly guide it. Pulling the steed forward he stepped onward in the Deadwood hoping it was the right direction. He looked at Cass. A small tremor ran in her grip as she combed her braid.

  “You rest for now. I’ll keep an eye out.”

  Cass steadied her hands on the horse ready to vault herself off.

  “No. It’s fine I can—”

  Valente turned around and placed his hand on Cass’s. The action stopped her breath and her dismounting. His face was carved with sincerity in the dim moonlight.

  “What you did back there. I appreciate it.”

  Valente turned his grateful blue gaze downwards.

  “I don’t know if I would have done the same thing. I was torn from my family and to have a chance just to know…”

  Valente exhaled and smiled at Cass. His blue eyes grabbed at the moon’s rays and glinted inspiration at the huntress.

  “Thank you. Cassandra. You do your country proud.”

  Valente looked into the dark and pulled the horse behind him.

  “Once I get to Tharia, you’ll get your house and your man butlers and your gold. But beyond that, I’ll do everything in my power to find out what happened to your father. You have my word.”

  Cass’s tremor faded away from the warmth of the prince’s words and his hand. His blue eyes crushed the darkness seemingly forcing it to cower. Cass could not help but copy his grin.

  “It’s okay. My dad. He wouldn’t have wanted it that way.”

  A warm tingle returned to Cass’s cheeks.

  “I wouldn’t have wanted it that way.”

  The darkness seemed to continue its retreated as they took the moment and stared at one another. The green and blue eyes interlocked in the Deadwood and time fumbled its steps. Valente broke the gaze. He pulled back his hand nervously chuckling as he regained his royal composure.

  “We have to find Gregor, but we also have to find shelter. I could sleep until next harvest.”

  Cass quietly bit her lip as she nodded her sleepy head.

  The dark shadow of the canopy draped over Valente as he pulled the reins. The horse seemed to drag on the prince’s arm. It too demanded rest. Valente let the leather guide go limp as the horse sluggishly trotted into him. The prince looked up at the strange mass of stone. Looking up at the monument, Valente let his eyes adjust and attempt to decipher the stone’s purpose. The large obelisk stood in front of a small rock structure. Valente’s tired eyes blinked the building blur from his eyes. He pulled the horse to a messy and jagged collection of rock in front of the structure. His eyes refocused on the ancient stone. The faded text had been carved into a small pillar. The pillar served as a marker for a derelict entryway. Valente would have leapt with intrigue at the chance to explore an old ruin but exhaustion had beat him down. For now, it was an adequate place to rest. Valente lazily tied the horse to a jutting stone from the pile in front of him. After tying the steed, Valente pet the horse’s neck and smiled.

  “Thanks for getting us this far.”

  The creature snorted in response as it devoured a small family of grass in between the scattered stone. Valente moved his gaze onto the huntress laying on the horse. Cass was motionless bar the gently heaving of her breaths. Valente moved closer with a raised hand to shake her awake. Cass softly exhaled shifted her position on the horse’s back. Her hair shifted revealing her gentle and resting face. Valente held his hand. Something chivalrous built up inside him as he gently pulled her from the horse. Her weight shifted into his tired arms as Valente
grunted. Her weight reminded him of a more dire time. Letting his sentiment build again he carried her into the stone building. Her small frame reminded him of Maria. Valente shook his weary head and squinted into the entrance.

  The moonlight bounced off the old grey stone illuminating a small stone bench that ran along the front edge of the building. Valente placed the sleeping huntress onto the slab. Cass sleepily mumbled at her dream as she curled herself onto the stone. As the weight of Cass left his arms, his body swayed from exhaustion. Valente placed a hand against the stone wall for support. His arm numbly ached. He lowered himself onto the bench adjacent to Cass. Valente curled his knees upwards to help warm himself from the chill. He looked across at the huntress. She moved in her sleep and mumbled again louder. Her mouth moved on its own a whisper escaping from it. As Valente’s eyes fluttered shut, he heard the quiet muttering.

  “… Don’t leave, my prince…”

  Valente’s eyes fell shut as sleep claimed him.

  The sun crawled onto the ancient stone. Light shimmered from the entrance as the sun crowned the horizon above the woods. Bright rays glowed through her golden hair into the huntress’s eyes. Cass’s body ached as she blearily blinked awake. Cass pulled her head up from where it lay and looked to the rock walls around her.

  The stone room seemed to contain little aside from crumbled ruins and hard benches. As she pushed herself from the stone, she looked into the shadow deep in the room. The light of day had yet to stretch this far in the ruined building. Cass peered into the dark. Here, old torches hung on the grey walls unlit and unused. The decrepit sconces pointed to a small altar under the collapsed ceiling. Its smoothed surface was covered with small trinkets along with a few coins of silver. Cass blinked again pushing sleep behind her. An archaic stone statue stood behind the altar. The petrified figure was wrapped in an elegant and stony cloak. It bent down to the altar with its hands frozen in time as it shattered an ancient chain in two. Cass marveled in the effigy’s eternal moment.