The Fugitive Prince Read online

  Valente’s enthusiasm paid no heed to Gregor’s comments.

  “He led the charge for the greatest Liosian victory that turned the tide of war at Thorik Keep! And all of it right after season’s end! Hence his name.”

  The Winter Knight went to clarify the exaggerations. The prince’s vehemence caused him to pull back and simply watch as he smiled to himself. Valente excitedly clapped his hands together.

  “Some even say he’s a hero of old returned from the dead. Plus, he’s slain two Morpus by himself, and one was with his own bare hands. Who else but a hero could do that?”

  Gregor graciously bowed as he grinned. He placed a firm hand on the prince’s shoulder to stop the royal from exuding more history.

  “Most of that’s true,”

  The Liosian knight recovered his towering pose,

  “but that was a long time ago. My hair was a lot less grey and my skin was a lot less scarred and wrinkled. It was a time when Lios had some honor worth fighting for.”

  A small bit of shame burned in her stomach for her lack of recognition of a Liosian champion.

  “I had no idea.”

  Gregor humbly grinned as he looked around and seek his lost claymore.

  “That’s good. It’s how I wanted things. Less noise and distractions when you’re not famous.”

  Valente did his best to conceal his already obvious excitement.

  “It truly is an honor to travel with one such as you. Once we make it to the border I will have you reinstated as a knight of Tharia.”

  Gregor spotted his claymore lodged into the fallen Morpus and hobbled in its direction.

  “Well, prince, we can think about all that when we get there, but for now we should get moving. This is still Lost Men territory and Morpus like the smell of blood. It gets their juices flowing.”

  Cass nodded in agreement as she moved under Gregor’s arm to serve as his balance.

  “He’s right. We’ve lingered here more than we should .”

  A cool gust came down past the dark canopy and riffled through the prince’s black hair. Valente rubbed his head trying to hold the lost warmth in his scalp as he followed behind the knight and the huntress that hobbled with him. The open sky above had peeked through the Deadwood’s overhanging canvas. However, with the grey sky and heavy clouds, even the morning sun struggled to make itself know. The wind rose and blew again sending cold against Valente’s face. The chill prickled his skin. Valente looked to the grey clouds above. He placed his hand under the gloomy sky as a speck escaped the sky and floated past the patchy canopy above. A small white flake drifted on the wind and gently landed in the prince’s palm. The small dot of cold melted and faded away as quickly as it had appeared. Valente closed his palm into a fist savoring the miniscule jab of frost.

  “We must make haste.”

  Valente’s steps quickened behind the two, yet his gaze was locked onto the sky.

  “It’s nearing season’s end.”

  The horse snorted in pain and contempt. The steed glared and neighed at Valente who pretend as though he was not imagining a horse trying to communicate with him. The three were northbound almost breaking free from the sickening creep of the Deadwood. Gregor sat upon the creature and checked his many wounds for improvement.

  “You know. I can walk Cassy. You can ride the horse it is a lady’s—”

  Cass shot an adamant glare at the knight.

  “You may be some champion, but you need to rest. No chivalry, especially with me. I’m not getting on that horse.”

  The last statement was the easiest for Cass to say. Happy with the solid dirt underfoot and her effect on the now quiet knight she turned northwards. The cool wisps of air almost overcame the stench of the Deadwood. Cass sighed as she pulled up her hood. This was not the nature she loved.

  Gregor was smart and experienced enough to know not to argue with a Liosian woman. He sat back and pulled the horse to a slower trot. He moved to ride alongside Valente. The prince had fallen a few paces behind lost in thought and contemplation of sentient creatures. Gregor smiled and tapped the prince out his mental shell with the side of his large boot.

  “Hey, Val.”

  Valente was ready as his body caught itself against the force that threatened to knock him over. He looked up at Gregor. The clouds seemed to form around the knight as if he were a mountain among twisted trees.

  “Hey, Gregor.”

  Gregor smirked among his red bush of beard and turned his head. He poked it in the huntress’s direction.

  “She’s a keeper.”

  The prince lost his footing as the front of his boot clipped a nettle ash root that ambushed him with the comment. Valente bumped into the horse and knight’s leg beside him. Valente pushed off the horse as it laughed through its labored snorts. The prince brusquely wiped and straightened his clothing.

  “I must express again: It’s not like that. She’s just here to help me to Tharia. She’s a hired hand. A friend and nothing more.”

  Gregor looked at Valente. A knightly eyebrow raised itself in infuriating inquisition.

  “Oh really? You sure bleed a lot for someone who is just a friend.”

  A flustered wave hit Valente.

  “I must insist that it’s nothing. Besides, I have someone in Lios.”

  Gregor lowered his eyebrow as he raised his never-tiring cheeks. His wounds proved no impediment as he sarcastically bobbed his head.

  “If you say so, Val. If you say so.”

  The knight spurred the horse and himself ahead of the huntress. Gregor raised his voice so both of his companions could hear.

  “I’ll scout ahead. All this rest is tiresome.”

  Cass raised her palm to stop the knight, but her demands fell with her hand as Gregor and the horse ran off ahead. Cass stood for a moment while she decided whether to be upset at the knight’s brazen attitude or impressed by his unfailing vigor. Valente moved up and stood beside the huntress. She looked to Valente who gave her a shrug. Cass sighed as they both continued north.

  Valente and Cass walked forward among the gnarled trees. The forest was becoming sparser as the Deadwood lost its influence. Trees of green sprouted and air without a cost to breathe it soon became bountiful. The trees became vibrant with life as the glimpses of northern grasslands weaved into sight. Silent travel between the two lingered for a bit longer. The memory of the fetid miasma of the Deadwood had driven slivers of hesitation to their tongues. Cass and Valente opened their mouths at the same time to break it. Both in polite unison stopped themselves before attempting to speak again. Caught in a quiet stalemate, Valente smiled and gestured his open palm towards Cass who thankfully giggled.

  “Can I ask you something?”

  Valente smirked.

  “Isn’t that what you’re doing now?”

  Cass restrained her fist trying not to abuse the prince more than necessary.

  “You know what I’m asking fancy pants.”

  Valente’s smirk pulled back as he nodded for Cass to continue. Cass tugged her hood closer.

  “I was wondering. What you… What is Maria like?”

  Valente almost missed another step. Perhaps the boots were too big for him, or perhaps he thought she had heard the conversation between him and the knight. Valente swallowed as he addressed the unexpected question.

  “Duchess Maria? Well… She’s something else.”

  Valente’s memory pulled him out of his nervous start.

  “Outgoing and always looking for a good time I suppose.”

  Cass pulled her braid out of her hood. Her hand brushed against the knots of her braid.

  “Well, I meant something more.”

  Cass bit her lip.

  “Why did you fancy her?”

  Valente took a moment to ponder. A few grand Longbarks peppered the surrounding forest. Valente looked up at their collection of massive, overhanging branches in thought.

  “I’m not sure. I guess I haven’t thought about it before.”<
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  Valente looked to the huntress. Her face hid behind the side of her hood. He smiled.

  “She was one of the few people that didn’t see me as some outsider. Maybe it was because she was an outsider herself. No one saw her for the lady she was.”

  Valente rested his hand on his hilt rubbing the leather handle with his thumb.

  “They saw her as a tool to get to her father’s wealth… I guess it helped that she was pretty cute too.”

  Cass traced the silver clasp in her hair. Regret tarried heavier than the stench of the Deadwood from her question.

  “I see.”

  Cass lowered her head as to move deeper behind her hood. The silence shifted to make its return, but the prince intervened.

  “She wasn’t perfect though.”

  Cass’s head leaned ever so slightly to the prince. Valente tapped his blade as he sighed.

  “She could get pushy when she wanted to. I suppose that is why Jonathan fell for her. He often got what he wanted by yelling for it.”

  Valente lowered his head as Cass had prior.

  “I suppose that is how it is when you’re a prince.”

  Cass pulled her head up and let it escape from the reticent confines of her hood. She could do little to hold her smile’s small and hopeful rise.

  “Not all princes are like that.”

  The chill receded from Valente’s cheeks.

  “Mayhap you’re right.”

  Both carried through the trees. The sun slowly skimmed across the blue sky. The air held no contempt for its users as the grey trees and the thick smell stayed far behind them. Seldom Longbarks ceased their appearance as the forest met with fields and opened up. Seas of grass on horizons of hills scattered themselves in the distance just out of reach of the waning treeline. Cass furled her eyebrows displeased with the openness of the fields ahead. The steady and heavy trot of a horse brought an alert gaze under them. Cass and Valente looked west. A large knight on a poor horse trotted towards the edge of the trees they stood among. Gregor returned with a grim line of worry settling his forehead. He grasped the reins pulling the horse to a slow trot as it neighed its consistent displeasure. The knight settled the horse’s antsy temperament with three heavy pats to its neck. Valente winced for the horse. Gregor looked down to his agog companions.

  “Well, I’ve got bad news, and then I have bad news.”

  Valente did not like the options. Cass’s hood fell back as she looked up to meet Gregor’s portending eyes.

  “I think we’ll be taking the bad news first.”

  “I found a large set of tracks north. Has to be about ten mounted horses, probably more.”

  Gregor’s beard rustled against his jaded exhaled.

  “And judging by the deepness of the tracks they’re either carrying buckets of gold or they’re armored knights.”

  Gregor placed his clawed hand under his chin and shook his head letting the motion scratch his beard.

  “This far north and out in the open, they’d have to be military or Iron Stars.”

  Valente did not like these options either as he let an unintentional sigh seep from his faltering hope. Cass looked to both men for answers.

  “Iron Stars?” Cass questioned.

  Valente inhaled his ambitions back inside himself as he turned to Cass.

  “We met them before. Outside your cabin at Riverpeek. They’re the king’s personal mercenary outfit and they’re still hunting for me.”

  Cass looked down to the grass for a moment to process the information. Her gaze pulled back to the Liosian knight.

  “And the bad news?”

  Gregor did his best to keep his willful steed steady.

  “It looks like they’ve been patrolling all the main roads north of here and all the paths out of this forest. Judging by the formations, they are using old Farlosian slaver search grids. There’s no way we are getting past that without being spotted.”

  Gregor looked to the east along the trees and to the distant peaks on the skyline.

  “We will go through the mountain paths to get any further north.”

  Valente and Cass shivered in unison at the thought. Valente attempted to focus himself out of his lowering morale. He did his best to remember his goal and duty as he looked to the summits of the east.

  “It will be a long way up,”

  Cass nodded in the same direction, “and cold.”

  The huntress pulled her cloak closer to ward off the thought and the chill of the air. Gregor rubbed his burning beard as he continued to speak again.

  “It’s that or we risk open fields with highly trained Iron Stars. With one… balky horse.”

  Valente watched the white peaks stab through the clouds far in the distance. Small rugged patches of green sprung up in defiance on the far edges and cliffs. Valente did his best to swallow his hesitation hoping to taste a lingering drive.

  “Well, we shouldn’t waste time.”

  Gregor turned the horse to the mountains as lines of an obdurate steam shot from its nostrils.

  “Agreed.”

  Gregor spurred the horse ahead of the two as he trotted eastwards. Cass watched the knight scout. Her eyes ran over his many still fresh wounds. She shook her head at the disregard of the clear pain he was in and the rest he most likely deserved. Valente threw a glance at the corner of her eye breaking her worrying stare.

  “He’ll be fine. He’s a legend.”

  Cass let her breath escape her lips in a small wisping line against the chilled air.

  “Stories are immortal. People are not.”

  Cass stepped along the treeline towards the mountains. The retreating flow of the huntress’s cloak pulled Valente behind her, and their march towards the faraway bluffs began.

  -14-

  Days burned on as the three made their way through the Northern Liosian countryside. The forest had receded to the south leaving them travelling through gatherings of crops fields and swaths of grass. Light from the sun grew fainter while the cold of the night grew stronger for every moon that passed.

  Feeding a giant, a prince and a huntress was not an easy task. Cass did her best to hunt in the fields and farms as they went on their way to the mountains. Most animals snuggled in barns and behind fences. Each under the watchful gaze of the seldom and curious ranchers. Hunger would not force the huntress to take from her own people. Though where Cass had hesitated, Gregor eased the pestering of hunger. Occasionally he returned from his scouting trots with moderate amounts of suspiciously gained fruits and vegetables. Though Valente and Cass initially tried to oppose such actions, their stomachs divulged their real values as they gorged themselves on fresh and stolen crops.

  Their days of travels crossed over many grassy knolls. A small village poked out from among the fields as the three travelled through the scattered hills surrounding it. Groups of farmers worked their farms toiling at the stalks of crop. They collected their bounties among their pastures of green and gold. The Season of Sun was ending.

  Valente had put forward his desire to swing by the village for just one day. He wanted to have a moment’s break from the cold and unforgiving nights beneath a vast and uncovered sky. The open nature itched at his royal skin and the unfettered cold clawed at his princely blood. Cass had agreed with the knight as to not build fires to attract attention to patrols. Valente expressed his protest once more. Gregor looked at the prince with a compassionate grin.

  “Suck it up, princess.”

  Valente did not complain about the open countryside after that.

  The large barrier of stone jutted out from the ground as it clawed at the heavens. Snow-riddled peaks defied any who would challenge them. The Nital Mountains. Valente trudged to them; his body was tired of travel and trekking. Meadows of wheat and plantations of fruit orchards rested between him and the pillars of stone that reached into the sky. The group remained vigilant and cut around the outskirts of the outlying farmland. Far enough for the prying eyes of farming peasants to not
dawdle more than necessary.

  A small stone partition separated a vibrant orchard from the waving reeds of grass that the three tread through. The knight pulled the horse beside the minor wall and reached over it. Gregor snatched an apple from the nearest bountiful tree. His beard rose up in glee and took a deep and nourishing bite. He nodded his head in satisfied judgment.

  “A little sour, but it’s almost harvestable.”

  The knight tore two more ripe fruit from the tree and tossed them down to his companions. Cass snatched it from the air. Valente barely stopped the fruit from hitting the ground as it pounded him in the chest. His balanced teetered as he nearly took the place of the ground-bound apple. Valente looked at the crisp shimmer of the red skin. Small slivers of green still ran through it, but the prince was not feeling picky. Taking the bite, he let the juice flow sloppy onto his cheek. The slight tang complemented the savory sweetness. He looked to Gregor and agreed with a smile.

  “Not bad at all.”

  The three continued through the path of grass with their eyes set on the grand mountains before them. Cass looked at them as they loomed. Her eyes then drifted beyond them at the lands her mother once traversed to save Cass’s life. The Wild Lands. Cass meticulously counted her quivered arrows. Her mind lost count distracted by the mountains and what laid beyond them.

  “You ever been up there before Gregor?”

  The knight turned on his horse glimpsing over his shoulder with a welcoming grin.

  “Ohm’s Spine? Once or twice.”

  The knight pulled back on the mount and rode beside the two on foot.

  “One of the final parts of Liosian Royal Training is to survive four moons alone up there with nothing more than the clothes on your back and a half-rusted dagger.”

  The sway of green meadows had dragged the prince in a near hypnotic daydream. The talk of royal training snapped him forward with avid interest.

  “How did you survive?”

  Gregor let out a cheery laughed and let it fill his smile. His healing wounds could do little to hampered his jovial persona.

  “I nearly didn’t.”

  Cass was pulled out of her thoughts of the Wild Lands as Gregor gestured on his horse.