The Princess's Servant

38. The Frying Pan

"So this is who it's come down to, huh?" the buff bandit said. "The smart ones."

The female bandit and the helmeted bandit stared at the man from across the burning fire. They said nothing, but the buff bandit could feel the intensity of their gaze.

"It's a shame that soon the only ones left will be me and him." He drew a wicked black blade from his hip and tossed it in Holden's direction. "I'll really miss working with such suckers."

As the fire reflected off the dark knife, the princeling wished he had tried a little harder at escape. Nara probably could have given him a head start on his knots before they'd noticed her, couldn't she have?

The female bandit stood with the buff bandit, and soon they were locked in a staring battle for the ages. Neither moved as their muscles tensed and itched for a fight. The helmeted one just sat there, prodding at his soup— waiting to take on the winner, Holden guessed. The buff bandit twitched to start the chase and the female bandit fell to the floor in a heap of piled body parts.

The victor looked initially delighted, but then rightfully confused. He hadn't touched her. So who—?

The buff bandit felt a wave of fatigue pour over his body as he fell to a crouch. What was this extreme sleepiness that had come over him? He'd never felt such in his life. He fought and clawed to stay awake, but slowly, slowly, his body, too, fell to the forest floor.

The helmeted bandit stood. He set aside his untouched food and moved the buff bandit's arm out of the way of the burning fire.

The bandit approached Holden.

"How did you...?" Holden started, but then he knew the answer. "The stew," he said. "You put something in it."

The masked bandit did not respond.

Holden was getting very tired of kidnappings, but he wondered if he couldn't spin this one in his favor. "Listen," he said. "Whoever you are. Take me back to Ward and I'll get you what you want — win-win style. What do you say?"

The helmeted bandit stared down at Holden and slashed the binds that held him to the tree. Holden smiled and felt his blood return to his limbs as he wearily rose. But his joy was brief as the brute scooped him up in his massive arms and tossed him over his shoulder.

The prince flailed and protested, but soon his world blurred and faded from view.

*****

The camp was deserted. The fire was dying. The princess and her escort brought their horses to a halt at the end of the tracks.

The servant of Ward dismounted his horse and took two fingers to the neck of a fallen bandit.

"Sleeping," he said. "Both of them."

Sybil checked the pot. Her eyes drank in the sight of a single white flower in the mix. "Locksbane," she said as she pulled the delicate form from the broth. Her companion cocked an eyebrow. "Grows in the valley," she explained. "Every petal can put twenty to sleep."

Sebastian nodded. "Well, it looks like we just missed him. Fire's still warm, which means the tracks will be fresh." He hopped over the sleeping bandit. "I'll take the north side if you take south."

"There's no need," Sybil said, casting the limp flower to the side. "The bandit who took the Wardian will be headed for Lailoy. We'll find him there."

"In Lailoy?" Sebastian asked. "But Ward's so much richer. Why wouldn't the bandit ransom your servant to his royal palace?"

Sybil shrugged. "There are forces in this world stronger than greed," she said.

Sebastian narrowed his eyes. "Such as?" He asked.

"Love of one's country." The princess smiled and she mounted her speckled steed.

The prince's servant twitched his head in unspoken disagreement, but he mounted his horse all the same and followed Princess Sybil at great speed back to her castle.

A/N: I'm going to try updating 2x a week! I am writing another book in addition to this one,  so we'll see how long I can keep this up, but...

I'm optimistic :)

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