famously unfamous (alternate) | jaron artolius eckbert iii

Five

"Sage!" I screamed. I swung my lantern on my horse, named Blackjack.

I received no answer, so I urged her into a trot, yelling for the boy. I heard Mott nearby, calling for him as well.

"The devils have you, Sage, answer me!" he yelled. "Where are you?"

"Over here," Sage called weakly.

I dismounted and crushed dead leaves underfoot, running towards his voice.

We found him lying on the bank of the river, legs half submerged in the water.

Mott cantered over and slid off his horse. "There you are," he said, sounding more relieved than angry. "How'd you get so far away?"

He didn't bother answering.

Mott and I crouched beside him. "I told Conner he's a fool to consider using you as his prince."

"Princes ride in carriages, not on horseback," Sage said.

"As it so happens, a prince will often ride on horseback."

"Not with that horse."

I grinned. "No, not that horse. Where is she?"

"Long gone. I can't even tell you which direction."

"Father will be furious. He was going to have her broken soon. Are you hurt?"

"I think bruises are the worst of it. She stopped to get a drink of water and I fell off."

I laughed. "You stayed on through the ride and fell off when she stopped? Cregan's going to laugh all night about that."

Sage rolled the rest of the way out of the stream and pulled his legs up close to him. "Just tell him I stayed on through the ride. Or he'll make lessons just as bad tomorrow."

"Sorry, but at some point, you will have to learn that you can't say whatever you want to whomever you want," Mott sighed. "There are consequences for your sharp tongue, and this is one of them. I hope it will prove to be your most valuable lesson today."

Valuable lessons were code words for pain that no one apologized for.

"I'm cold. Can we go back?"

"You've got a cut on your cheek," I murmured.

I brushed a finger over it, though in the darkness of the woods, it was hard to tell if there was any blood on it. It didn't feel wet. "I think it's stopped bleeding," I told him.

"Conner won't like that," Mott warned. "He doesn't want to present a prince at court who's got cuts and bruises all over him."

"It'll heal by then."

I extended an arm to help Sage onto the back of my horse. Sage stared at the ground for a moment, and then looked up at us. "I need your help, Charlette, Mott. Conner's never going to choose me just as I am."

I took Sage's hand and lifted him up. "Not as you are right now. Let's get you back and cleaned up."

"Did I miss sword fighting?"

"We canceled it to look for you," Mott said.

"What about dinner?"

"They're eating right now."

"I can only imagine how Roden and Tobias will talk about me to Conner."

Mott and I began riding back to the stables. The springtime night had cooled, and Sage shivered in his wet clothes, cuddling up to my now damp nightgown. Mott must have felt sorry for him because he spent most of the ride instructing the two of us on how to manage a wild horse. Unfortunately, I had other things on my mind, so I missed most of the lecture. Too bad, because what I did hear actually sounded interesting.