His Captive Sorceress

Chapter 55: Allies

Eyes forward. Don't run. Eyes forward. Don't run.

I nearly leap behind the ridge. My frame slips into shadow, no longer illuminated by the campfires. My breathing is ragged, and my arms are trembling, but I made it. I'm out of sight of the hundreds of soldiers in the queen's army.

I survey my surroundings – a maze of trenches cutting into the orange dirt, lit only by the moonlight overhead. It's as if the land dried and broke into large cracks like an old riverbed.

The queen ordered that Trevus and I be split up. I was kept on the northern side of the camp, so my search will begin in the south. I make my way through the trench. The walls are tall enough to conceal a person - perfect to stay hidden as I trace the camp's perimeter.

A streak of firelight across my path brings me to a sudden stop – a gap in the trenches that's visible to the camp. I duck down low at the sound of voices – a handful of men. They grow louder as they approach the trenches – are they on patrol, or have they come to relieve their bladders?

My trench lights up in an orange glow. A soldier rounds the corner up ahead, his torch illuminating my crouched frame. He's on watch. Salts.

I leap up and rush back down the trench the way I came. Winding back around a corner has my feet screeching to a stop. Another burley short-haired soldier is only twenty feet away. He's turning to face me. I jerk around again and break off at a fork in the path. They're patrolling the trenches too.

"Mephian girl!" I hear the soldier call. He saw me. His footsteps are following. I rush down another path, but deep voices seem to emanate from every direction. Which way is the camp? I've lost my orientation, and there's no way I'm peeking over a ridge.

I skid around another corner, and my boot catches on a root. I stumble, falling to my hands and knees. It's impossible to see in here.

I leap back up again.

"Halt or die!" a voice booms over my head. My eyes snap to the source, and I freeze - two large men stand just a few feet ahead, both holding torches in their left hands and javelins in their right.

I still in place. Leaping forward might put their bare hands in reach, but the image of their cold steel puncturing my heart keeps my feet rooted.

The footsteps behind me grow closer. I'm surrounded, with trench walls to my left and right, and soldiers both in front and behind. The two soldiers ahead scrutinize my frame. I recognize them – they both escorted us to the queen's tent, and the younger one is the soldier Trevus kneed after he yanked my wrist chain.

"It's the mage," the soldier says. "But who's the archer?"

Archer?

A hand grips my dress, and I'm pulled backwards and away from the two soldiers. A burley figure steps between us with his back to me. A quiver hangs over his shoulder, and his bow is drawn taut - aimed right at the two soldiers.

The soldiers take a step back at the sight of the archer, raising their javelins as if ready to hurl at the both of us. "I said halt or die!" one shouts. They're not allies.

The archer glances back at me, and my mouth falls open.

"Evening, Mephian girl," the archer says. Giddius.

Giddius watches the soldiers. Despite being matched one against two, the soldiers appear far more frightened than he does.

"Drop your weapon!" the younger soldier says.

Giddius remains fixed in place like a rock, his frame shielding mine both from the soldiers' view and their weapons. "Be warned," Giddius begins in his gruff voice, "Had I executed this operation as I pleased, the both of you would be dead before laying eyes upon my bow."