The Pirate Groom

Chapter Seventeen

Ferecita's mood darkened with each passing turn in the road.

An hour ago, the horse had stopped pulling the cart.

Upon inspection, she saw that the beast had passed out from exhaustion, held up only by the strength of the two wooden splines to which its harness was tied.

When she had stolen the cart earlier that morning, she had only anticipated the two female captives, so she had not stolen a larger cart or more horses. Now, with three captives, two barbarians, and whatever Mosca was, the horse had not been able to endure the duration of their trip.

Erik untied the horse gently, lifted it like a newborn baby, and placed it gingerly in the back of the cart.

"Now what are we going to do?" Ferecita muttered, chafing at the thought of being the de facto leader of this group. This was precisely why she preferred to work alone.

As Erik rested the horse's head on a blanket, he nodded to Lars, who hopped off the cart. Stepping to the front, Lars threw back the ropes and buckles, hoisted the two splines in his hand, and pulled the cart along like a rickshaw.

At first, they made good time. But now, an hour later, they were moving slower. Ferecita suspected that it wasn't necessarily because Lars was tired.

She was about to question Lars and Erik further about their role in the overall plan when they rounded another curve in the road. The lush trees and dense foliage on either side hid the fact that there was a blockade straight ahead, only visible after they made the turn.

The blockade was manned by five of the King's men, clothed in the crimson tunics of the Royal Guard. These were not men to be trifled with.

A thick, wooden barrier blocked their path. Hiding now was impossible, and escape difficult. The King's men all stood, withdrawing their swords slowly. They were confused, unsure what to make of the mountainous man pulling the cart.

"Whoa, there," the tallest of the guards said, brandishing his sword.

Ferecita knew that their only way forward now... was forward.

"What is the trouble?" Ferecita asked innocently.

"What is your purpose on the King's Highway?"

"We..." Ferecita started but was unable to finish. Her original plan hadn't involved this many passengers, so she hadn't prepared a story to explain them. She struggled to do so now.

"We are but simple merchants looking to sell our wares at the market in the next town," Mosca said smoothly.

"Then why does that man have a gag over his mouth?" The guard pointed his sword, indicating Miracle Max. "And those two women? And why are their hands tied?"

All of the guards stood more defensively, digging their heels into the dirt, expecting trouble.

"That is what we sell. Ropes and gags. These three are models," Ferecita offered.

The guard, clearly dubious, turned his sword toward where Ferecita and Mosca were sitting.

"Then take the gag off. If he has nothing to say, we will let you pass. Otherwise..."

He let the statement hang in the air. Ferecita knew there would be no more questions.

It was time for action.

She was preparing to spring from her seat and take out the two guards on the right, hoping Mosca would do the same. Probably he would. Her thighs tensed as her hand slid slowly toward the hilt of her weapon when she heard movement behind her.