It had been a week since the raid on the palace, and things were going smoothly. Almost too smoothly.
Since Cole was a person that was constantly in danger, it felt awkward. But he dismissed the thought. But little did he know, he was right.
To find something to do, Cole decided to go to the shooting range to waste time.
Twenty feet. Bulls eye.
Fifty feet. Bulls eye.
One hundred feet. Bulls eye.
Every time he shot, it hit dead center, piercing his other perfect shots. He had known there was no use practicing archery. But maybe swordplay?
He decided to ask Magnus if he wanted to practice. He just needed something to do. Something like a mission.
* * * * *
Cole secured his sheath to his belt as he and Magnus stepped into the training ring. Turns out, Magnus had nothing to do either.
The training ring was a barren space. There was nothing much there but the sandy floor and a few large rocks here and there. "Ready?" asked Magnus.
"You bet I am," came the reply of Cole.
The sound of steel scraping against leather filled the ring as the two friends drew their swords. They charged at each other, swords raised. But on Cole's side, it was a feint.
He threw the sword around Magnus's legs, which confused Magnus, who paused for a second. But that was the second that decided the winner. Seizing the opportunity, Cole leaped through Magnus's legs, and picked up his sword leaving a cloud of sand behind him.
Both men spun around facing each other. They both needed to be fast with their next move, but Cole was quicker. He swung his sword, locking onto the place between Magnus's grip and the hand guard, and flicked his wrist, making Magnus's sword fly out of his hand. This left Magnus defenseless.
Cole's sword flashed around, knocking Magnus kneeling on the dry, sandy ground. Cole pointed his sword at Magnus's head. "I win"
* * * * *
The two friends sat in the dusty training, ring drinking from their water flasks.
"Cole," said Magnus. "I need to tell you something."
"What?" asked Cole.
Magnus took a huge breath. "I'm running away." Cole stared at him silently. "And I just wanted to know if you would come." Cole continued to stare. "You don't have to come, but if you're not, please don't tell."
"Are you kidding!?!?!" said Cole. "Count me in!"
* * * * *
Turns out, they were leaving that night. And somehow, Magnus had convinced Amanda to come. The three of them would meet at the stables at moonhigh, hoping to be able to go unnoticed.
Cole was hoping to get some rest, but he just couldn't sleep. He peeked out the window, seeing it was nearly moonhigh. He put on a chain-mail shirt over his white one, and pulled on his cloak, pulling up his hood. He also slung on his bow and belted on his scabbard, sheathing his sword.
Cole quietly opened his door and stepped into the hallway. He then realized that Magnus hadn't been in the room. He must have sneaked away without Cole noticing him. He was good at that, Cole thought.
He walked down the hall towards the back door that led to the stables. He opened the back door, but the hinges creaked. He stopped and held his breath. He stayed like that for a minute, and then went through the doorway, figuring no one had heard.
He stepped into the soft hay of the stables, and could hear horses snorting.
"Cole," whispered a voice. It was Magnus. "Over here!"
Cole walked toward the voice, and was soon in front of Magnus, who was holding the rains of two horses. Amanda was mounted beside him.
"Take this," Magnus whispered, shoving a satchel at Cole. Then he handed him the rains to one of the horses, a broad, black stallion. The horse was already saddled.
Cole slung the satchel around his head, and mounted the horse. Magnus mounted his ride soon after. They quietly trotted toward the gate. But they had forgotten one thing.
The sentries.
They trotted through the gate, which had lazily been left open. But on the other side, there were guards. As soon as they rode through the gate, a horn blared. The trio broke out into a fully-fledged gallop. There must have been a dozen men chasing them!
"To the deserts of Adriddien," Cole said. "We can lose them there."
The others nodded in agreement, and headed to the plains that grew into desert. But the guards were gaining, and they knew they had to do something fast.
Cole heard the sound of a crossbow quarrel, and leaned to the right. It just skimmed his cloak, leaving a small cut. But he had a bigger problem. When he had leaned, he used to much force, and his left foot came out of the stirrup! He slid off the saddle, and he was being dragged along, his foot in the stirrup.
Cole pulled his foot out, and tumbled to the ground, leaving him just five yards from the enemy. He jumped up, facing, the enemy, barely a yard away now. He reached for his bow, and it wasn't there! Then he remembered. His weapons were on his horse.
He was defenseless. The guards soon had him surrounded. Amanda turned around briefly in her saddle. There were tears in her eyes.
