Prince of Time

Chapter Seventeen - True Colours

“You look battered, Zeno,” Ane looked concerned.

“Blame his royal arrogance over there,” Zeno scowled in Tobiah’s direction. “He seems to think that teaching me to fight is best done by beating me to a pulp.”

“I know how you feel,” Ane made a face. “Maple’s a drill sergeant.”

“Maple?” Zeno laughed humourlessly. “Oh, if only Maple would teach me to fight! You got the soft option, Ane.”

“Complaining about us?” Pepper strolled over. “You’ll thank us later when you come out of your first real fight.”

“Didn’t the bandits count?” Ane looked disappointed.

“Not a chance. We just ran.”

“Are we ready to go?” Zeno asked. “I thought we were meant to be leaving.”

“Well, Tobiah’s sulking over there and Nicanor is saying goodbye.”

The glint in Pepper’s eye suggested that ‘goodbye’ would take a long time to say.

“I thought we were in a hurry,” Zeno kicked at the dust. “Rescuing the fair princess from a hideous fate.”

“I think that’s why Tobiah’s sulking,” Pepper glanced over at the prince. “Maple says he didn’t have a plan. He just rode north in the hope that something would turn up.”

“So where are we headed?” Ane cried, throwing up her hands in despair. “Do we even have a direction? Do we know what we’re looking for?”

“We’re going north through a far more populated part of Harian,” Pepper furrowed her brow, trying to remember, “and we’re going to keep our ears open for any word of stirrings in the north. We’ll just head for the mountains until something comes up.”

“Sounds like a hopeless mission,” Zeno knotted his hands together. “Even if we do find her, we’re going to die.”

“That’s the warrior way,” Pepper said, cheerfully.

“I’m not a warrior,” Zeno scowled but he left it at that.

They had left the road through the forest the day before and now were cutting across farmland. People grew in numbers and curious eyes watched them wherever they went.

“It’s our uniforms,” Ane whispered. “We look like strangers.”

“We’d look like strangers anyway,” Tobiah told her. “At least let’s make a show of it.”

People stopped work to watch them pass, every action hostile. Conversation ceased the moment they drew near. Those passing down the road stepped as far out of their way as possible.

“Know anyone round here, Nicanor?” Maple asked in an undertone. “Because I don’t want to spend the night sleeping rough in this place and I doubt anyone has a room going spare.”

“This isn’t exactly my ground,” Nicanor muttered. “I’ve been here before but not enough to be known.”

“Well, that’s helpful.”

“Shush,” Nicanor hissed. “You think whispering is going to help us here? Look how they watch us. At least I know how to pass through a place. You don’t have a clue.”

“Where are you going?”

A man stepped out in front of them, arms crossed. He raised an eyebrow, waiting for a reply.

“Nowhere of your concern,” Tobiah answered, seeming to accidentally let his coat fall open.

The sword hilt gleamed in the sunlight. The young man’s eyes locked on it.