Enchantment of the Bow

Chapter Seven

A white horse with long mane and feathered feet is the first thing that we see, being at the head of the group.

It's rider's face is hidden by the shadows of a dark hood, and behind them, several men on dark horses. As we ride closer to each other, I see the unmistakable black eyes of the white draft, and I immediately recognize it as a Vann Hest.

Kaladin keeps his broadsword by his side as our clans pull to a stop in front of each other.

Lasreal pins his ears, and gives a small screech when he sees the other beast, and I try my best to steady him. The other Vann Hest flicks his ears back and roars back in return, a malicious glint in his fish eyes.

I see Adolin shiver at the sound of the beast cries, and Jed glances warily at me. Now they all know for sure that Lasreal is no ordinary horse. The other ponies shy and show the whites of their eyes, whinnying and quivering nervously.

Some of the men in front of us have the blue and yellow colors on with my kingdoms symbol of a rearing horse on their chests, but none are from my personal Guard. They have come far in search of me.

I catch the eye of one man near the flank, and his eyes hold an unsettling familiarity. He seems to have a small flash of recognition, but it is gone as quickly as it had come.

I had recognize him as soon as I lay eyes on him. My brother. He had died at war, I know he had! But this is surely him, right in front of my eyes, the man who taught me everything...

Lance does not wear my colors, but instead, bears the greens and whites of Whales, the stamp of an eagle on his broad chest.
Why Whales? Why not mine? Why had the bastard not come back to me if he had survived!

I clench my hand into a fist and kneed it into Lasreal's dark neck in frustration. Though I feel like an erupting volcano on the inside, I keep my face clean of emotions as I stare at him.

The man in the front on the white Vann Hest is also in the colors, but his clothing is made of far better quality cloth and his tight fitting shirt looks much more comfortable on the skin. He lowers his hood. His hair is perfectly black, with eyes as green as the lush ferns and trees around us. He wears a crown that fits his head snugly, and appears to be made of sliver that is twisted into an incredible pattern around his forehead. He looks to be about twenty-five years of age.

It must be the prince of Whales, the next in line beside his father  to rule the wealthy kingdom that lies in the hills near the ocean, a days ride from Nordic. Approximately a two days ride from here. It had been two since I left.

It infuriates me that the king had sent his son to come in search of me, most likely in attempts to impress my father. But what is most unimpressive, is the fact that he wouldn't come and look himself. How pathetic.

"Excuse us," The prince says with a slight accent. "Have you seen a young girl around here? She would have been riding by herself."

I swallow, in fear that his brief description would give me away to Kaladin and Adolin.

To my relief and utter shock, Kaladin laughs curtly. "Had I seen a girl," He says, staring at the man with narrowed eyes. "I would have killed her. But lucky for you, I have not."

The man furrows his brow, apparently insulted. "I beg your pardon, but you must have been born daft if you are talking to me this way. Do you know who I am?"

Kaladin sneers. "Oh yes, your highness, if you've seen one spoils prince, you've seen em all." My jaw nearly drops with how he addresses the prince, his own or not, he could easily be killed for his scrutiny.