Prince of Traitors

Owin

The hooded bandit dismounts. His boots splash into the mud.

Three more men dismount behind us, leaving three on their horses. The mounted men walk their horses in a wide circle around us, trapping Jasper and me with the four men on the ground with us. They all have short swords and ragged cloaks. One sneers at me, eyeing me possessively.

I shift my aim from man to man as they cross in front of me. The rain threatens to obscure my vision; I can't see far into the line of trees. I can only hope there aren't more of these bandits waiting out of my sight. The rain soaks my clothing and numbs my skin. My breath floats from me in quick white puffs, but my bow arm is steady.

The hooded man with the beard seems to be the one in charge. He smirks and steps forward. My arrow points directly at him.

Jasper raises his sword. "Don't come any closer," he says.

The man pauses. The look on his face is smug. "We heard the prince escaped with help. Didn't know it was a Navaarim savage," he says.

"Keep talking," I growl. "And this savage will shoot you in the eye."

The man unsheathes the short sword at his side. But instead of coming at us, he steps back.

I hear footsteps behind me and whirl around. One of the men behind us comes at me with his sword raised, giving a ragged cry. I raise my bow arm and fire my arrow into his chest. It makes a wet thump on impact. He falls with a pained yell.

Another man comes at Jasper. He raises his sword to parry the man's blade. The swords ring and spark against each other. The prince knocks away the other man's attack, sending the bandit falling backward.

A third man comes at me with a yell. I pull an arrow from my bow hand and nock it. I fire at the man. It sinks into his eye socket and he dies while still on his feet. I step aside before he falls into me. His blood spurts and splatters on my breeches.

I feel a sudden pain on the outside of my left thigh. I cry out and whirl around. The hooded man with the beard has slashed his sword across my leg in a shallow cut. I nock and fire an arrow at him, but he's too close and I miss. My arrow flies in a high arc, cutting through the rain past his head.

Jasper swings his sword at the hooded man, but the man blocks the blow.

I drop to one knee, pressing my hand hard against the steadily bleeding cut on my thigh.

The hooded man and his companion, the one Jasper knocked over, do not continue to attack. They back away, toward the three remaining mounted men.

"Retreat," the bearded man snaps. He and the last man mount their horses in fluid movements.

I wince at the pain in my thigh as I remove my hand from the cut. The blood running into my boot is hot, but the rain is cold and raises gooseflesh on my skin. I nock and fire arrow after arrow in quick succession, but I'm off-balance. One hits the hooded man in the back of the shoulder.

He snarls and hunches over his horse's neck. He and the other four men take off, their horses crashing into the brush and the rain. I fire another arrow after their horses. The animals spook, shying and snorting, but their riders do not fall as they crash into the forest.

Jasper keeps his sword aloft and at the ready. He peers at the trees around us, nervously watching. "Are you okay?" he asks.

I loop my bow over my head, crossing it over my back. I press the heel of my hand against the cut on my thigh. "I'm fine. It's shallow. Grab those horses before they run off." I pull another strip of fabric off of my cloak out of my satchel and quickly wrap it around the wound on my left thigh, tying it tight. I wince at the sharp pain.

The prince sheathes his sword across his back and hurries to grab the reins of two of the horses that the bandits left behind. They're both bays, their saddles and coats dark with the rain. He holds the reins of both horses, one in each hand. I stand upright, slightly limping. The remaining horse, a chestnut, shakes the rain from its mane.

I unbuckle its saddlebags. I shoulder the bags and smack the horse on its rear. It squeals and canters into the trees. Jasper holds the two bays still as they toss their heads, wanting to follow their friend.

I put my left foot in the stirrup of one of the bays. I grit my teeth at the wave of pain that sears through my leg. I climb into the saddle, my hands slipping on the wet leather as Jasper loops the reins over the horse's head to hand them to me. I'm suddenly very tired, the adrenaline leaving my body. I slump forward in the saddle.

"You're sure you're okay?" he asks, looking up at me.

"I'm fine," I snap through a clenched jaw. I twist around to secure the extra saddlebags to my horse.

The prince sighs and runs a hand through his wet hair, slicking it back and wiping the rain from his eyes. He mounts the other horse, swinging up smoothly into the saddle.

I steer my horse north and kick it into a canter. Jasper urges his horse forward after mine. Thunder cracks overhead, the rain pouring down to numb my skin and wash the blood from the corpses we leave in the grass.