Prince of Traitors

Jasper

It's slow going on foot, but Owin and I steadily make our way toward Astria. The forest stretches across Odrend from the eastern coast to the mountain ranges along the border to the west. Further north, closer to Morsenas, the terrain of the country shifts to flat grasslands.

I follow Owin's lead through the woods, setting campfires while she hunts. We spend several long days navigating the forest. The trees provide cover from the roads that wind toward the border. We circle around any towns we come across on the road, avoiding any patrolling guards.

The cut on my chest aches slightly, but it appears the blade that cut me was not poisoned. If it was, the bitter liquid that Owin gave me has cleared it from my blood.

We travel parallel to one of the main roads going west. Owin and I don't speak, but we pass a water skein between us, saving the second one for later. I hear the clatter of something wooden behind us and turn.

A line of five carts meanders along the dirt road parallel to our route. The canvas roofs of the carts are draped in golden cloth emblazoned with the royal seal, the phoenix's flaming wings spread wide and triumphant.

I catch Owin's sleeve, and gesture for her to kneel in the brush next to me. We watch as the carts approach. "We should catch one of those," I whisper.

"Absolutely not," she says.

"They're going to the border."

"How do you know that?"

I point to the golden banners adorning the carts. "See those?" Owin leans forward to peer through the bushes at the carts and nods. "That means their cargo has been checked and it's being delivered to the battle camps at the border. Guards won't check the carts again until they reach the soldiers' settlements."

"How would we even get on a cart?" she asks with a frown.

"We could sneak on," I offer.

Owin shakes her head. "No good. We could get separated again, and you know how well that went last time."

I sigh, watching the carts get closer and closer to us. "What if we just asked for a ride?"

Owin gives me a sharp look. "Are you insane?"

"Do you have a better idea?" I ask. "It's this or walking the rest of the way."

She watches the carts for a moment, her bright silver irises flitting back and forth. I can see the contemplation in her tight face as she thinks. Finally, she turns to me. "We'll need to color your hair again," she says. "The beard too."

I swipe a hand across my face and feel the short stubble that has begun growing over my jaw. I nod. "Deal."

*

Owin refreshes the dark brown of my hair with the brick of dye and rubs it onto the short hairs along my jaw until my eyes and aquiline nose are my only recognizable features. She stands before me when she's done, inspecting my face. She nods in approval.

We've moved further along our path so we're ahead of the line of carts a bit. Owin checks the road and sees the carts approaching. She reaches for her cloak, but I stop her with a hand on her arm.

"It's too warm for a cloak. It could raise suspicion," I say.

Owin frowns, realizing I'm right. She fluffs up her hair instead, draping the silver curls over her right ear to cover her slave's mark.

She gives me a tense look, her pale brows furrowed and mouth pressed into a tight line, but then she nods slightly as the line of carts approaches. We step out onto the road.

As the first cart rumbles up the road behind us, Owin and I turn and pause as if we hadn't noticed it before.

The pair of draft horses hauling the cart pulls to a stop before us. The old man driving the cart gives us a warm smile. An old woman pokes her head out from behind the curtain behind him.

"Are you travellers?" the old man asks.

"Yes," I reply. "We're going to the Astrian border."

"Do you two need transport?" the old woman asks. "That's an awfully long way to go on foot."

"Oh, we don't want to impose—"

"No worries, dear, we're headed there ourselves," the woman says. She disappears inside the cart and opens up the back. It's only now that she seems to notice Owin. "Oh, you're a Navaarim."

"She's with me," I say. "This is Owin. I'm—Kieran."

The woman eyes Owin's silver hair, but allows us both onto the cart. The man sitting in front urges the horses onward, and the cart clatters forward with a jolt. Owin and I settle in amongst the crates of goods as the cart moves west, toward the country of my enemies.