Prince of Traitors

Kieran

The woods are as dark as the night sky as we leave Oxgarde behind. We don't wait to see if someone discovers the wrecked cart on the road from our skirmish with Rahmi and Val.

The dark trees slowly begin to thin as we approach a tiny Astrian village. It's all just wooden buildings with thatched roofs, only a few dirt streets wide. There are no guards, and very few people out on the street. The only building lit up is a tavern. I can't read the small wooden sign on the side of the road, but Jasper tells us where we are.

"Freymire," he says. He peers into the village, his eyes finally landing on the tavern. "There are horses tied over there." He pointed to the tavern, where half a dozen horses were tied outside, munching hay from a trough. "We should take them. We'd get up into the mountains faster on horseback."

Owin raises an eyebrow at him. "Never thought you'd be the one to suggest stealing," she says teasingly.

Jasper rolls his eyes. "I was just kidnapped. I want to get to your tribe's territory as soon as possible."

That's fair enough, I suppose. I want us to get home as soon as we can too, but I don't let the prince know that I agree with him. "So, how do you propose we do it?" I ask. "Just walk up and take them?"

"Why not?" Jasper says. "There's no one outside. If one of us keeps watch, we can just grab them."

I peer at him, but Owin grins. "Bold. I like it," she says. She turns to her sister. "Wait out of sight and keep watch for us. We'll bring a horse for you."

Nimia frowns, unhappy that she's not part of the action. "I can get my own horse," she protests.

Owin shakes her head. "If someone sees us, it'll be trouble," she says.

Nim sighs. "Fine." She crouches in the brush out of sight of any eyes in the tavern and waits as we approach the tavern.

The steps leading up to the tavern's front doors are empty of any patrons; they're all inside, keeping warm with the fire in the hearth and the ale in their bellies. Owin peers in a window to make sure no one is heading for the door as Jasper and I untie four horses from their posts. I can hear people inside: jaunty laughter and singing, the murmur of speech.

We're quick and silent about it. Jasper hands off one of the horses he holds to Owin and gives a soft click of his tongue as he leads the horse he holds away from the tavern toward the brush where Nimia waits.

The horses are a little confused, but they don't fuss as we adjust their tack. I shorten Nimia's stirrup leathers and hoist her up into the saddle. I turn to help Owin get up into the saddle, worrying about the injury on her abdomen, but Jasper has beat me to it.

He grips her knee and gives her a boost up into the saddle. For a second, I watch as he watches her, his expression soft. He says something I can't hear, and she grins.

I have to look away as a foul feeling courses through me. I busy myself with tightening the cinch on Nimia's horse for a moment before turning to my own horse and mounting up. I can feel Nimia's eyes on me, but I don't look at her. I don't look at Owin or Jasper either as I turn my horse northward and kick the beast into a canter.