The Thief and Prince

Chapter 14: Time For Some Fun

Laria takes a steadying breath and wipes her face on her shirt sleeve, giving me a nod. It was strange to see her so vulnerable—if only for a moment—as it went against every characteristic I have come to know. "I believe the next cabin over is their stockpile of weapons. Do you think you can take any down?" she asks me.

Seeing as that I was half the size of every man here, I wasn't very confident on my odds. Amiri had only taught me the basics but it'd have to suffice. Giving her a shrug, I shake my head, "I guess we'll see," I answer. "Come on."

Turning around, we peek our heads out of the wooden door, checking if the coast is clear. The slavers focus is still aim towards the fighting and I frown, worried how Crispin and Amiri are faring. Knowing that I can't dwell on those thoughts, my eyes shift to the last cabin to the far right and I see a large axe leaning against the frame of the door.

"Let's hope that's their weapons cache," I whisper. If it was, perhaps we could somehow get weapons to Crispin and Amiri if they are able to still fight. If not, well, we'd have to think of a backup plan.

Not wanting to waste another second, we crouch down and begin to quickly make our way to the other building. About halfway through my thighs begin to burn from the awkward position but I press on, soon making it to the door. Laria all but shoves me through and I stumble before catching myself. She either doesn't know her own strength, did not want to risk being seen, or a combination of both.

A small lantern illuminates the large room in a dim glow, casting obscure shadows on the wooden walls. I'm relieved to see that stockpiles of weapons are scattered everywhere, some on their proper racks while others lay carelessly on the floor. Laria wastes no time and begins to strap a sword around her waist, another over her shoulder, and grips another in her hand. I want to question why, but assume that she has swiped them for our counterparts.

Turning away, I pick up a claymore and feel its weight in my hands. It's slightly heavier than what I'm used to but it will have to suffice. I then swipe a dagger up and find its holster, strapping it around my waist and slipping the deadly blade inside. I still feel the need to grab more weapons or armor, but everything is either too heavy for me or to large. Laria on the other hand takes advantage of her size and fits herself with a leather breastplate, her fingers tightening the straps effortlessly.

When she's done, she strings a bow and grabs a handful of arrows before turning to me. "Here's the plan," she begins, "I'll sneak out first and head around the far end towards the boys. You take the bow and shoot as many as you can—I'm hoping it'll draw attention away from us. That way I can come in and give them weapons. As soon as I can I'll come up from the rear to lend aid, you just have to last long enough. Think you can do that?"

It was a long shot in the dark for it to work, but what choice did I have? I have only shot a bow and arrow a handful of times, and that was when I was younger with my father. Still, I put on a brave face and give her a nod, taking the bow when she hands it to me. The wood of the riser is smooth in my hand and I wonder if I will even be strong enough to pull back the string.

"Count to twenty before you shoot," she instructs, her blue eyes alive with adrenaline. She then pulls me into a swift hug and kisses the top of my head before slipping out of the door, making a hard right and disappearing into the darkness.

"One...two..." I begin to count, my veins course with an alarming combination of terror and anticipation.

"Nine...Ten..."

If I am to die tonight, then so be it. I'd rather die for those that I love than rotting away in some prison cell or being a slave, working until I am nothing but skin and bone. At least my final moments will account for something.