Leith
Caelen and I have spent the better part of the day galloping to his birthplace of Tunder.
I’m atop Star and riding at a breakneck pace. Moon horses, being the masochists that they are, always want to go faster. We had to fight with them twice just to convince them to rest and drink from a creek.
Maeve insisted on going to the castle, despite my arguments to stay at the cottage. The blood oath she swore to help me win in the arena compelled her to learn what she could of the upcoming matches.
It’s a miracle I wasn’t called back to fight this morning.
My hands curl at the memory of waking before dawn, Maeve’s lush body pressed against mine, her dark hair fanned out around us. Her blue eyes were so bright and wondrous as they gazed up at me. And later, as the sun rose and we waited for news of a match to be carried to the manor, for the banners to rise above the arena, declaring the odds and who would be fighting for the day…there were a few painful moments when she clung to me, her head on my chest and her arms wrapped tight around me.
It’s been a long time since someone’s cared about what would become of me.
“We’re almost there,” Caelen mumbles.
“You’re certain we can secure this crew?” He claims he knows someone who can help my family escape Siertos.
Caelen’s face remains stoic, and his braids shift along his back as he pivots on his saddle. “No. I’m not certain of anything. But we must try, and this is the only way.”
Vitor knows about my family. He could harm them to get to me. I must get them out. Hide them someplace safe.
I adjust my hold on the reins. Like Caelen, I rise and lower, leaning forward and back on the saddle, pretending that Star isn’t doing all the work.
I catch Caelen’s smirk. “Something funny, elf?” I ask over the pounding melody of hooves.
He grins, an expression I’ve rarely seen on this soldier. “No. But it would have been if your horse hadn’t kept your ass in that saddle, gladiator.”
“It’s too late in the game to develop a personality,” I retort, forcing my features to still when Star skids along a sharp curve and all but kills us both.
Caelen shoots out his hand, careening to a halt, a cue that Star follows abruptly. The splatter of mud that accompanies our stop barely finishes hitting the dense grass before Caelen’s head cranes to the far right. “Take off your cape,” he says quickly. “We’re nearly to the border.”
My pause is brief as he removes his military robe of green and blue and throws it to me, unveiling his uniform in the same colors beneath. The colors of Arrow. No, of House Iamond, Maeve’s family.
“Drape it over your clothes and pull down the hood,” Caelen tells me.
I do as he says as he positions himself beside me. His horse and Star chuff and stomp their hooves, eager to resume their run. It takes Caelen stiffening for the horses to pick up on his unease and settle.
I follow his gaze to the south as small drops of rain splatter against my nose. The rain clouds move in the direction he’s watching. The storm is moving quickly, though, with clear skies across the whole eastern horizon.
It’s then I see a band of people break through a distant stand of trees and run across the field, headed in the direction we rode through. A giant—bigger than Luther, from what I can tell from my position—forces his short legs forward with a baby strapped to his back. The human men ahead of him are faster, as are the ogren women lifting their skirts as they sprint ahead, screaming.
A literal army chases them on horseback, four surrounding the giant and his child first before he’s able to return to the trees. More soldiers appear in the direction the others are running, their bows and arrows aimed at the migrants. The migrants—for surely that’s what they are—skid to a halt, many of them falling onto the damp grass before they rise with their hands up.
A scout in a muted uniform of Arrow’s green and blue leads her horse toward the large group, pausing when she notices us. Caelen acknowledges her with a tilt of his chin. I follow suit, but it’s only when the scout returns the motion that I think we’re clear.
“They almost made it,” Caelen mutters. He turns his horse away and toward the stand of trees they emerged from. “Let’s go while they’re occupied.”
I urge Star to follow, but like me, she isn’t keen on leaving just yet. The soldiers round up the migrants. To the west, a troll rides a wagon similar to the one used to escort the gladiators to the arena. Hell if I don’t know where they’re headed.
My scowl fixes on Caelen. “Is this what my family is in for?”
I’ve never known Caelen to sugarcoat a damn thing. And he doesn’t start now. “Yes,” he says. He shakes his head when I curse. “I never said it was easy, but if anyone can get them through, Xavier will. Come. It’s just through here,” he says.
Star hesitates because I do. “You can’t help them,” Caelen says, speaking through his teeth. “But you can help your family, and that’s what we’ve come to do.”
He’s right, and I fucking hate him for it. Without another glance back, Caelen stirs his horse into a canter and then a gallop.
Star and I don’t take long to catch them.