He spurred Vesper, knowing full well doing so would reveal his presence to the men chasing Mariel.Whythey were chasing her and why she was visiting Banner, those were questions for another time, though he wondered if he’d ever get the answers.
There’d been no time to strategize with Samuel about what should happen if he caught up to the other two, but he had to trust his friend would know what to do.
Erran’s mind and heart were a labyrinth of confusion, but he was certain of one thing.
He couldn’t let those men catch up to Mariel, no matter what she’d done.
Just ahead, Mariel kicked up a whirl of dust as she made a sharp turn onto a path, which led up into the milky sea cliffs that stretched to a peak above the sea.
Other than a couple of mines scattered along the coastline, there was nothing up there but land, for miles.
“What are you doing, Mariel?” he murmured. Warm wind battered his face as he closed the gap with the guards. Her horse wasn’t built for such a hard ride and was struggling up the hill. The menwouldcatch up, and soon. He had to stop them—or slow them. But how?
A diversion would do nothing. They’d followed her for almost a full half hour from Sandycove at breakneck speed to catch her. He didn’t think he could outrun them either, even though he got closer, the best he could do was match their pace. He couldn’t push Vesper much harder without harming her.
Erran nearly laughed as a preposterous idea leaped into his thoughts. He hadn’t traveled to Sandymount with much in his tack bag, but hehadbrought apples, for the horse. When they were boys, Khallum used to challenge them all to feats of strength, and one had been to see who could hurl something the farthest into the sea. Erran won almost every time, at throwing and nearly everything else they did. He might be known as the “prettiest” of the bunch, and his accent might not be as leathered as Khallum’s or Hamish’s, but he’d always been the most adept at any sport they engaged in.
He’d never thrown anything while riding a horse to the brink of her limits, but it was the only idea he had.
Erran wrapped his left hand tight in the reins to stabilize himself as he fumbled the other, searching for the clasp on his bag. He couldn’t get it unbuckled with all the jostling, so he tugged hard, grunting through his teeth as he ripped the buckle clear off. A couple of apples spilled out and disappeared on the road behind him.
He made a fist over an apple. Killing either of the men was the last thing he intended, so he couldn’t aim for their heads. But no matter where he aimed, it would land where it landed. The ride was too unsteady to guarantee accuracy.
It’s them or her.
Erran had no damn reason to show her any loyalty when she’d offered him only misery, but still he cocked his arm back and held it in place a moment to count the space between Vesper’s hooves striking earth, as he’d heard the great Riders of the Rush did when battling on horseback. If he timed it right... No, therewasn’ttime. That was the problem.
He whispered a silent prayer to the Guardian of the Unpromised Future and launched the apple. It struck one of the men right between the shoulders, and the shock of it sent him toppling off his horse, which rode on without him.
The other guard pulled to a stop, clearly confused about what had just happened, but it was enough hesitation for Erran to break away and surpass them. He rode by, pushing the horse one last time as they climbed another embankment.
When he crested the hill, he spotted Mariel ahead, but she was no longer mounted. She kissed the horse’s snout and gave her a pat, releasing her. When she turned back toward the sea, her eyes locked on Erran, widening. Her expression froze that way as she butted up to the cliff’s edge.
“No!” Erran cried, dismounting before he’d commanded Vesper to stop. He landed in a painful roll before springing back to his feet and running the rest of the way. “Mariel, no!”
“What are...” Her face, pale from the shock, whipped between him and the sea. “Why are you here? How did you—” She held out her arms. “Doesn’t matter. I...” Breathless, she bounded away from the precipice, then launched into a sprint that sent her hurtling over the cliff’s edge, her legs scissoring the air as she disappeared into the abyss of sea and sky.
Erran’s heart stopped beating altogether for a moment. He raced to the cliff to confirm his fear, that she’d thrown herself to her death on the rocks below, but she popped up from the water and swam against the tide, headed out to sea. In the distance he spotted a ship, anchored in place, and a fresh fear emerged as he wondered if she was planning to go for it, if she was even a strong enough swimmer to make it that far. Lake rats weren’t used to the rough and capricious sea like coastal dwellers were.
The guard he hadn’t pegged with the apple came up and over the hill, red-faced and screaming unintelligible curses and warnings.
All it would take was to explain to them who he was. The son of the most revered steward in the Southerlands. The best mate of the lord of the Northerlands. The heir to the largest admiralty in the realm.
But revealing himself would ensure the events of the day made it straight to his father’s ears. There was no story that would justify him chasing Mariel across the Reach, of her visiting Banner, of him knocking a guard senseless to protect whatever she’d done. The admiralty, everything he’d ever worked for or cared about, would be taken away, and he’d be left with nothing but his shame.
Erran looked once more at the approaching guard, swallowing an enormous lump of dread.
There wasn’t time to think of an alternative.
He had two choices, both terrible.
For the admiralty.
Erran held his breath, reared back to gain speed, and dived in after her.
Wrecked
Chapter6