Page 19 of The Prince's Captive

He just shook his head and moved to dismount. Before she could even try to get down herself, he had his hands on her waist and was pulling her down. His palm pressed against the scar beneath her peplos, and she disliked how he’d somehow managed to find it without sight. He didn’t hand her off to someone else, but instead took it upon himself to give her more food and water and ensured she could take care of her other necessities with just enough privacy while not giving her the chance to run off.

She saw his hands move and when she couldn’t see the obvious effect of whatever he’d done, she could only assume it was some kind of illusion disguising some measure to keep her from running off. Once he was gone and she was left alone, she stretched a hand out and was met with an invisible wall. She ripped her hand back. So she wouldn’t be escaping this way.

Once the break was over, she was thrown back on top of his horse and they set off again for the afternoon. Marcella tried to keep her eyes out for anything she might be able to use as a landmark to help her make her way back to Desero’s lands if she did escape, but the forest just flew by. So she returned to her prayers.

The sun hung low in the sky, close to beginning to fully set when they reached a camp being set up by the Inimicus that had rode ahead that morning. This time, when Commander Gavril pulled her down, he led her over to a log beside the firepit some of his men were setting up. He sat her down on it and said, “Stay? No trouble.”

Her Desero blood told her she ought to give him as much trouble as she could, but the soldier in her told her if she stayed put and quiet she could observe much better from there than anywhere else.

So she gave him a short nod and resisted the urge to lash out when it earned her a small smile from him.

She hated doing anything to make him happy, but she was short on time and needed options. If she didn’t escape before they made it to the Inimicus capital, there was going to be no escape, whether they believed she was Hypatia or not.

If she even had that long.

As they finished setting up their camp, Marcella studied the layout. At first glance, it did appear to be similar to the one they’d had the night before. But without the larger tents. The sun peeking out between the gray clouds and forest was painting everything in a warm golden glow when another group of Inimicus arrived with the older commander. A rear guard.

With a group riding ahead and a group riding behind, her best chance of escape was definitely going to be at night where they were all in one location and wouldn’t have the chance to scoop her up again.

She watched them set the trunk the Heart was in on the ground. Commander Gavril walked up to the two Inimicus dealing with it. It was hard with all the voices talking to each other and over each other as they set up camp, but she focused on the one that was most familiar to her and did her best to translate in her head.

“—understand why—with—clan—” Commander Gavril said.

One of the Inimicus opened the trunk, and Marcella sat up straighter, trying to peek at the glow of the Heart from the corner of her eye.

If she was blessed enough to escape, she needed to escape with the Heart. Maybe that was why she was there. So she could rescue the Heart from Inimicus and herself and deliver it to the High Priest.

An act like that would be a clear sign of favor from Asentai and the only way Marcella could earn any higher standing in her clan other than through marriage.

Commander Gavril peered into the trunk at it while one of the Inimicus said something so quickly Marcella couldn’t catch a single word. But from what she had gathered from the commander’s few words, they didn’t seem to know what the golden crystal’s value was.

Commander Gavril looked up and over his shoulder back at her, and Marcella hoped she’d looked away in time for him not to notice she’d been watching him. Instead, she pretended she was looking at the canopy above.

“—someone here—would know—not—enough to study—a rock—vitae—single rune—”

Marcella either couldn’t make out his other words clearly or just didn’t know what they meant as she kept pretending like she was looking at the forest while she studied the guards patrolling the perimeter. She could feel the commander’s eyes on her.

Rock. They thought it was just a rock. Well, a strange rock that had vitae in it.

Actually… that was good. They had no idea what they had so they wouldn’t realize its significance. They had no idea they did have something that was even more valuable than Hypatia herself.

That would help Marcella in escaping with it.

He moved out of earshot and she spotted him speaking with the older commander, so instead she focused on the voice closest to her and tried to piece together a few more words. After a while, she felt semi-confident that she now knew the words for fire, water, and tent. There was another word she heard them mutter often, usually when they were looking at her. But they weren’t just calling her Sordes or demon… it was…sordidus lupa.

It sounded like an insult.

The Inimicus that had tried capturing her first said it most often. He also often laughed when he said it.

She could see him gesture to her, where her wounds had been on her side and her ankle, then her mud-stained peplos as he spoke to the other Inimicus he was setting a tent up with. He made a gesture with his hand Marcella didn’t really understand and then laughed again.

“—sordidus lupa—healer—commander—command tent? And then—morning perfectly—obedient—all day?—fall over themselves—blame him—I would, but just because she’s alupa—healed—too soft.”

Marcella was too busy focusing on translating the words she did know that she didn’t realize she wasn’t the only one who overheard what he said until a voice ripped through the air.

Commander Gavril’s.

Chapter8

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