Page 33 of Seven Ways to Kill a King
“Cass.” Miri’s voice was a low hiss, her fingers tight on the reins.
He broke out of his ruminations to take in her expression of evident concern. She nodded toward the ground, where the tracks of three horses, two carrying a burden, marked the soft earth. They were fresh.
The horses slowed as Cass considered which route to take. They could risk meeting strangers in the wood or risk the less passable ground.
“We’ll head west,” he suggested. “Just off the trail that borders the ravine.”
Miri nodded, but when she began to turn her horse, both she and Cass stopped cold. A shout came from the distance, and as they watched, above the trees rose a pillar of smoke. Kingsmen.
Cass met Miri’s hard gaze. “It’s too damp. They’ll see our tracks,” he said. “Follow the trail, and we’ll split off over rock or water as soon as we can.”
Miri kicked her horse into a run without further instruction or a single response. She knew what would happen if they were caught and how lucky she truly was that they had escaped at all.
They rode at speed through the thickening trees, keeping their horses over the previous hoofprints to confuse the trail. They would need to find a clean escape. The kingsmen were far from poor at tracking, especially when they’d been given to hunting down sympathizers at every turn. The sun was falling low in the sky, and if they could only cross onto rocky ground before nightfall, they might have a chance.
“Ho!” A voice called from the trees, just before a burly man in a short cloak stepped into their path.
Miri shifted her shoulders, but whether she meant to go for her dagger or ride the man down, Cass couldn’t say. But she drew up short, her face flashing in some indiscernible emotion as she glanced back at Cass.
“It’s you!” The man’s arms went wide, and he gave a deep and barking laugh. “Well met, young friends.” It was Hugh, the trader from the inn.
Miri slowed her horse to a broken stop as Cass drew up beside her. “Well met.” She’d managed to sound as if the greeting was light and friendly, as if she and Cass had been on a playful run. But her gaze flicked to the trees, searching.
Hugh noticed. “Just out for a hunt,” he said, gesturing with a thumb over his shoulder. “Ginger’s got me gathering roots while she tends to the horses. Boss of a woman, she is.” His arms came to his waist as he smiled. “But don’t I love her.”
Hugh leaned to glance beyond Miri and Cass then straightened. “So do tell me, lad, how, at a pace like that, we’ve managed to get ahead of you.”
Miri’s gaze hit Cass, and Hugh chuckled, apparently mistaking the exchange. “Oh, but I do forget.” He waved a hand. “Forgive me, lass. I mean no insult. Ginger is always riding me for speaking the wrong thing.” He stepped closer, as if they’d moved to friendly conversation, though Miri and Cass had barely said a word. “Come, join us for supper. Let me make it up to you.”
Miri cleared her throat. “We appreciate that, Hugh, but we—”
“No,” Hugh said, “I know you’re newly wed and require your privacy, but Ginger will skin me alive if she finds out I came across you and let you go.” He nodded. “Absolutely. I insist.”
Miri glanced again at Cass, who had bitten down at least three responses. The kingsmen were looking for a group of two: a man and a maid. They would not be as obvious a target in a group, but they would be risking Ginger and Hugh, should it come to a fight. Miri seemed to recognize the reasoning in his answering gaze. Her eyes seemed to remind Cass that the fires behind them could happen to anyone in the woods, not just those who aided criminals.
“We don’t want to trouble you,” Miri said quietly, but the words were a concession. She’d decided to give in to Hugh and face the kingsmen should they come.
* * *
Hugh ledCass and Miri to their camp and an enthusiastic welcome from Ginger. She took the horses and shooed the guests off to a small stream nearby to wash for dinner.
“I’ll throw on extra fish. It’s no trouble at all,” she promised at Miri’s protestations, and soon enough, Cass and Miri were knelt beside the water, a shallow trickle that had swelled to something usable with the aid of the recent rains.
“We can leave now on foot,” Cass offered.
Miri frowned at him. “The more we run, the more others will suffer in our place.”
“Others will suffer regardless.”
Cass’s tone was hard, and he regretted it the moment he saw the recognition on Miri’s face. She’d been sheltered from much of the goings on in the kingdom by Nan and Thom. The news she did receive had been carefully filtered of details like torture for sport. Miri had seen enough of the kingsmen to know the truth of the matter, and she’d been raised by a woman who laid bare the faults of men, but she’d not realized the scope of the kingsmen’s exploits and the freedom they’d been given by their lords.
“So we should run?”
Miri’s words were soft, her fingers hidden in the folds of her cloak. Cass shook his head. “It wouldn’t matter. We bring no more risk to Hugh and Ginger than they are risking alone.” In fact, the four together held better odds, as the kingsmen preferred to cull the weak from the herd and catch stragglers alone and unaware. “Besides,” Cass said, “Hugh’s already spoken highly of treason.”
Miri smiled, but the tension didn’t leave her eyes. “There is quite a difference between talk over drinks and facing down an armed man.” Miri’s gaze lingered on Cass, and he forced himself to look away.
It was plain that neither had forgotten their earlier words. Every time they looked at one another, it held the reminder that they should not, and it was only made worse because they’d owned to knowing it was wrong. But Miri had also given him trust. She’d shared the details of her mother’s murder, finally, and the secret those details held was far worse than he suspected. There was little left to hide from or to protect. One king was dead, and the second would soon follow. By the end of summer, it would be the rest, or it would be Miri and Cass. If it was the latter, the hopes of the remaining queensguard would die with them.
