Page 25 of The King's Bodyguard
Rilla, thank the gods, kept her head. Pushing Marin harder, she followed behind me, shouting suggestions. Something about cutting the saddle off. What? Without a saddle, I was sure to take a tumble. Behind her, racing down the crest of the hill, I caught sight of Corrin on a dark bay horse, trying to catch up as well.
Rilla and I were now plunging into the thickening mist. I couldn’t see more than a few paces around me. As the trees clustered together closely, I was forced to bow my head and cover my face with my arm in a bid to protect myself from the oncoming rough brush of branches. I could no longer attempt to guide Sanson in any way. I just hung on and hoped that he would tire out at some point.
Where are Rilla and Corrin?I had no clue. Marin tried his best, but Rilla, unfamiliar with the forest and riding a less powerful horse, struggled to keep up. Gritting my teeth, I clung to Sanson’s back.Cut off the saddle. That was what she had said.
My fingers flew to my belt, where my small hunting knife hung. Pulling my feet out of the stirrups, I clutched at Sanson’s mane with one hand while leaning down to slice the girth strap. Within seconds, the saddle flew off. We were now alone, careening through the mist. Sanson wasn’t slowing down. Sanson kicked and bucked, tossing the saddle cloth beneath off as well.
I immediately saw the problem. Before I could do anything, Sanson came to a screeching halt, throwing me over his head. Instantly, I tucked and rolled. The ground rose up to meet me. As I hit the rough soil, heather, and sparse grass, air whooshed out of my chest. I couldn’t breathe. Black dots danced before my eyes. I wondered if anyone would notice what I saw—the thistles that had been shoved onto Sanson’s back beneath the saddle cloth.
I blacked out.
Chapter 12
Corrin
Landis. Gods... Landis. What were you thinking?
Growling to myself, I dug my heels into my horse and pushed it forward at breakneck speed. Somewhere, I could hear the princess calling for Landis in the mist. Judging by the fading sound of her voice, she was moving further away. I did not pursue her. Princess Erellia had been raised to take care of herself, regardless of what her parents thought. Besides, as princess of Esteria, she was protected by her connections. It was Landis I was concerned about.
Landis had chosen that brute, no doubt out of misplaced concern, pride, or political obligation. When I found him, I would have a word or two about his choices. When I found him.I will find him, I repeated to myself.I will.
Muffled by the mist that had now thickened to a soupy fog, I could hear the distant clatter of a horse. My ears swiveled, tracking the sound. All of my senses were on high alert. Heavier hoof beats than the princess’s mount. Sanson. I found a saddlecast off. Then a saddle cloth, hanging from a scraggly bush. What was Landis doing?
I slowed down and began to take note of my surroundings. The trees were beginning to part a little. As I passed by, though, I caught a glimpse of a broken branch here, a trampled bush there. Half-hanging off my saddle, I scanned the soft, dark soil underneath. There—a glimpse of a hoof print. The spacing between the tracks suggested high speed, but then I noticed a set more closely imprinted together.
Sanson had come to a stop.Has Landis gained control?As I considered the possibilities, I heard something else, the crack of a branch underfoot. There was a muffled nicker of another horse in the fog.Someone else is out there, I realized with a shiver.Someone not calling for help. Someone trying to move stealthily. Not Landis.
Slipping off silently, I lashed my horse to a tree and moved forward, bent over. Slipping through the mist like a dark shadow, I skirted a massive oak to find another horse standing alone. I crept forward. All the hairs on my neck rose as I noticed a dark-cloaked figure stalking slowly through the heather. With two knives.
The unknown predator spotted the glimpse of gold among the scrub just as I did. Landis, lying half-sprawled on his side, was not moving. My sharp eyes noticed Landis’s hand lying lax upon the dirt.Unconscious. Dead?
Just the thought of it sent fire through my blood. I saw my blade kissing the assassin’s throat, ripping it to shreds. My hands curled into claws as I sprang forward. The first blow of my fist slammed into the hunter’s lower back and sent him sprawling with a pained yelp. I followed it up with a jarring slam of my boot’s heel to the back of his head.
Flipping the assassin over, I pulled off the hood, revealing a dark-skinned catkin with graying hair and a short beard, nowstained with blood about the lips. It took everything in me to not finish the assassin off. Instead, I ran back to the horse, cut the leather reins of the horse off, and used them to tie the assassin’s wrists together and then bound them to his feet.
Once I was certain the would-be assassin was secured, I raced to Landis’s side. I gently ran my hands over his still-warm cheek. My fingers traced the line of his neck, finding the steady thrum of his heartbeat.
Thank the gods. He’s alive.Somehow managing to bite back a sob, I drew in a deep breath. I gently ran a hand along the back of his neck. There was no sign of neck injury.
Bending close, I noticed that Landis looked like he was sleeping. It made him appear even smaller and more vulnerable than usual. I brushed a stray golden lock away from his cheek. Just seeing him there, safe, made waking up earlier than usual all that more worth it. If I hadn’t decided to get up early, if I hadn’t arrived when I did, if I hadn’t been mounted... Landis’s end might have come sooner than I would have liked.
Carefully rolling him onto his back, I laid my head on his chest. His heart still beat regularly. I checked him carefully from head to foot. No broken bones, but he had sustained a fair share of brushes from his tumble. Heaving another sigh of relief, I considered my options. I needed to get Landis to safety, but I also wanted to ensure that the assassin would be delivered into Lord Elthorne or Gareth’s capable hands. After capturing him alive, it would be a shame if he were to die on the way to the castle—or escape.
“Landis?! Corrin?!”
It was Hugh. Shouting back at him, I managed to guide the knight to my side. At the sight of Landis lying at my feet, Hugh’s face paled. A hand rose to cover his mouth as horror filled his golden-brown eyes.
“He’s alright, Hugh,” I hastily assured him. “Breathing. His heartbeat is strong. Took a tumble is all. Probably had the wind knocked out of him.”
“Oh, oh,” Hugh heaved a sigh that almost sounded like a half-sob of relief. “Thank the gods. For a moment...”
I clapped him on the arms.
“I’ll ride back with him,” I said. “Or at least... somewhere where he can rest.”
“There’s a lodge over the ridge. A private one. His father...” Hugh shook his head. “Never mind that.”
“I’d take him in a heartbeat, but there is another matter to attend to. Whoever he is, he was about to kill the king, but I ambushed him and captured him.” I pointed at the motionless figure lying face down, still trussed like a pheasant. “Alive.”
