“It’s official, we’re dead,” Royce declared comically. “Interestingly enough, the first arrows hit Alric.”

The three of them were lying concealed in the tall field grass atop the eastern hill overlooking the river upstream of the ford. Less than a hundred yards to their right lay the Westfield road. From there, the road ran along the riverbank all the way to Roe, where the river joined the sea.

“Now do you believe me?” the prince asked.

“It only proves that someone is indeed trying to kill you and that they are not us. They’re not soldiers either, or at least they aren’t in uniform, so they could be anyone,” Royce told them.

“How can he see so much—the arrows, their clothing—I can only see movement and color from this distance?” Alric asked.

Hadrian shrugged.

The prince was now dressed in the clothes of the steward’s son: a loose-fitting gray tunic, worn and faded wool knee-length britches, brown stockings, and a tattered, stained wool cloak which was too long. On his feet, he wore a pair of shoes that were little more than soft leather bags tied at his ankles. Although no longer bound, Hadrian kept hold of a rope tethered around the prince’s waist. Hadrian also carried the prince’s sword for him.

“They’re moving in on the boat,” Royce announced.

All Hadrian could really see were shadowy movements under the trees until one of the men stepped out into the sunlight to grab the bow of the boat.

“It won’t be long before they discover they’ve only killed three bushels of thickets wrapped in old clothes,” Hadrian told Royce. “So I’d be quick.”

Royce nodded and promptly trotted down the slope toward the stock shelter.

“What’s he doing?” Alric asked in shock. “He’ll get himself killed and us as well!”

“That’s one opinion,” Hadrian said. “Just sit tight.”

Royce slipped into the shade of the trees, and Hadrian immediately lost sight of him. “Where’d he go?” the prince asked with a puzzled look on his face.

Once more Hadrian shrugged.

Below them, the men converged on the boat, and Hadrian heard a distant shout. He could not make out the words, but he saw someone holding up the Alric-bush complete with arrows. Two of the men remained with the boat while the others waded toward the bank. Just then, Hadrian caught sight of movement in the trees, a train of tethered horses trotting up the slope toward them. From the bank came shouts of alarm and cursing as the distant figures struggled to race across the field and up the hill.

When the horses drew nearer, he spotted Royce crouched down, hanging between the two foremost animals. Hadrian caught two of the horses, pulled the bridle off one, and quickly tied a lead line to the other horse’s halter. He ordered Alric to mount. Angry shouts erupted as the archers spotted them. Two or three stopped to fit arrows but their uphill shots fell short. Before they could close the distance, the three mounted and galloped toward the road.

Royce led them a mile northwest to where the Westfield and Stonemill roads intersected. Here Hadrian, and by default Alric, rode west. Royce, leading the train of captured horses, stayed behind to cloud their tracks and then rode north. An hour later Royce, with only the horse he rode, caught up with them. They turned off the road into an open field and headed away from the river, but still moved generally westward.

The horses had built up a solid sweat and were puffing for air. When they reached the hedgerow lands, they slowed their pace. Eventually they reached the thickets, and there they stopped and dismounted. Alric found a spot clear of thorn bushes and sat down fussing with his tunic, which did not hang on him quite right. Royce and Hadrian took the opportunity to search the animals. There were no markings, symbols, parchments, or emblems of any kind to identify the attackers. Moreover, except for a spare crossbow and a handful of bolts left on Hadrian’s mount, they wore only saddles.

“You’d think they would have some bread at least. Who travels without water?” Hadrian complained.

“They clearly didn’t expect to be out long.”

“Why do you still have me tethered?” the prince asked irritated. “This is extremely humiliating.”

“I don’t want you getting lost,” Hadrian replied with a grin.

“There’s no reason to drag me around any further. I accept that you did not kill my father. My cunning sister merely fooled you. It is quite understandable. She is very intelligent. She even fooled me. So, if you don’t mind, I would like to return to my castle so I can deal with her before she consolidates her power and has the whole army turned out to hunt me down. As for you two, you can go wherever Maribor dictates. I really don’t care.”

“But your sister said—” Hadrian began.

“My sister just tried to have us all killed back there, or weren’t you paying attention?”

“We have no proof it was her. If we let you return to Essendon, and she is right, you will be walking to your death.”

“And what proof do we have it wasn’t her? Do you still intend to escort me to wherever she told you to take me? Don’t you think she’ll have another trap waiting? I see my death far more probable on the road there than on any other road. Look, this is my life; I think it’s fair for me to decide. Besides, what do you care if I live or die? I was about to have you two tortured to death. Remember?”

“You know,” Royce paused a moment, “he’s got a point there.”

“We promised her,” Hadrian reminded him, “and she saved our lives. Let’s not forget that.”

Alric threw his hands up and rolled his eyes. “By Mar! You are thieves, aren’t you? It’s not as if you have a sense of honor to contend with. Besides, she was also the one who betrayed you and put your lives in danger in the first place. Let’s not forget that!”

Hadrian ignored the prince. “We don’t know she is responsible, and we did promise.”

“Another good deed?” Royce asked. “You’ll remember where the last one ended us?”

Hadrian sighed. “There it is! Didn’t have to save it too long, did you? Yes, I did screw up, but that isn’t to say I am wrong this time. Windermere is only, what, ten miles from here? We could be there by nightfall. We could stop at the abbey. Monks have to help wayward travelers. It’s in their doctrine or code or whatever. We could really use some food, don’t you think?”

“They also might know something about the prison,” Royce speculated.

“What prison?” Alric asked nervously getting to his feet.

“Gutaria Prison, it’s where your sister said to take you.”

“To lock me up?” the prince asked fearfully.

“No, no. She wants you to talk to someone there, some guy called…Esra…oh, what was it?”

“Haddon I think,” Hadrian said.

“Whatever. Do you know anything about this prison?”

“No, I’ve never heard of it,” Alric replied. “Although, it sounds like the kind of place unwanted royals go to disappear when a conniving sister steals her brother’s throne.”

His horse butted against his shoulder, and Royce rubbed its head while he contemplated the situation. “I’m too tired to think clearly. I don’t think any of us can make an intelligent decision at this point, and given the stakes, we don’t want to be hasty. We’ll go as far as the abbey at least. We’ll talk to them and see what they can tell us about the prison. Then we’ll decide what to do from there. Does that sound fair?”

Alric sighed heavily. “If I must go, can I at least be given the dignity of controlling my own horse?” There was a pause before he added, “I give you my word as king. I will not try to escape until we reach this abbey.”

Hadrian looked at Royce, who nodded. He then pulled the crossbow from behind his saddle. He braced it against the ground, pulled the string to the first notch, and loaded a bolt.

“It’s not that we don’t trust you,” Royce said as Hadrian prepared the bow. “It’s just that we’ve learned over the years that honor among nobles is usually inversely proportionate to their rank. As a result, we prefer to rely on more concrete methods for motivations—such as self-preservation. You already know we don’t want you dead, but if you have ever been riding full tilt and had a horse buckle under you, you understand that death is always a possibility, and broken bones are almost a certainty.”