She did want to follow in her mother’s footsteps. She knew everything her mother did and would be a healer herself if it wasn’t for the episodes excluding her from getting a license. The book would be useful. Living on the run meant that she might need to get creative if someone got hurt.
She wrapped her arms around her mother and felt herself losing control, wanting to say that she wasn’t going, but this farewell was better than the one that would happen in a few months. At least now she would be leaving willingly. They parted, and without speaking walked out the back door. The air outside was cold, with a bite that only came in the early hours of the morning. Legon and her father were finishing up with the horses. Both were already saddled and had most of their meager belongings attached to them. The family owned a horse for each person. Legon’s black stallion was named Phantom and was a little on the older side, but still a great horse. Murray, Sasha’s horse, was brown and about five. She loved him, although he tended to bite.
Legon walked up to his mother and hugged her and his father went to Sasha. She loved getting bear hugs from her father. She felt safe and secure, and she got the feeling like nothing bad could ever happen. Then he let go and the feeling left. The goodbyes were short; they had to be. They needed to meet Kovos, needed to get out of town before they could be followed. She got on Murray and looked at her home and parents for what was probably the last time. As if Phantom and Murray knew what was going on, the two started to carry them away from the house, their home, and everything they had ever known.
Kovos had known this was going to happen. He knew that as soon as they got home this new-found intellect was going to leave Keither. The boy had gone into panic mode about two seconds after the door closed. Thankfully, his parents hadn’t lost their heads by the time they got home. Brack had the horses saddled and Margaret was finishing packing their belongings. Kovos wasted no time in making a beeline for his room and grabbing his sword. “I am such a moron for not having it with me,” he thought. He reached under a loose floorboard and pulled out the brass knuckles he had made about three years ago. Boy, had they been useful.
If they got a good head start on the soldiers, there was a good chance of getting away for now. There might be wanted signs on city bulletins eventually, but it was unlikely. Their encounter with the men had been short, and it was unlikely they would remember enough to make a good illustration. Even then it was improbable that the empire would do that much. Wanted posters meant attention, and even if posters went up, the empire was a large place to hide in and its agents were corrupt. A small amount of coin could buy their way anywhere. Of course they would need money for that. At any rate, he didn’t have time to figure that out now. Time was running out.
Keither needed to get his head on and get ready to go. There was a slam in the room next to him. Keither had probably tried to lock himself in his room. Kovos didn’t have the patience for this, but convincing Keither was going to take some time. He started to the boy’s room. As he left his room and turned, he saw his mother looking put out and pounding on Keither’s door.
He gently moved her aside and placed his mouth close to the door, speaking in a soft voice. “Keither it’s me. Are you there? I know you’ve had a hard day.”
“Yeah, I’m here, and no, I won’t open the door!” barked the voice inside.
“Ok. I’m not going to ask you to open the door, but I want to talk to you, ok? Where are you?”
“On my bed, and I don’t want to tal…” Keither started but was stopped by the sound of splintering wood and his mother’s yelp.
Kovos walked through the devastated door and looked down imperiously at the boy on the bed. He had been pampering the little snot his whole life, and he was done. It was time to be a man.
He felt the muscles in his face contorting and he knew that he looked terrifying. “Do you remember what happened to Moleth?” he roared.
He thought he saw Keither nod but wasn’t sure. “Do you want your throat slit?” There was a definite shake this time. “Then get your stuff together. We’re leaving. Now! If you don’t have the will to live I can’t make you, but so help me I will spare our parents the displeasure of having one of their own kids slaughtered before their eyes, you get me?”
Keither was starting to resemble a puppet with its head bobbling around. He was in line now and that was all that mattered. As for the door, well, no one would be needing the room anytime soon, and better to break down a door and have Keither alive than have the royal guard break down the door and have him dead.
He tried to push emotion out as he walked downstairs in to the overly pink living room. He noticed a lace cloth in the middle of the table. There were birds stitched on it. He paused. He had never noticed that before. “Why do you notice odd things like that when you’re in a stressful situation?” he asked himself. “Because you never know when you may see it again,” said a voice in his head.
He walked out the back door. It was time to go. There were two horses in the alleyway that Brack was finishing up.
Emma. He needed to see her, needed to hold her.
“No!” he thought. Time was blurry now. He didn’t seem to notice the farewells and the tears, didn’t notice himself get on his horse. The only thing that floated though his mind was Emma and the knowledge that he would never see her again.
Arkin wondered why things took so long when he was in a hurry. He paused and repeated a calming script in his mind, controlled his breath, and felt emotion ebb away. He closed his eyes and repeated the script again. As he calmed, clarity began to restore itself in his battered consciousness. Not too much longer. Just the climb back down and then they could proceed on with the mission.
Legon was vaguely aware that he was freezing cold, but his body and mind didn’t seem to be talking with each other. Kovos and Keither were approaching. He could see them coming along the archery field. Phantom snorted and he patted his neck. Legon knew the horses could sense the panic in their riders, but he knew they would keep their cool. Well, at least Phantom would. He’d taken him hunting many times and nothing seemed to bother him. Murray, on the hand, wasn’t used to any extreme riding and might be a problem.
Kovos and Keither were near to them now. “Are you ready?” Legon asked.
Kovos patted the sword on his belt. “Yeah.”
Legon pointed to the trees. “Ok, we’ll travel along the edge of the woods until we’re out of sight and ear shot. Then we need to ride at least until tomorrow night to make sure we get as much space between us and those guards as possible.”
“How will we know which path to take? It’s dark as hell out here.”
Sasha spoke. “Horses have better eyes than people. They can see fine, don’t worry.” She turned Murray and began riding toward the forest. The other three followed close behind.
As hoped, the horses were able to make it through the dark woods without incident, but it was slow going. They had to curve out away from the where the soldiers were camped out. By the time they made it back to the road there were rays of sun coming over the distant mountains.
They kept the horses going at a pretty good speed after that without tiring them out. They needed to open a gap between them and the town. As the sun got brighter, Legon felt himself getting hungry, but he ignored the feeling. One day without food wouldn’t hurt him. They could only stop to let the horses drink, and even then it would have to be fast. There was a silence over them as they went. No one wanted to say anything. There was too much tension in the air and with every word came the chance of emotional upheaval from the previous day and night.
Legon’s face was starting to burn as the sun peaked around noon. Sweat rolled down his brow, causing the dust in the air to stick to him and cover his face in grit. As the sun started its descent it began to burn his neck. He lifted his shirt collar a bit.
The air was still and quiet except for the sound of hooves clopping on the ground. The rhythm was hypnotizing. His mind started to get fuzzy. His vision slipped in and out of focus. He started to become aware of all the sounds in the woods, sounds that he couldn’t normally hear on horseback-the sound of the breeze in the tree tops, the sound of a bug crawling on a log. All the sounds must have been from yards away. “This is the Elven side,” he thought. The soft whoosh of a bird taking flight, the creak of wood…Ah, he loved that sound, the creak only a bow could make as it was strung.
He snapped back to awareness in an instant, tightening his reins, bringing Phantom to an abrupt halt.
“Legon, what is it?” Sasha started, but was interrupted by a sound that all could hear-the sound of hooves
