It all fit together and made perfect sense, but reasoning it out gave Aedan little satisfaction at this point, for it meant Michael almost surely had to die.
And if Michael’s death was a foregone conclusion, so was his. Well, Father, he thought, it seems I’ve learned how to consider possibilities, for all the good it’s done me. And I thought my worst worry would be Laera.
Several of the goblins dragged over a crude litter they had lashed together from pine boughs and branches. They harnessed it to two of the larger wolves, so that one end dragged upon the ground, and tied Michael to it. The goblin leader then rode over to Aedan.
“I perceive you are a noble’s son,” he said. “Therefore, you should be worth something, as you attend the prince. Well, you may continue to attend him, provided you do not slow us down. You are too big for the wolves to draw upon a litter, so you shall have to run. Keep up, and you shall live. But if you cannot keep pace. . . ” The goblin made a slashing motion across his throat.
Aedan gulped. “I shall do my best,” he said.
“We shall soon see if your best is good enough,” the goblin said with a sneer.
Aedan’s arms were tied behind him securely, and a rope was looped around his neck, the end held by a wolfrider who grinned at him maliciously, showing his pointed teeth.
“Let us go,” the goblin leader said. “Before long, these two shall be missed and a search party will be sent out. I intend to be deep in the Aelvinnwode by then.”
The wolfriders moved off, with Michael drawn on the fitter, bound and gagged securely. Aedan had to run to keep up and keep slack in the rope around his neck, which he soon realized had been tied with a slipknot.
If he allowed any tension, it would choke him. Unlike Michael, he had not been gagged. The goblins were not concerned about his calling out, since it was not likely anyone would hear. Besides, one jerk on the rope would cut off any cry he made, and they had Michael as a hostage for his silence. It occurred to him that Michael might have been spared his gag, as well, had he possessed the sense not to lose his temper with his captors and annoy them.
Aedan was amazed at Michael’s lack of fear, but then, the prince had never had any real reason to be afraid before. Perhaps his young mind simply did not grasp the danger, or the fact of his own mortality.
In any case, Aedan soon forgot all about Michael as his attention became occupied with trying to keep up with the wolfrider who held his rope.
The wolves were trotting through the thick forest at a good pace, but fortunately, they were not running all out, otherwise Aedan would never have been able to keep up with them. Clearly, the wolves drawing Michael’s litter could manage no more than a trot, for which ol Aedan was profoundly grateful. As it was, it wasn’t long before his lungs were burning and his legs aching and he was gasping for breath.
Several times, he faltered as he tripped over a rock or an exposed root, and the rope tightened around his neck. To his relief, he discovered that the slipknot was tied in such a manner that it would loosen once again after he got some slack back in the rope, but it still took some time before the tension eased and there were periods when he found himself struggling to draw breath while having to run harder to catch up and gain more slack. His entire world became simply putting one foot in front of the other and avoiding any obstacles that could trip him up and bring about disaster. It was sheer torture.
After a while, they stopped to rest, just when Aedan felt he couldn’t run another step. He had lost all track of time as he had tried desperately to keep pace. As they stopped, he fell gratefully to the ground, sobbing for breath. His clothes were drenched with sweat and his legs felt as if they were on fire. They still had a long way to go to reach Thurazor, which Aedan assumed must be their destination. He tried to recall his geography lessons. He seemed to remember that Thurazor was at least three or four days’ travel from Boeruine, through the Five Peaks region covered by the Aelvinnwode. He did not see how he could possibly last that long. He already felt completely worn out.
Still, he could not afford to think about his own exhaustion. His first duty was to the prince. Gasping for breath, he dragged himself to his knees and looked up at the wolfrider who held his rope.
“May I please see to the prince?” he asked hoarsely.
The goblin grunted and released the rope, jerking his head toward the litter. Aedan knew there was little reason for them to fear he would run away.
With his hands tied behind his back and exhausted as he was, he would not have gotten ten steps before the wolves brought him down. He struggled to his feet and made his way over to the litter, while the goblins sat cross-legged on the ground, munching on some sort of dried jerky they had taken from their bags. Aedan didn’t want to speculate on what sort of meat it was. He crouched beside the litter, then glanced at the goblin leader. He could not loosen Michael’s gag, since his own hands were tied. He knelt beside the litter.
“I am deeply sorry about this, my lord,” he said.
“If I had met you at
