“... can't leave... Josselyn... needs me...”
“My eldest is watching over the girl, don't worry. I'll go back for her as soon as I've seen to your wound.”
He would have to trust these people, then, as he lacked the strength to protest, much less stand and fight. With any luck, they would be harmless travelers, without any connection to the invading prince. They may even be able to help them.
Then again, they may just take them straight back to the castle.
“Papa! What happened? Who's this?”
His thoughts were interrupted by yet another new voice, this one decidedly feminine with its lilting, almost musical tone.
“Dahlia came across him by the stream, had a girl with him, unconscious. He all but passed out himself, got a nasty looking shoulder wound. Think you can patch him up?”
“I'll do what I can. Can you wake up Violet and Rosemary? I'll need their help.”
The man grunted his assent, heavy footsteps moving away as gentle fingers carefully peeled back the fabric of Alex's shirt. He let out a hiss of pain as the sticky cloth pulled at his wound.
“Sorry about that.” The girl, or woman, Alex couldn't be sure, made a tsking noise. “That's a nasty cut you've got there. Were you stabbed?”
“...sword...”
“Ah, well, that would do it. It's hard to tell with all the blood, but the cut looks fairly clean. As soon as my sisters join us, I'll get you stitched up. Hang in there.”
He forced his eyes open, squinting up at the face that hovered over his own. Blue eyes blinked back at him. The girl's face came into focus, pale skin surrounded by a halo of golden blonde hair that made the blue of her eyes almost too startling in their brightness. He cringed as he noticed how young she looked, fourteen, maybe fifteen years old at the most. Her lips curved up into a reassuring smile, as if she could read his thoughts.
“I've sewn wounds up before, don't worry. I'm quite steady.” She turned her head to the side. “Here comes Violet now, she'll help prepare the wound.”
A young woman with straight, brown hair and tan skin appeared over the girl's shoulder, holding a pot with a towel draped over her arm.
“I brought hot water water to cleanse the wound. Rosemary is digging up the sewing supplies.” She wrinkled her nose as she studied his shoulder. “I'm glad you're going to do the sewing, that looks ghastly.” She shuddered and handed the pot to the younger woman, taking a small step back when she was done.
“Lily isn't a bit squeamish, are you, Lil?”
The sound of yet another female voice was added to the mix, as a third young woman joined them, holding a small box. Her hair was a dark brown, falling in thick waves over her shoulders, and she shared the same tan skin and dark eyes as the other two girls had. The girl they referred to as Lily stood in sharp contrast with the others.
Pain seared through Alex's shoulder, and he bit back a cry as Lily began dabbing at his wounds with the wet towel, cleaning away the dried blood and dirt.
The other two girls winced in sympathy, but Lily remained expressionless as she focused on her task.
“Papa went back to fetch Dahlia and the girl. They should be back soon.” Violet gave Alex a look. “When you're able, you'll have to explain how exactly you ended up out here with a gaping wound and a half-dressed, unconscious woman.”
“It does seem a bit... curious,” Rosemary added, settling onto the ground beside him. “Are you a valiant hero? Or a dastardly villain?” Her eyes trailed down his naked torso before slowly working their way back to his face. Her mouth curved into a flirtatious smile. “Personally, I'm not sure which I'd prefer.”
“Really, Rose? You'd even flirt with a half dead lunatic covered in blood?” Violet glanced down at Alex. “No offense.”
He ignored them both, squeezing his eyes shut against the pain as Lily began pulling a sharp needle through his already aching skin. She worked quickly and with efficiency, tying off the end of the thread in a matter of moments.
“Now what you need is some rest, I think. We'll tend to your lady, as well, don't worry.”
His eyes widened and he pushed himself into a sitting position, despite her protests. “We can't stay here... it's too dangerous.”
“And why is that?”
Alex looked around, spotting the owner of the gruff voice seated beside a small fire. He was an older man of about sixty years but still hearty and strong, considering the ease in which he'd lifted Alex's none-too-small frame. A blanket covered a figure laying on the ground beside him, and Alex could only hope it was Josselyn.
But what to tell them? Could he trust them with the truth? They had treated his wound. He doubted any of the prince's people would have bothered.
“The girl I was with, is that her beside you?”
The man glanced down, then shifted out of the way so that Alex could see Josselyn's face.
“Who is she?”
“ She is Princess Josselyn deLure of Eldour, and I'm Alex Grey, her guard.” He watched the man's face, but aside from a faint flicker of surprise at Josselyn's name, it remained impassive. “Her father, King Frederic, was murdered, and Eldon has been taken over by the Antoski.”
His gaze shifted back to Josselyn.
“We managed to escape, though not easily, as you can see. We need to get as far away from the castle as possible. Prince Stefan will undoubtedly send men after us.”
“Won't get too far in your condition, especially on foot.”
Alex grimaced. “I know.” Meeting the man's eyes, he added, “I realize you don't know us, nor I you, and it's a lot to ask of anyone, but we could use your help, if you're willing.”
There was a long pause as the man stared back at him, his face inscrutable. Alex felt his shoulders slumping in defeat, when the older man finally responded, his words slow and measured.
“You're right, that is a lot to ask. If what you say is true, then anyone caught protecting the princess will probably be killed. And as you can
