“We were already on our way to the border,” Arrick explained.
Donivan and the army behind him held stony expressions, waiting for his decision. Arrick’s gaze briefly fell to mine before it returned to Donivan.
“Fine, yes, we will allow you to escort us to the border,” Arrick sighed as though it pained him.
“As I thought you would,” Donivan sneered. Arrick turned his horse around, but Donivan wasn’t finished. “And Westnovian?” Arrick turned back, giving him a sideways glance over his shoulder. “You shall not return.”
I thought I heard Arrick mumble something like, “Not as a Westnovian, anyway,” but I couldn’t be sure.
Once Arrick had his steed pointed in the correct direction again, he jerked his head for me to join him. I obeyed, not wanting to get caught up in the Tenovian unit behind me.
Arrick pushed forward until we were situated at the front of the rebel army where Gunter waited for us. Oliver rode on my left and Arrick on my right, Gunter on the other side of Arrick. I could feel the Tenovian soldiers pressing against us, anxious to get rid of us.
I wanted to explain to them what a mistake they were making. Arrick and his rebels had done so much good since I’d been with them.
But Arrick was right, we were headed toward the border anyway. It was useless to fight with them and delay our progress or lose lives.
“This ruins your cover of darkness plan,” Gunter grunted.
“Bloody hell,” Arrick groaned.
A second army waited in the distance, looming in Soravalian colors. Arrick’s entire army rumbled with outrage.
Three armies now occupied the highway. The Tenovian army behind us, escorting us to the border. The rebel army. And now the Soravalian army. Horses pranced and tossed their manes as their riders watched us approach.
“This was a trick!” Arrick called back at Donivan. His voice carried over the angry rebel army.
“You’re their problem now, marauder scum!” Donivan bellowed. “Do not try to seek refuge in Tenovia again. We want nothing of you or your filthy rebels!”
Arrick cursed and held out his hand to Gunter, who grasped it heartily. “I believe this is where we part ways.”
“We shall meet soon, friend,” Gunter laughed, low and dark. “But for now, enjoy your homeland.” He turned in his seat and shouted to his men. “Cavolia rides!”
Men broke off in every direction. The Soravalian army pushed against the border, swords readied, but useless from where they were forced to wait.
“Stop them!” Donivan shouted. Soldiers kicked their horses into motion and chaos broke loose.
Arrick brought two fingers to his mouth and let out a piercing whistle that could be heard over the chaos of the chase.
More men fled, rebels this time, bellowing whoops at the dim sky. Arrick’s men scattered as swiftly and randomly as Gunter’s Cavolian horde had. Arrick snatched the reins from my hand and kicked Finare into a gallop.
“Oliver!” I screamed as I held onto Finare’s mane for dear life.
“Behind you!” he shouted.
“Make sure it stays that way!” Arrick hollered. “Or they’ll make you pay for it!”
“Arrick!” I gasped as Finare jumped a wide root and landed with a rocking jolt.
“Hold on, Tessa,” he ordered. “And trust me.”
16
I held tightly onto Finare’s mane. My thighs squeezed firmly to the saddle as we jumped over roots and darted between towering cedars.
As we approached the Soravalian border, the black cedars weren’t quite so tall, nor quite as wide as they had once been. Still, the forest was a maze.
Arrick seemed to know it well, however. He held my reins tight in his hand, leading Finare through the tangle of branches and sharp turns.
I could hear dogs barking and men shouting. Arrick’s sharp curse echoed my fear. Soravale was known for its hunting dogs.
Arrick dug his heels into Thief’s belly and the steed pushed forward, faster, more determined.
I turned to see Oliver’s near collision with a low hanging branch. “Keep up, Monk!” I shouted at him.
He hollered something back that was decidedly not monk-like.
The hounds barked and bayed, their low growls biting at the distance between us. As far as I could tell we were straddling the Tenovian/Soravalian border. We weaved in and out of forestry but didn’t commit to either country.
The Tenovian army would know this land well. They would be ready for us if we moved too far south. And yet, Soravale waited to the north. Both royal houses wanted Arrick, and they would want me, if they discovered who I was.
But I was more concerned about Arrick at the moment than my own survival or the crown in my satchel. He needed to be able to continue helping the realm.
I wouldn’t let him be captured. After he had saved my life so many times, I would do the same for him.
The path made a series of sharp turns. The hounds sounded like they were right on our heels. Oliver shouted something behind us, but I couldn’t make it out over the pounding of hooves and the racing of my own heart.
Arrick glanced back at me, his expression filled with determination. He nodded once and I understood him. He would protect me, no matter the cost.
The forest opened up into a clearing. Even the canopy of leaves and branches thinned, allowing a shaft of sunlight to provide a brightness and warmth I’d been missing inside Tenovia. We burst into the clearing.
“Just through here,” Arrick barked. “Then we’ll be—”
Our horses drew up, nearly unseating me. Soravalian guards pushed through the edges of the clearing on all sides. We were surrounded.
Arrick whipped our horses around to go back the way we came, but hounds rushed through, barking and snapping at the air, closely followed by more riders. One of them held Oliver’s reins tightly in his hands, another one kept a sword pointed at Oliver’s back.
“Dragon’s blood,” I
