by Vicky Savage
Unexpectedly, a man dressed in black armor steps into the roadway several yards ahead of our entourage and holds up a gloved hand. The captain in charge of the Royal Guard glances back at his men and raises his own hand, signaling our party to a halt.
“Close ranks,” he commands. The men immediately close in around Ryder, me, and the others, forming a tight knot of protection.
“Wagons,” the captain calls, two wagons pull up to reinforce our flanks, one remains behind. A nervous tension ruffles through our party. Even the horses snort and paw, sensing something’s up.
The captain turns to his second in charge. “See what he wants,” he orders.
The man breaks away, cantering toward the black knight. All eyes watch as he draws near the interloper. Out of nowhere, an arrow sings through the air, striking the Guardsman, and knocking him from his horse. Chaos explodes.
Shields are readied, swords are drawn, the captain barks furious commands to his men. Knights dressed in black, on foot and horseback, spill onto the road to our front and rear. “Wagons down,” the captain shouts. Guardsmen swiftly unhitch the teams and turn the wagons on their sides, providing an added measure of cover. Shields are raised to form a protective steel canopy as arrows ping and rebound and slice through the gaps.
Before I fathom what’s happening, one of the guards grasps Gabriel’s reins. “This way Princess,” he shouts, kneeing his horse and pulling Gabriel and me along with him. Several more guards and Ryder follow us off the road and into the trees.
The sounds of battle echo behind us, and the thud of horses’ hooves tells me we’re being pursued. The guard holding Gabriel’s reins shouts to Ryder. “Get her out of here.” He pitches the reins to Ryder. “Take her as far away as possible. We’ll hold them off.”
Ryder catches the reins and tosses them back to me, knowing we’ll move faster if I have control of my own horse. I race after him, stoked on adrenaline, throat full of fear. We thread our way through the trees, ducking branches, dodging boulders, searching desperately for openings in the boxwoods. Quickly, the forest becomes impenetrable on horseback. Ryder leaps off Tenasi’s back and pulls me from atop Gabriel. He turns the horses in the opposite direction and swats their rumps. They gallop wildly away from us.
Ryder grabs my arm and tows me into the dense thicket, his sword drawn.
“What are we going to do?” I ask, gasping for air.
“We must hide you.”
“Where?”
We hack our way through brambles and undergrowth, frantically searching for a cave, a stream, a hollow tree, someplace to hide.
The bushes to our right rustle loudly, and a black knight charges us, sword raised high.
Ryder shoves me behind him and swings his sword mightily. The blade connects with the man’s neck. Blood spouts like a scarlet fountain from the ferocious wound. The man withers to the ground.
Ryder pulls me toward a solid wall of brambles. He plunges his arms into the mass of branches and thorns and uses his body to spread them apart, clearing a space for me. I ram myself inside the opening pushing back as far as I can, scratching and scraping every inch of exposed skin with the effort. He rearranges the mass of vegetation around me. “I’ll be back for you,” he says and bolts off into the woods. After a second or two I hear a loud war whoop and understand Ryder’s trying to draw the black knights away from me.
Three men race by in the direction of the cry, dodging their dead comrade splayed on the forest floor, and paying no attention to my hiding place.
All I can think of is the fact that Ryder’s not wearing his armor. I hold my breath and chant in my head, Don’t let him die, don’t let him die, don’t let him die.
A maddening quiet descends upon the forest. Blood pounds in my ears, my breath comes in shallow spurts. What’s happening out there? Then the distinctive crunching of twigs under footfalls sends a hot chill down my spine. Please let it be Ryder.
It’s not. I’m unable to see the man’s face through my protective shrub, but flashes of black armor are visible. Quietly as possible, I shift my body to get a better view.
The man walks to the fallen knight and roughly uses his foot to roll him on his back. Laying his sword on the ground, he kneels near the dead man and rifles through his pockets, stuffing his ill-gotten gains inside his pants. I consider making a run for it while he’s distracted, but I’m not sure I can wrestle my way out of this leafy prison. All I’d accomplish is giving away my location. After the dead man’s pockets are emptied, the black-armored thief yanks a ring from the man’s lifeless hand, grasps his sword again, and rises to his feet. Slowly he turns full circle, nose in the air.
“Where are you, Princess?” His singsong voice cuts me to the bone. “I know you are here. I can smell your sweet lavender sweat.” He has a slight accent, maybe French.
My fingers scrabble along my belt probing for the hilt of my sword.
“I will find you, my petite prize. Two hundred thousand in gold for your lovely corpse.” He cackles.
My hand connects with the hilt my katana, but it’s twisted around behind me, firmly wedged into the brambles. It won’t budge. I remain perfectly still, my pulse jagged, silent prayers on my lips.
He sniffs the air, edging closer to my hiding place. “Ah, there you are.” A pair of bulging, fanatical blue eyes peers at me through the branches and leaves. Petrified in place, my insides are a quivering mass of terror.
“Come out now, my sweet, or I will come in for you.”
He waits a beat, then raises his sword and begins hacking away at my thorny cocoon. It’s do or die time, Jaden. I twist and squirm further into the bushes, but only lodge myself more firmly into this death trap. Then I remember my TPD bracelet. It’s my only hope.
Crazy Eyes continues to chop wildly at the tangled brambles. Bits of leaves and branches fly everywhere. Sucking in a tight breath, I force my wrist up in front of my face and flip open the medallion. The lighted holographic map bounces and fractures off the mangled bushes. Quickly punching the button for my last saved coordinates, I glance up in time to see the knight’s shiny blade slice an arc toward my head. I raise my arm protectively, and the razor sharp edge nearly lops off my hand. Screaming in sheer agony, I somehow manage to double-click the TPD with my other hand.
Zzzt.
Landing in the middle of Asher’s room, I nearly knock him off his desk chair. “Holy Mother of Mayhem, Jade! What the hell are you doing?”
“At the moment, I’m bleeding all over your pretty rug,” I say clutching my injured hand to my chest. “Help me, please.”
* * *
The first thing I see when I open my eyes is Narowyn’s lovely face. “There you are,” she says stroking my forehead. “You’ve been unconscious for a while.”
“How long?” I ask, trying to sit up.
“About two hours now. Just rest. We’ve taken care of your injury. What happened to you, dear?”
I raise my hand. It’s been bandaged, and I’m relieved to see my thumb’s still there. “Someone tried to kill me. I’ve got to get back. My father will be searching for me, and so will Ryder.” If he’s still alive.
“Be at peace, dear. We will get you back to your father. First, let us make certain you are well enough to travel and that you will be safe.” She helps me to a sitting position. I’m on a flat table in a brightly-lit area that looks like a doctor’s examination room. Asher hovers silently behind Narowyn, his features strained. “How do you feel,” she asks. “Are you lightheaded?”
“Maybe a little. Not bad. My hand hurts like hell, though.”
“I expect it does,” Asher pipes up. “That’s quite a gash.”
“Yeah. Sorry about your rug,” I say.
“Don’t worry about it. Tell us what happened,” he says.
“We were on the road to the Enclave, when we were ambushed. Ryder hid me in the woods, but one of them found me.”
“Who attacked you?” Narowyn asks.
“I don’t kn
ow. They weren’t forest people or highwaymen. But I don’t think they were soldiers either. They wore black armor, but with no insignias or other markings identifying them as part of an army. Before he tried to slice me to shreds, the guy who did this said I was worth two hundred thousand pieces of gold, dead.”
Narowyn and Asher exchange a look. “Could it have been the Garugians?” Asher asks her.
“No. They don’t have her imprint, and they’re not sophisticated enough to have tracked her if they did.”
“Who are the Garugians?” I ask uneasily.
“Dimension jumpers,” Asher says. “Inter-universal gangsters. Sworn enemies of the Transcenders. But, Narowyn’s right, it couldn’t have been them. Regardless, of who it was, you can’t go back there, Jade. They may still be hunting you.”
“I have to go back. I can’t just disappear again!”
“Let’s think this through calmly,” Narowyn says. “It is not safe for you to reappear in the forest. Is there a secure place nearby where you can logically land? Where your father will find you? The Enclave, perhaps?”
“No. The Enclave is a walled city. I can’t just suddenly materialize inside the wall. There’s only one way in or out, and that’s through the entrance gate.”
“All right,” she says thoughtfully. “What if you appeared outside the gate? You tell them you escaped from your attackers and made your way through the woods to the entrance. It’s been two hours, and you certainly look as though you’ve been clawing your way through a forest.”
My clothes are filthy and blood-soaked. An impressive array of scratches and scrapes decorates my arms. No doubt my face looks just as bad. “You didn’t wash my face, did you?”
She smiles, sheepishly. “No, I’m sorry.”
“That’s good. But I can’t go back wearing this bandage. What did you do to my hand?”
“We repaired the tendons, mended the tissue and put everything back together.”
“You stitched me up?” I ask alarmed.
“We used a combination of things. Some medication and surgical glue. There are no visible sutures. It looks very good, actually.” Narowyn gingerly takes my hand and begins to unwrap the bandage. I wince at the pain.
“We have pain medication if you like, but it may make you drowsy,” she says.
“No. No more medication.”
When she’s finished unbandaging me, I hold up my hand and examine it. Despite the deep throb, it does look good. Too good. It’s obvious I suffered a major cut clean through from my thumb to my wrist, but the skin on both sides of my hand has been glued together, and the wound is barely red at all. Crap!
“What am I going to tell my father? He’s a doctor. He’s going to know something’s not right.”
“I’m sorry, Jaden, but we couldn’t allow you to bleed to death,” Narowyn says gently.
I realize I’m being an ungrateful brat. “No, I’m sorry,” I say. “Thank you so much for taking care of me. I had no right to show up in Asher’s apartment unannounced and bleed all over everything. I really appreciate all you’ve done. Your idea about going to the gate is a good one. If you can help me make a bandage using the bottom of my shirt, it will appear more believable. Maybe I can keep my dad from looking at it for a few days.”
Narowyn grimaces. “Jaden, your shirt is bloody and soiled. It’s unsanitary.”
“I promise I’ll re-dress it as soon as I reach Father’s house. It’s the only thing I could have used to bandage it myself.”
She takes a scalpel from a stainless steel tray. “This will be easier if you lie back,” she says. I shift around and lie back on the table. She makes a slit through the fabric of my top.
“Don’t make it too pretty,” I say. “I’m supposed to have done this myself and with an injured hand.”
She replaces the scalpel in the tray and rips a long strip of cloth from the bottom of my shirt. “This should do,” she says. “Shall I wrap it for you, or would you like to do the honors?”
“I’ll do it,” I say sitting up and taking the cloth from her.
“Use the clean side,” she admonishes.
I ineptly wrap the strip of cloth around my hand a few times. Narowyn tightens it for me and tucks in the ends so it will stay put.
“Thanks,” I say. “Ash, will you help me program in the coordinates for the gate at the Enclave?” I slide off the examination table.
“Sure,” he says, “and I’m going with you.”
“No you’re not.”
“You can’t really stop me.” He dares me with his eyes. “I guarantee no one will see me. Once I’m certain you’re safely within the walls, I’ll leave.”
“Yes,” Narowyn says. “Asher will watch from a hidden vantage point until you are inside the gate. We must be certain you are safe, Jaden. I’m very troubled by this whole incident. Someone wants you dead and is willing to pay a high price for it. Do you know who that might be?”
“I can only think of one person,” I say. “My uncle. You already know he was in high hopes his daughter would become queen when my mother passes away. Then I showed up and spoiled all his plans. I was on my way to the Enclave to sign legal documents to revoke his appointment to office and remove his daughter from the line of succession. He may have found out about that.”
“Good heavens,” Narowyn says. “I was afraid of this. Are you certain it’s safe to go back?”
“Yes. The Enclave’s very secure, and I’m sure my father will have me heavily guarded night and day after this. Everything’s in the works so my uncle will be gone the minute I take the throne.”
“That will not happen until the queen passes. What will you do until then?” she asks.
“I’m not sure. But I won’t take any unnecessary chances.”
“I’m reassured to hear that. But if you need our help, do not hesitate to call on us. Godspeed, dear.” She kisses both of my cheeks.
Asher scoops up my good hand, and Zzzt, we’re off.
FORTY-ONE
It’s dusk when we land across the road from the entrance to the Enclave. The large wooden gates stand open, and a group of armed soldiers on horseback thunders out onto the road. Clutching Asher’s arm, I tug him back into the trees so we won’t be seen.
“Probably a search party,” he says.
I nod silently, as the gates slowly close, and the horsemen disappear in the distance. “I should probably wait a few minutes so it won’t seem odd that I didn’t flag down the soldiers.”
“Good thinking.”
We watch the gates for a time. All is quiet. The soldiers are long gone, and there’s no reason for me to tarry any longer. “Guess it’s time to show myself,” I say.
Asher leans in toward me. “I’m glad I got to see you again, even if you do look like hell,” he whispers.
Funny guy. “Thanks for everything, Ash. I owe you for the rug.”
“Anytime.” He backs further into the shadows to watch.
Staying alert for hidden attackers, I move cautiously to the gates grateful for Asher’s unseen presence. The gate on the left has a small pedestrian door in its center. I pound on it with my good hand.
“Nathan” I shout. A moment passes. No response.
“Naathaan!”
The door opens inward and Nathan’s ancient, white-whiskered face peeps out. “Who’s there?” he says loudly, scrutinizing me suspiciously.
“Nathan, it’s me. It’s Jaden.” His eyes widen to twice their normal size.
“Princess, come in, come in.” He takes my arm and ushers me inside. “The entire city is positively in an uproar, after your attack. Are you all right, child? Sit, sit.” He motions to a well-used, cushioned chair stationed next to the gate controls. Having seen me arrive, several gate sentries rush over to help.
“It’s Princess Jaden. Call the governor. Tell him she’s safe,” Nathan orders.
One of the young men takes a silver oval object from the shelf. Turning it over, he punches a few buttons and holds it t
o his ear.
“Hey did you guys get those from the Unicoi?” I ask recognizing the device.
“Yes. They’re called transceivers. Very useful gadgets,” Nathan replies.
Within ten minutes, Father speeds to the gate driving a small wagon and looking as if he might bounce out of the driver’s seat any second. He heaves back on the reins and jumps from his seat before the horses come fully to a halt. Gathering me into a tight embrace, he says, “Thank God you’re all right. I have five hundred men scouring the forest for you. Where were you?”
