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“Good idea. I’m fresh out of stools and balconies.”
“What about buckets of excrement?”
“Is that what that was?”
“You didn’t smell it?”
“A princess chooses not to.”
“Thanks for the warning, by the way. It barely missed me.”
“If there’s anyone who should be thankful, it’s me.”
Chapter 12
The Fevered Wood
Stupid to be smiling in a situation like this, but it was a good joke. Jav had stopped bothering with smart decision-making, anyway. There was no smart or stupid, no wise or foolish.
Just right or wrong, and what needed to be done.
Every step made his ribs ache, and the arm that’d taken the shield impact was bruised heavily. He was just lucky he wasn’t bleeding. Pain, he could tolerate. The physical pain was nothing compared to what the alternative would have been if he’d followed orders.
Several buildings on the far side of the village abutted a forest. Walled off and neatly manicured at the entrance, these woods were reserved by the king for recreation and hunting. Otherwise, the forest would never have been so dense nor so close to the town, and half the trees would have been turned into houses by now. If not all of them.
The third building he’d inspected was built right up against the wall and had a set of stairs leading up to a balcony jutting from the top floor. They were able to quietly make their way up and over the balcony’s railing to the back wall where he ever so carefully lowered Iseris to the ground before he jumped down after her. This way, they were able to avoid having to pass through a gate where they’d certainly have been peppered with questions and recognized.
No more than a quarter of an hour after his altercation with the palace forces, they had left the village proper and were now far safer than they’d been on the streets.
It was dark. So, this would do as a place to hide, better than the streets, anyway. On the other hand, the prince and the king both knew this forest intimately. Better than Iseris, most likely. And certainly better than he did.
“Have you ever been in here?” he muttered, hoping his assumptions were wrong.
“Into the Fevered Wood?” she asked.
“Is that what they call it?” He’d never heard anyone bother to give it a name.
“Yes. I don’t know why. No, I’ve never been in here.”
“I’ve only been a few times.”
Limping along, she grimaced but said nothing.
“Are you all right?”
“Feet hurting already, I’m afraid,” she said as she tried to quicken her pace, despite the pain.
He didn’t look down. Those shoes wouldn’t last long; he’d realized that somewhere before their rooftop altercation. It wouldn’t help to assess the damage now. He’d carry her if he had to, but they should be able to make it at least a little longer. He hoped.
“A horse has ridden through here. Recently.” She pointed down at the fresh hoof prints, then glanced up at the sky. More snow was falling.
“Hmmm. Fancy that,” he muttered as he grew concerned for the mare. He hadn’t thought about how long this might take. Hadn’t really been thinking clearly at all.
She frowned at him, but then turned her eyes back to the ground and the path they followed when he didn’t reply. “Perhaps the snow will cover our tracks.”
“Let us hope it does, without covering us as well.”
The woods were dark, but not as dark as he’d have liked. A moon approaching full had risen, casting long shadows from the trees, and the snow-covered ground reflected the moon’s eerie glow. And it was true, the sleeping forest was calm, aside from their feet crunching branches and kicking stray stones.
