‘Go!’I hissed at Cillian and Bethel.
Cillian mounted his horse and pulled Bethel up in front of him like she was nothing but a sack of flour.In an instant, he had kicked his horse’s sides and was riding for the tree line.A few men behind me moved to go after them, but the man with the gold earring called them back.
‘Let them go.We have what we want.’
One archer lowered their bow and raised a small hand.I felt a sudden jerk on my swords as if an unseen force was pulling them away from me.The pull became stronger, but I held on tight.The archer raised another hand, and it intensified, my forearms cramping in protest.My feet slipped across the damp morning grass as I tried harder to resist what must have been the archer’s Curse.The archer’s face reddened from the strain, and blood began trickling from their nose.
I couldn’t hold on any longer, and I growled furiously as they flew from my hands and dropped at the feet of the Cursed archer’s horse.
From nowhere, a heavy boot kicked me in the head, and I dropped to my knees.While I was dazed, a sack was shoved over my head and my wrists were tied.
Their leader shouted at his men.‘Careful when you touch her!’His strange accent caught my attention.Not like Cillian’s or Lord Warwick’s, but harsher, throatier.
I thrashed blindly as someone tried to lift me.I got another blow to the head for my efforts, and more hands grabbed me, seating me on a horse.My horse.
The knock on my head left me disorientated, and not being able to see filled me with panic.I clutched onto the pommel with my tied hands as Nightmare was led into a canter.
The pounding hooves of several riders surrounded me.I thought about throwing myself off my horse, but we were going at a speed that would cause me to break a few bones, which would entirely hinder my escape – not to mention I risked being trampled to death by the other riders.
Concentrating on the leader riding the white horse, I pictured his dark eyes, golden skin, and that gold hoop in his earlobe.I imagined him being engulfed by shadows, turning black, and becoming a pile of ash on his horse’s back.
The Darkness didn’t respond.I swore.Without sight or touch, my Curse was dormant.My only chance now was if Cillian had made it to Torgrin with Bethel and raised the alarm.
There was no stopping or resting for hours.Eventually my captors lifted me from Nightmare and pushed and shoved me until I was told to sit.With little choice, I dropped to the ground.It surprised me when they didn’t tie me to a tree or something, although a guard might have been standing over me for all I knew.
The familiar sounds of soldiers setting up camp surrounded me.I listened to the early evening crickets and shivered as the temperature dropped.No-one offered me food or water, so I sat staring into the blackness of my blindfold.
Why was I taken, not Bethel?Who were these strangely dressed men who spoke with the same peculiar accent as their leader?I was fortunate that they hadn’t searched me for more weapons in their haste because I still had my father’s dagger in my boot.I could reach it with my tied hands and work on cutting the rope if nobody was watching me.Waiting until most of my kidnappers were asleep would give me a better chance of succeeding.
Time drifted away from me as I sat on the bumpy ground, unable to do anything but listen and think.The Cursed archer came to mind.They were powerful enough to pull away my swords, but it took its toll, remembering how their nose bled as I resisted.
The night went by, and the chatter and movements around the camp were dwindling until there was a sudden commotion among my kidnappers.
Someone had entered their camp uninvited.
‘I’m unarmed.’
Torgrin.His deep voice floated towards me.The entire camp became silent, I imagined as they took in Torgrin’s tall, dark figure.Was he really unarmed?Was he alone?He better not have come alone.
A deep belly laugh echoed around the camp.‘Well, what do we have here?’asked the leader, still laughing.‘The Titan’s son returned, perhaps?’
Wait.What did he just say?
‘Hello, Father,’ replied Torgrin.
‘Son, what are you doing here?’The question didn’t sound like it came from a father; it sounded like it was coming from a commanding officer.It was time to take the risk and reach for the dagger.If Torgrin was unarmed, I needed to get this hood off now.
My pulse hammered as I reached my tied hands into my boot.I pulled the dagger out slowly, bracing for someone to stop me.When no-one sounded the alarm, I pinned the dagger handle tight between my raised knees and felt for the blade with careful fingers.Trying not to cut my wrists, I ran the rope back and forth over the blade in short, steady movements.
‘You have something of mine.’Torgrin’s voice sounded as dangerous as his father’s.
‘She’s your woman?’
‘Yes.’
What the stars, Torgrin?I was no man’s woman.
‘Well, I’m afraid she isn’t anymore.The king wants her.’
