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“Where is Blaire?”
He stops and looks at me, giving me his full, furious attention. “She told me to go fuck myself, stole a horse, and rode after them,” he says, his tone deadpan with repressed judgment.
I don’t have time to consider all the ramifications of that statement. I have to go after her. Now. I have to get to her before she gets to them.
“ROYAL GUARD! TO ME!”
Nine warriors follow in my wake. We are forced to hunt for suitable mounts, with the horses having scattered all over the upland plain. That slows us all the more. Every second wasted is another second in which Blaire could be killed.
* * *
Blaire
I ride in the wake of the Eponite cowards, knowing that they could kill me, and not particularly caring. I’m so fucking angry that fear doesn’t have a chance to influence my decision-making. I know only one thing for sure: they are going to pay for what they did.
Horses have probably been hurt and definitely been terrified. Some may run over cliffs, into the city, break their legs in fences, I have no idea, but I know that what has happened today will never happen again.
The Eponites have never been bought to justice. That’s going to change today.
I don’t give a shit what Equs says about letting them live. They’re our enemies, and enemies must die. If I were back on Earth, I'd have a gun. Here, I’ve got nothing but a bow, a bunch of exploding arrows, and an ornery Texas temperament. Also, the willingness to make them suffer.
I’m closing in on them. Their ponies are tiring and my horse is fresh with fear. I understand now why Equs could always catch me. His horses are another level of swift
“Get fucked!” I scream, losing an arrow at the last carriage.
It arcs towards them, misses them completely, but makes a very cool explosion on the ground.
I don’t want to hurt their ponies. I just want to hurt them. Badly.
Unfortunately, my aim with these bows is shit, and every time I drop the reins to take a shot my horse fucks off in the wrong direction. It doesn't like the explosions, and this isn’t the time to try to work on desensitization.
I’m all over the place, but that doesn’t mean I’m going to give up. I’m not going to…
“HEY!”
I cry out as a massive pair of hands grabs me and drags me off my mount. It’s Equs. Holy shit. How the fuck did he do that?
He’s caught me plenty of times before. This is the first time I didn’t see him coming. I was too busy trying to murder the bastards who tried to kill our horses.
“Let me fucking go! Let. Me. Fucking. Go! They’re getting away!”
“Stop,” he growls in my ear. “You are in more trouble than you can possibly imagine.”
I don’t care. The blood is pounding in my veins with an intensity that makes it impossible to do anything other than be tense and furious. I want to do very bad things to the Eponites. I want to get revenge. I want them to know what a horrendous mistake they made when they crossed me.
“You’re a bad girl,” he growls in my ear. “You almost died once, and you decide to go die again? Do you have a death wish?”
They’re going. Going. They’re fucking gone over a hill, disappearing off to their nasty little dens.
“I have a revenge wish. I have a kill all those bastards, wish. That’s what humans do when someone attacks us. We attack back. We keep attacking until there’s nothing left.”
Equs doesn’t reply but I can feel his anger as he turns around and heads for what he would call safety, and I would call… not safety. Fuck. I am so angry I can’t even do words in my head.
“Whoa!”
Equs calls his mount to a halt after we’ve ridden in the wrong direction for a good twenty minutes, just letting them get away. He hauls me off it, gripping me hard as if he's afraid I’m going to disappear again.
“You do NOT rush off and attack an entire war band of Eponites on your own.”
He swings me around, using his grip on my arm like a fulcrum of punishment. I’m expecting what comes next, but that doesn’t actually make it hurt less. He slaps my ass hard enough for me to feel it next week, driving me up onto my toes and making me curse at the top of my lungs.
His men have stopped at what might be a respectful distance. There are more coming this way if the procession of light being thrown by torches held by extra riders is anything to go by. A whole army, dedicated to the art of repeated retreat. What the actual fuck.
“Beat me if you want,” I hiss. “They deserve to die.”
