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He glanced down at her, startled, and the distraction let the guard's sword sweep dangerously close to his ear. It speared the fabric of his makeshift hood and snagged instead of slicing, leaving the man wide open for attack.
Thea jerked the dagger free as Gil took advantage of the opening. Two blows sent the guard crashing backwards into the water without his sword. She grimaced as the murky river water spattered her face, but leaned farther over the side anyway. The rope that bound the ferry to the dock resisted as she dragged the dagger across it. Why had she thought it would be easy to cut?
The second guard made the leap and was greeted with a fist to the face.
“Come on, you,” Thea growled as she sawed faster.
The rope snapped without warning and she almost fell over the edge. A strong hand closed on the back of her dress and hauled her up just far enough to drop her on the deck. It wasn't far to fall, but her breath left her in a whoosh when she struck.
Then the ferry lurched into motion again. The gap grew and the guards clustered at the end of the dock as the baying of search dogs rose among the trees. Already, some of the guards raced to meet the newcomers, while others shouted for boats or watched helplessly from the shore.
Gil set his jaw as he heaved them along the guide chain. The torn fabric slipped from his shoulders as he pulled, every tendon standing out in the backs of his hands.
Thea caught the fabric and gathered it close as she looked back. The river was wide and dark, but the light of the setting sun hit the city of Samara and set its trees aflame. A lump rose in her throat as she watched her home shrink away behind them.
“Look forward,” Gil said softly as he repositioned his hands. He kept them moving at a steady pace, faster than the ferryman would have done. “There's nothing for you there now.”
She stared a moment longer, then lowered her eyes. His dagger was still in her hand. She tilted it and studied her distorted reflection in its polished surface. “There was nothing for me there to begin with.” He was too busy to take it, so she leaned forward to return it to its sheath.
He watched until he deemed her no threat. For a time, they rode in silence, but as they neared the far side of the river, he spoke. “I committed an error.”
“You didn't check the rope.”
“I allowed myself to be distracted.”
“But you rescued me, so I suppose I should be grateful for that.” An absurd notion, she mused. Gratitude toward the man who'd put her in this situation to begin with. She gave her head the slightest of shakes, determined to dislodge any appreciation before it could take root. She would sew clothing to hide them in exchange for her life. She would escape Kentoria. And then she'd start over, and the two of them would never cross paths again.
“I had little choice,” Gil replied, shattering what little respect she might have grudgingly offered. “We still have need of each other, don't we?”
Unfortunately so. Thea turned in place to stare at the shore, where the guards in their glinting armor converged on tiny boats in preparation for pursuit. “How are we escaping when we land?”
He didn't look back, wholly focused on dragging the ferry along the chain. A mist of sweat speckled his forehead, betraying the effort it took. “That part's easy.”
“How so?”
Gil's answer came with a grim smile. “We run.”
CHAPTERFOUR
Thea had never been athletic.It did not take long to conclude her accidental association with Gil would change that. From how easily he loped across the hills and hollows that formed the countryside north of the capital, she suspected he could run for days. She, on the other hand, had tripped seventeen times, and was uncertain whether or not the time she'd stumbled as he lifted her from the hole of a rabbit's warren counted as an eighteenth. It did not, she decided on the spot. She wouldn't have stumbled if he hadn't caught her ankle and held it for inspection.
That sort of gentleness had been entirely unwelcome. He was dangerous, a savage brute who killed without remorse, who had ruined her life and was responsible for her needing to run in the first place. That he would look after her well-being now was the least that he owed her, but he could do that without daring to touch her without permission. They would have to establish ground rules for the rest of their travels. When they stopped to rest, that was. It took all her breath just to make it up the next hill.
He paused at the top and turned back to face her, poised to offer a hand. He'd done that far too many times, and with genuine concern on his face.
She averted her eyes before he could extend his hand, rejecting help before he gave it. “Surely we've lost them by now,” she panted, unsure what to say. Night had long since fallen. By blessing or perhaps design, a hunter's moon hung in the sky, providing more than enough light by which to flee. But not, she thought ruefully, enough to avoid the burrows and holes animals left in the hillsides. It was a miracle her ankle hadn't been twisted. If it had, Gil might have tried to carry her.
“Unlikely.” His eyes swept from her to the southern horizon, where Samara and its lights remained only a faint glow against the sky. Before long, that too would pass beyond sight. “You must consider why they chase us. They will not halt their pursuit.”
“We shouldn't have taken the ferry, then. They were waiting for us.”
“As they would have been at any other crossing point. My original plan involved swimming across, at the narrow point just before the lake.”
Thea braced her hands against her hips and tried to catch her breath. She'd come to regret her choice of attire, but at least it would be short-lived. The sooner she had a chance to sit and sew, the better. “When will we stop?”
“Soon. We can run forever and die of exhaustion, or we can count on our headway to provide time to work.” Gil started down the hill without indication he expected her to come along. She supposed by now, the assumption she would follow was sound.
“Surely the dogs will pursue us anywhere. They saw us cross the river, the water was no aid.”
