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I couldn’t be sure if all of them knew who we were, but I guessed they did and the captain certainly did. We were enemies of Latran, but we’d be treated with care because the queen wanted us alive and unharmed. This also meant that, a stark contrast to the mercenaries, the soldiers kept their hands to themselves and I didn’t feel in any danger of them taking advantage of me. In some ways, they were more like Devon, but had none of his easy swagger—he was casual, they were uptight. They never smiled.
And yet, though it was nice to know that I wouldn’t be molested in any way during the night, I feared these men more because I knew the fate towards which they were taking me.
“You’ll sleep in here,” the captain pointed to the tent that had been erected for us to spend the night under guard.
It was probably more comfortable than sleeping under the stars next to Devon had been, I had more defense from the cold and the leaf litter of the wood made the ground softer. But the ball of knotted anxiety in the pit of my stomach made me feel very uncomfortable and I tossed and turned a long while before finally falling into a fitful sleep, full of bad dreams about what tomorrow might bring.
When I was shaken awake, it was still dark and for a moment I thought I must still be dreaming. The face looking down at me wasn’t that of one of the soldiers, it was Devon. In that instant, when I thought this was still a dream, then a wicked thrill seared through me, because in my dreams I could let him do whatever he wanted without feeling bad about it.
“We must leave, Selena,” he said hurriedly and in a whisper. “There might be other patrols about.”
“Other patrols?” What about the soldiers who had been escorting us? Didn’t we still have to worry about them?
Devon said nothing more as he cut my bonds and moved onto Uther.
“Can’t we sleep a little longer?” my father asked.
Devon sighed. “I wish we could, but we’ll be safer once we’re back across the border. It’ll be a few hours before they realize you’re not coming and I’d like to put some distance between them and us before then.”
“We won’t be able to move fast,” I pointed out. “Siegfried can’t carry all three of us.”
Devon shook his head. “As luck would have it, there are other horses available.”
He helped my father up then and we followed him out of the little tent.
As the scene outside met my eyes I drew in a sharp breath.
“Best not to dwell on it,” observed Devon. “Just remember that they were taking you to your deaths.”
The camp was carnage. It looked as if a squad of enemy soldiers had attacked in the night and left no one alive. I looked at Devon with a mixture of admiration and fear—a feeling I’d never felt for him before and one that was strangely discouraging.
He shrugged. “If it’s any consolation, I did make sure they were all awake before I fought them. I don’t kill sleeping men. Unless I absolutely have to.”
“You fought all these men by yourself?” I gasped. “And you won?”
“A few lucky strikes perhaps,” he answered on a casual shrug as if this feat were no big deal. “I’ve always been lucky. Come on, they won’t be needing their horses now so you may as well pick the best of the bunch. You know about horses don’t you, princess?”
My long-held suspicions were confirmed; he knew who we were, and had probably always known. But that didn’t explain why he’d come back and risked his life to save us. A hot, frantic little part of me urgently pointed out that after what Devon had done to rescue us, any attraction I might have unwillingly felt for him could now be much more willing and could even be acted upon without feeling guilty. It also pointed out that there was one very obvious reason why he might have come back to save us.
But that was just wishful thinking by my libido, which had been making its own bad decisions since I’d first laid eyes on Devon.
Uther was already over with the horses, moving from one to another, whispering to them, petting them, seeing which he liked and perhaps which liked him.
“This is yours,” he smiled, passing me the reins. “Her name is Autumn.”
“Is it?”
“Yes, or so she told me.”
He selected a horse for himself too (‘Lightning’) and took a last look at the camp, as if noticing the dead men for the first time.
“It looks as if they were ambushed,” he observed.
Devon nodded. “Good.”
I wondered what he meant by that.
We mounted up and rode off through the Border Wood, as night began to edge its way into morning.
