AllFreeNovel
Share Us
There was one thing I was forgetting. My medicine. I had put off taking it, thinking to do so before bed after the ball.
Now I turned to the desk where I had already brewed the potion and picked up the goblet. Downing the contents quickly, I picked up my bags and slung them over my shoulders.
My head, which had already been spinning, almost immediately began to throb.
I moved quietly back through the castle then out into the night, trying to ignore the pounding pain.
When I entered the stables, Whitehorn was already there. As I stumbled towards them, I could hear him arguing with Draven.
“The plan was to leave tomorrow. You can’t change that on a whim, Draven.” Whitehorn stood with his arms crossed, glaring at the Royal Guard captain.
Ragnar Whitehorn was a surly-looking man in his mid-forties, with steely eyes, a thick, rough beard, and graying brown hair. I had seen him around the castle before, usually in the company of Lord Agravaine. Or Florian.
“We’re leaving tonight,” Draven snapped. “The king is well aware. If you want to run back to your master and ask for further instructions while he’s in the midst of his revels, be my guest. But the princess and I are leaving. Now. As we have been instructed to do. It’s your own neck on the line if you stay behind.” He looked up as I approached. “Here you are.” He studied me closely, ignoring Whitehorn. “What’s wrong with you?”
“Wrong?” The question seemed loaded with irony, but I just shook my head. “Nothing. I’ll tell you later.” In all honesty, my head was beginning to throb so badly that I wondered if I would be able to stay astride my horse.
Draven grabbed my bags and carried them over to where Haya stood, saddled and ready to go.
His own mount stood beside her, a black stallion with a flash of white lightning between its eyes.
I raised a hand to gently brush Haya’s mane. “I’m sorry, girl,” I whispered. “What an awful night.” She whinnied softly.
Then, before I could even turn around, strong hands grasped my waist, lifting me up and into the saddle.
I looked over to see Draven mounting his own horse.
Whitehorn was leading a piebald over. A packhorse loaded with provisions had been tied behind the piebald. Whitehorn looked sour and displeased, but plainly he meant to come along.
“Stay behind the princess,” Draven commanded. “I’ll ride out front. We stop to rest when I say, not before.” He glanced at me and seemed to hesitate, before adding, “Best prepare for a long night.”
I nodded. We were leaving and that was all that mattered. Whether anyone would come after us... that was another question altogether.
The rain poured down in sheets as we rode through the deserted streets of the city. Any festivities still going on had moved indoors.
My hair had come out of its updo. Now it lay plastered to my face and neck as I followed Draven. I pushed it back, trying to twist it into a loose braid.
Draven led the way down narrow alleys and back streets, avoiding the main thoroughfares where city guards were likely to be patrolling.
As we neared the city gates, my heart quickened. I pulled my hood up to shield my eyes from the rain but also to cover my face.
But there was no need for concern. The guards at the gates had clearly been drinking all day and besides, they recognized Draven. With a shouted exchange of pleasantries, they waved us on without giving Whitehorn or myself a second look.
Despite all of my qualms, the pain in my head, and the unexpected horror of the night, I couldn’t help but feel a sense of excitement.
We were out. We were on our way. Riding into the great unknown.
