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The saddle beneath me feels familiar and somehow comforting. I hold the reins steady and a little loose. The horse waits expectantly.
Good boy.
Much to my relief, he’s easy to handle, and not too spooked by all the violence.
He must be used to it.
I give him a gentle squeeze with my legs. “Let’s go.”
He starts to walk.
Fear and excitement course through me. This isit.I might actually be able to escape from here.
I apply a bit more pressure with my legs, more briskly this time.
He speeds up. I shorten the reins and ease him into a trot, absorbing his movements with my body.
Almost.
We’re almost away.
We’re about to break into a canter; to leave this terrible place behind for good.
But then I hear the sound of my own name, shouted by a voice that’s all too familiar to me.
“Fin! Don’t go!”
I pull on the horse’s reins.
Did I really just hear that, or am I hallucinating?
There’s no way I can ignore that voice.
I turn in my saddle.
And all of a sudden, I’m staring back at a face that’s so very similar to my own.
6
FINLEY
Three lads.
What?
They’ve followed me all the way here, taking the very best horses from Ruen’s stables.
I can’t believe my eyes.
I squint.
In the distance, I see my younger brother, Kastel, galloping toward me.
Behind him is another rider. It’s Garan. One of the squires, he’s the son of Ruen Castle’s stable master, and a good friend of my brothers. They’ve played together since they were toddlers.
Someone is slumped across the front of Aran’s horse.
