The Forlorn(55)

"Back! Back off, if you want your Emperor to live," Cap shouted, his voice carrying loudly back into the rain haze.

"Let me go! My men will—"

"Your men will back off and allow us to pass. If they do exactly as I tell them, you'll stay alive." There was that kind of certainty in the voice which goes far beyond any form of denial.

They rode through the parting ranks, a grim little party with blades held against two throats. Leyla had Deshin's reins, but Shael held her own, sitting straight and regal, ignoring Cap's blade. But her eye was caught by a wink from a Cuirassier as they passed. She knew that face, even if she had had only a second to look at it, back when the guard at Shapstone palace had "ignored" her presence in the curtains. Just what had he been trying to say to her?

They had come to the point where the sand spit became part of the mainland when a shower of arrows flew out of rain-shrouded scrub. One of them cut across Leyla's arm and hit Deshin's horse in the hock. The animal whinnied and reared, almost throwing its rider, ripping free the reins from Leyla, and bumping into the startled Beywulf. And the Emperor broke free, hanging low over the horse's neck.

Keilin's assegai flew, as Cap, holding his sword aloft now, yelled, "Ride!" and kicked his horse to a gallop. In a few moments they were all galloping behind him. A brief skirmish and they were through, dodging away among the scrub patches and dripping palmettos in the rain haze.

"To the sea!" Cap cried. They rode neck on neck, thundering onto the beach and along the tide wash, and then when they reached a rocky slab, they rode cautiously into the scrub. They couldn't see anyone behind them, in the rain curtains, but there were distant sounds. Cap led them further in, towards the ridges. He pushed them as hard and fast as the horses could go until darkness came.

Their camp was as hidden as they could make it, deep in the liana jungle of the valley bottom. The rain had stopped but Cap denied them even the comfort of a small fire. "They're hunting us out there. It's not worth the chance. We'll leave here before dawn," he said, in a voice that brooked no argument. Then he turned to Beywulf, his voice flinty. "Well, Sergeant-Major, would you care to explain just what happened back there? Why didn't you kill the little bastard?"

"No excuse, sir. I wasn't prepared for his horse to rear. I didn't think they'd take a chance with their hostage's life." In the dim leaf-shadowed moonlight, Beywulf stood ramrod straight, looking at the middle distance.

"Hmm. That's no excuse, soldier."

"Sir . . ." Keilin said cautiously.

"Don't interrupt me, boy. That was a good throw of yours back there. Pity there wasn't really poison on the thing."

"There was. If it cut him he's going to be unconscious for a day or two at least," Keilin said quietly.

"What! That's better than I'd hoped. I saw it slice nicely into his shoulder. Obviously his mail shirt was more pretty than functional. And I thought it a pity it hadn't killed him! Well done, boy," said Cap, and turned back to Beywulf. "Now let me finish dealing with this bungler."

"Sir, S'kith told me something else you must know," risked Keilin again. "Bey was right, sir. It was not the Emperor's men that shot at us. S'kith and I were at the back, as we're far the worst riders. They were trying to kill the Emperor, not us. There was one hell of a firefight behind us."

At last Keilin had managed to shift Cap's attention. The man actually laughed. "All this for a bloody woman." He looked across to where she was silently unpacking her bedroll. "You're more trouble than you're worth, you know. Any reasons why I shouldn't cut your throat, girl, and get them all off my back?"

A pause. "Because I'm worth something alive. You can buy your way out of trouble using me," she said tiredly. "My father would probably give you a few regiments to attack FirstHive too."

A silence. Keilin could almost hear Cap's mind turning over. "You stay with us, for now," said Cap, and then in an easier tone. "Beywulf, can you rustle us up some food quickly, while I dress Leyla's arm?"

Quietly Bey moved over to the packs. As he passed Keilin, he gave the boy's arm a brief squeeze. Keilin knew what it meant: partly thanks, partly warning.

Before dawn they were away again, moving inland, sticking to the forest margins, avoiding the villages by tedious and hot bushwacking. Once they sighted a party of soldiers, but remained hidden under the trees until they had passed. Keilin had been too tired to think the night before, but now his mind was busy turning over all the revelations of yesterday. His knowledge of politics was slim. In Port Tinarana he'd heard of the Tyrant, yes, but he knew little more. He had heard, and read, more of Arlinn, but he still barely understood the entire thing. He did however know that he'd made a fool of himself. He'd always been wary of talking to girls. He wasn't just wary about princesses, however. He was terrified of them. In Shael's mind, power and authority meant security. In Keilin's mind it meant "avoid at all costs." So he was. With great care. He was also wondering just what had got into him the previous night. Bey was a friend, sure, but when Cap was being like that he was Authority, and Keilin kept his head down and did what he was told. It was a long, hot, hard day, and he had plenty of time to think it all over.