It was a breathtaking, utterly unique experience.
She wished Fallon was here to see it, but perhaps he was noticing something similar right now wherever he was.
The clip-clop of horse’s hooves reached her. The rider had been partially responsible for helping her escape Braden. She’d have to give them her thanks later.
Right now, she had to decide if she wanted to call this person’s attention to her. She was still in the same situation as before. Alone, lightly armed, and with the knowledge that no one was supposed to have left the camp.
The glow of the city beside her dimmed as the rider drew near, a torch in hand. Shea stepped back into the shadows, hoping to get a glimpse of the person. Perhaps that would help her make a decision.
She didn’t have long to wait as a trio of riders came into view. The first two men tugged at her memory, but she still couldn’t place them. The last one, however, had her stepping out of her darkened corner.
“Charles.”
He, at least, she recognized. He was probably out here looking for Clark. While still against orders, it was understandable he wouldn’t want to abandon his friend. The men with him were regular attendees of the beast class.
The men looked around, their eyes searching in the dim light. Shea walked closer to them, her movement calling their attention.
Charles eyes widened in surprise. “Telroi, what are you doing out of camp?”
Shea gave him a sheepish grin. “Would you believe I got lost?”
The three men gave each other a long look.
“It would be very difficult to believe that,” Charles said. His two friends steered their horses in a wide circle to either side of Shea, until the three stood one in front and two on either side.
Shea watched them carefully. Perhaps Braden had her paranoid, but the actions struck her as vaguely threatening.
“What are you and your friends doing out here?” Shea asked, looking around. “I thought Caden ordered no one to leave camp.”
She knew he had, because she was the one to give the order.
Charles tilted his head, the look in his eyes flat even as he regarded her with little expression.
Now that she thought about it, Charles had always been Clark’s friend. Not hers.
“Yes, he did, didn’t he?” Charles said, unsheathing his sword from where it was strapped to his saddle. Shea took a careful step backward, her eyes checking on the two other men. “I suppose lying at this late stage would just be a waste of energy. You wouldn’t believe me anyway.”
“Not now that you’ve drawn that sword,” Shea told him.
A grin flashed across his face and then was gone, leaving his expression as dead and lifeless as before.
She didn’t bother asking him what he was doing. That much was obvious. He and these men planned to kill her. Braden was seeming more like the better bet.
“You’re the one responsible for the assassination attempt during the tournament,” Shea said.
“Took you long enough. You really are dumb, even for a throwaway.”
Right now, she didn’t disagree with him. She’d called his attention to her, knowing no one was supposed to be out of the camp, because she thought he was a friend. More evidence that her people skills were no better, even after all these months.
“You never even suspected I was anything other than a friend,” he said. He seemed very like a stranger in that moment. Not the kind person willing to help scouts learn a beast’s habits. “I must admit to some anxiety after the first attempt on your life failed, but then you just kept coming back and even recommended me for more responsibility.”
Shea kept a cautious eye on the other two. They watched her with small smirks.
“I do have to thank you for this opportunity though,” Charles said, drawing her attention. “I had hoped to kill you. The Warlord will be just a bonus.”
Shea didn’t bother to keep the contempt off her face. “As if you could.”
“You were right; he isn’t dead,” Charles said in a soft voice. Shea felt her heart lurch. “One of my men spotted him earlier. I’ll be sure to send him to you shortly.”
Charles struck out with his blade, a clean, crisp movement that was startling in its speed. Shea barely jumped away, a thin slice of pain opening on her shoulder. The wound wasn’t deep. Given the lack of concern as Charles watched Shea retreat until her back was against the wall, he had little worry that she would escape this encounter alive. He was toying with her.
Desperation and panic fought for space in her head. She struggled to remember what Trenton had taught her, what he had drilled into her time and again during training.
Her opponent had both an extended reach with his sword, and a horse that could trample her to death. She was also outnumbered.
One hand slipped behind her to withdraw the short dagger she kept on her at all times. She’d prefer a sword, but she hadn’t thought to bring hers when she slipped out of camp. When Trenton found out, he would skin her.
She held it close to her side.
“She’s armed,” the man on her right said. “End this, so we can move on.”
There was a small thump as an arrow embedded itself into the throat of the man who had just spoken.
Shea didn’t wait, taking advantage of their surprise and darting in the direction of the fallen man. His horse stamped and whirled. Shea dodged it as Charles and the other man kicked their horses after her.
She ducked past the horse, noting Braden standing bow in hand, notching another arrow.
She’d never make it to him before one of the other two ran her down. Her feet turned toward a gap between two buildings. She ran along the small space even as the sound of hooves pounding against cobblestone followed her. She burst onto the next street.
“Shea, follow me,” Braden said from several yards down the street. He’d guessed her route and followed on a different path. She hesitated, her suspicions of before no less valid. “Don’t be stupid. I just saved your ass.”
He had.
They’d stand a better chance if they were together.
Her decision made, she ran towards him and followed when he turned and made his way through the city. It wasn’t long until the sound of pursuit followed, chasing them through the city—gradually herding them in a certain direction.
“How are they doing this?” Shea asked, leaning against the side of a building. She was out of breath and beginning to think there might not be a way out of this.
Braden shook his head. “They must have more men out here.”
“How many people missed head count?” Shea asked.
“Ten.”
She dropped her head back and looked up at the inky darkness. Only small patches of a starry night sky could be seen. Ten. He might as well have said a hundred.
“We’re making a lot of noise. Eventually Caden and the rest of the men will hear and come investigating,” Braden said.
Shea preferred not to rely on ifs and shoulds. There was no guarantee they’d hear all this racket, and even if they did, chances were Shea and Braden would be dead long before then.
“You shouldn’t have run off and called attention to yourself.” Disapproval colored Braden’s tone.
Shea shot him dark look. “I’m sorry. When someone threatens to kill me, I tend to try to remove myself from the situation.”