The archers faltered, and the emissary looked confused, but they obeyed orders. They had to. The only ones who outranked me were?—
“Archers at the ready! Protect your prince!” my father bellowed.
“No!”
My plan wasn’t working. They weren’t going to talk to me while Uttin was coming to protect me.
“Uttin! Stop! They’re my people!” I tried, but he either couldn’t hear me or he didn’t care.
I could either hope to reach the emissary in time to explain, or go to Uttin to protect him. They wouldn’t fire if I stood in their way. It was risky—if they fired by accident or tried to kill him before I reached him, I could be hurt—but I knew in my gut if they killed him, I wouldn’t survive. I had to protect the barbarian who protected me.
Pulling my horse around, I headed back in Uttin’s direction and hurriedly asked the mare, “If you can go any faster, please do. I need to get to him.”
She whinnied and surprisingly, her stride lengthened as she picked up the pace. I rushed for Uttin, white noise filling my ears as I heard my father screaming behind me and the rush of hoof beats as the battalion swarmed forward. Maybe he thoughtI wanted to lead the charge. Or maybe he thought I was insane. Either way, it wasn’t good.
Unwilling to hurt Uttin, I dropped my weapons as we got close to him, and when we were finally in range, I threw myself off the back of the stallion and tackled him.
Probably not the best idea, granted, but I wanted to cover his body with mine in case the archers had already fired. We hit the ground hard, Uttin’s arms wrapping around me protectively, his body taking most of the impact. It knocked the wind out of the both of us, leaving us stunned long enough for me to lose track of what was happening until we were surrounded. Barbarians on one side, my people on the other, all with weapons raised at the ready.
“Stop!”
Uttin and I shouted it together, causing both sides to pause. I was still breathless and shaken, but my one concern was Uttin’s safety. I tried to keep my body on top of his, but he kept trying to flip me to hide me instead. It ended up being a wrestling match that stunned our people enough to halt the call for blood.
“Zakai. What in the world are you doing?” Father demanded incredulously.
“Trying to protect him,” I snarled, shoving Uttin’s shoulder. “Will you stop?”
He answered in my tongue, his expression fiercely determined. “No! It is my job to protect you!”
I couldn’t help it. The situation was serious, deadly even, but we were so busy trying to protect each other that neither was doing a good job. I started laughing until tears streamed down my cheeks and my sides hurt, and still I couldn’t stop.
A familiar feminine voice, the voice of reason in our family, spoke above my laughter, her tone clearly amused. “I think perhaps, dear one, that it’s time to admit it.”
“Admit… what?” I asked between gasping laughter.
“I told your father to approach more cautiously. We had no knowledge of how you were being treated. He chose not to listen to me.”
Father’s sigh was long-suffering. “Yes, yes. It seems you were right. Son, are you well?”
“I’m fine,” I answered as Uttin cautiously helped me to my feet.
He hovered, and I could tell with the way his hand was outstretched that he was ready to pull me out of danger at a moment’s notice, but I waved him off. Had I known both my parents were coming, I would have just demanded to speak with them. My mother could be reasoned with where my father couldn’t.
Wiping tears off my cheeks, I looked around. We were still surrounded on all sides, though weapons were lowered to give us breathing room. Orthorr looked confused and concerned until Uttin spoke to translate for him. He was the only one in the clan who’d bothered to learn my tongue.
Sliding off her horse, which stood a head and a half shorter than the barbarian stallions, my mother nudged soldiers aside to approach me. Father made a noise of protest, but she ignored him, wrapping her arms around me in a tight hug.
“Oh, my heart. I was so worried for you.”
Her familiar perfume wrapped around me, and I let out a sigh, hugging her back and closing my eyes. While I wished to stay with Uttin, I could admit that I missed my family very much. It would have hurt me to leave them forever.
“Weapons away,” Orthorr ordered. “Uttin. Can you speak for us?”
Uttin, who still stood close to my back, grunted his agreement, translating as Orthorr greeted my parents.
“It is an honor to have you. We are the Northern clan. Welcome…”
The emissary took a step forward, his chin lifted in that superior way that made me want to punch him. “You are in the presence of the King of Al Nuzem, King Zohaib Khan, and her royal highness, Queen Raiza. You will bow?—”
