The Prince turned to Tomaz. “And I thank you, too, Tomaz. I am in your debt as well. Thrice over, it would appear.”
Tomaz inclined his head solemnly, accepting the Prince’s thanks. The big man’s eyes followed him as he turned once more to look at the city.
“You were telling the truth,” the Prince said blankly. “And this time there can be no doubt. The Seeker told me, before he locked me away. Told me everything about the assassination, about what my….”
He fell silent, but what he had meant to say hung in the air, whole and complete even though he hadn’t finished it:about what my Mother had commanded. He felt more than saw the Exiles exchange a glance. After a moment of tension, Leah cleared her throat noisily.
“Come on,” she said, the barest hint of softness creeping into her voice. She cleared her throat again, roughly this time, and the softness was gone. “We won’t be alone for long. Word will go out soon and we’ll be followed. No doubt they’re still investigating the Inner City, assuming we couldn’t get past the gates. But eventually they’ll realize we escaped, or that Seeker will wake up and put the pieces together. I think we can anticipate scouting parties within the hour, though I don’t think they’ll range very far from the city initially. We need to get far away from Banelyn, get around the western side of Lake Chartain, and disappear into the wilderness for a bit. They never patrol alone, there’s always three groups that….”
It was Tomaz who cleared his throat this time, and she broke off, pink spots of emotion appearing on her cheeks as she realized she’d been rambling. The Prince understood, though. She was uneasy and coping with it by talking too much about things that didn’t need to be discussed.
“We’ll leave once we’ve caught our breath,” the big man said. Leah began to move off, but suddenly went down on one knee with a low moan of pain. The Prince moved toward her in alarm, but it was Tomaz who reached her first. He calmly picked her up and brought her back into the center of the tangled den of trees with a look of fond concern.
“What happened?” the Prince asked.
“Concerned for me, princeling?”
The Prince, despite the teasing tone of her voice, reached out through the Raven Talisman and felt for her life.
—swirls of green and silver light—the sound of steel cutting silk—the silent second after a symphony ends—the smell of honey and newly trodden dust—new pain, but manageable—grim laughter, quiet wonder—
He pulled back; she was whole… wounded, but whole. She was strong and would recover. There was a small patch of blood on the side of her Commons shirt. The big man noticed it at the same time the Prince did.
“Ribs?” Tomaz asked.
“Just a slice,” she said. “Probably good to do a stitch or two, though.”
“Then we’ll do it now,” he said, in a voice that brooked no argument. “We are far enough away to spend the next few hours here. They need to finish searching the city and the surrounding towns before they come for us. And if we’re lucky, Trudy will send them north for a time.”
“Trudy?” the Prince asked.
“The Seekers aren’t the only ones with spies,” Tomaz said.
“Fine. But only if the princeling washes those cuts on his wrists. And binds them, too—tightly. And checks the older wounds, make sure they’re healing.”
“Fine, fine,” the Prince said. “I agree.”
Mollified, Leah allowed Tomaz to lead them further into the woods. Soon they came upon a woven thicket created out of a large grove of trees and bushes that had grown together, creating a kind of living cave. The three of them managed to prod the horse, Trudger, through the briars, where they found the second horse, Tomaz’s charger, already tied to a tree and cropping the grass.
Tomaz quickly backtracked to cover their trail, and then they unrolled some blankets and collapsed on the hard ground. Tomaz went to his pack, moving quickly but with a calm assurance. He threw a second blanket to the Prince as he pulled out a needle and thread and began a small fire to heat water.
“Wash those cuts quickly and then try to get some sleep,” he said. “I’ll wake you when it’s time to move.”
The Prince took the small cake of soap and the waterskin and scrubbed his wrists before wrapping them in strips of cloth. He pulled up his shirt to check the wounds he’d received fighting the Death Watchmen and saw they were healing into fine, puckered lines. There was nothing he could do for his ankle; though, the extra week of forced rest in the Seeker’s dungeon had actually left it feeling almost as good as new.
He dropped the soap and skin next to the saddlebags and curled up in the blanket at the base of a gnarled oak tree, just intending to sit and rest. Before he knew it, he fell into a dark, dreamless sleep.
When he woke, he felt warm and comfortable, and there was a glowing heat pressing against the side of his body. Slowly, very slowly, he opened his eyes.
Above him, firelight played off the webbed canopy of branches that made up their living cave. On his right was Tomaz, stoking a small, smokeless fire.
He tried to rise, but his body ached, and he sat back down again.
“Rest while you can, princeling,” Tomaz said. “You’ve been asleep for barely an hour. We have time yet before we have to move, and we have a long journey ahead of us. Best to rest as much as possible.”
“Aren’t we being pursued?” he asked. “Why did you light a fire? Won’t they be able to track us by the smoke?”
Tomaz grinned and shook his head, and then held a finger to his lips. The Prince fell silent and listened… and heard soft rain falling outside their small living cave. The canopy of trees above them was so tightly woven that none of the water made it through to them, but ran off to either side.
