“They’re shooting from the north,” says Thorin. He points. “Head south. Reed, take point.”
“You’rerunning?” says Francis.
“You are too.” I grab hold of Nook’s sleeve and tug. “Come on. We need to take cover.”
The water is deeper than I imagined, swelling almost to my knees when we leap out of the wagon, mud grabbing my boots underneath and making it nearly impossible to walk. It’s no wonder the horses couldn’t pull the wagon. Reed is in front of me, Francis to my left, Nook to my right. That dagger is still clutched in his hand, and I wonder if he has any idea how to use it. Thorin is at my back, and I hear Bert splash through the water a moment later.
But then he cries out, and I begin to turn.
Thorin puts a hand against my shoulder, propelling me forward, and we finally move slightly uphill, out of the water and into the cloaking darkness of the trees. The mud is still deep, and I’m gasping from the effort of getting this far. I still have an arrow wound on my leg from the last time I was chased through the Wilds, and it’s barely healed.
I cough hard. I’m not going to be able to run. I’m not.
Then we break past a copse of trees and find ourselves facing a line of four heavily armed men, and I realize it’s not going to matter if I can run at all.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
Harristan
The men are in heavy hooded cloaks, and combined with the dark and the rain, I don’t recognize them.
Their crossbows are plain as day, though.
There are only four of them, but they’re all well armed, and we aren’t. At my side, Nook is still clutching that dagger, but he’s holding it up in front of him, as if it’s going to stop the bolt of a crossbow. Bert must have grabbed an ax from the floor of the wagon, because he has one clutched in both hands. Reed has me half blocked, and I can sense more than feel Thorin still behind me.
One of the cloaked men gestures with his crossbow. “Lay down your weapons. We’ll take the king, and the rest of you can go unharmed.”
I recognize his voice, but I don’t place it until Thorin says, “Lennard, I wouldn’t expect you to turn on the king for silver.”
“I’ve seen the proof of what the king was doing. So have you, Reed.”
Proof.I need to know what “proof” they have—because I’ve never poisoned anyone. I have no idea what the consuls are telling the people that could have swayed opinion this quickly.
I’ll probably find out from a cell in the Hold.
Hopefully not while I’m hanging from a rope in the middle of the Royal Sector.
“Any proof they have isfalse,” I say. “You were sworn tome. This is an act of treason. You will lay downyourweapons.”
One of the other men draws back his hood, and I recognize Wadestrom, another one of my guards. His crossbow is steady, but he doesn’t meet my eyes. Instead, he looks at the rebels standing beside us. “You three have nothing to do with this. Lay down the weapons and get out of here.”
Beside me, Nook is shaking, but he doesn’t move. Neither does Francis.
Bert is the one who looks like he’s wavering. His breathing is shuddering.
“If you lay down that ax, he’ll shoot you in the back,” says Thorin. He’s glaring at Wadestrom, and he sounds disgusted.
The third cloaked man says, “Our word is good. We only came for the king.”
I recognizehisvoice, I think. Jarrett. Another guardsman.
Bert whimpers.
“Don’t do it,” says Reed.
“My wife is waiting for me,” Bert whispers.
“Don’t put down that ax!” Thorin snaps.
