The man steps out from behind another horse, and enough firelight reaches his features for me to recognize him.
Niall.
He’s not alone either. That other sandy-haired soldier is just behind him. Their expressions are in shadow, and I have no idea what they intend, but I’m not an idiot.
“Home,” I say. I cluck to Teddy, glad I’m on a horse and they’re not.
The horse moves away at a sedate walk, but the men stride after me. “You people killed my brother,” Niall says, his words slurring, making it hard to parse out what he’s saying. “They killed Brinley’s father, too.”
My heart trips with the first spark of fear. In my forge back home, I’d deal with drunk or rowdy travelers all the time—when I wasn’t dealing with my father himself. But at home, I had heavy tools and hot iron and ways to defend myself. If I got hurt, I could run to Callyn’s.
Out here, I have nothing. And if I brawl with a soldier, I know two things for sure: one, it’ll reflect poorly on me, which means it’ll probably reflect poorly on Tycho.
Two, I’ll lose.
I nudge Teddy with my heel, but he’s older and slower, and part of the reason he’s a steady mount is that he’snotgoing to take off at a gallop. I’m not sure I could hang on even if he did.
“Hey!” Niall snaps. “I’m talking to you, blacksmith.”
Well, he’s talkingatme. My brain has stopped processing what he’s saying at all. I give Teddy a solid kick, and he grunts, then lumbers into a trot.
Relief blooms in my chest, but it lasts exactly one second. Niall grabs my ankle, and the other man—Brinley?—grabs Teddy’s rein. The horse stumbles to a halt, turning a bit, and I realize they intend to drag me right off his back.
I draw back my leg and kick out hard, and I have the satisfaction of hearing Niall grunt. Good. I hope I got him in the face. His grip slackens and I draw back to kick him again.
But I forgot about Brinley. He grabs hold of my forearm and jerkshard.
That almost gets me out of the saddle. But Teddy has had enough of this nonsense, and he sidesteps to compensate for my rapidly shifting weight, nearly stepping on the drunken men who are trying to drag me off his back.
It gives me a moment of distraction, and I grab an arrow from my quiver. I can’t get the bow over my shoulder fast enough, but I doubt I’d escape a hanging if Ishotthem.
Instead, I draw back my arm and whip the arrow square across Niall’s face.
He shouts in surprise and falls back, swearing so loudly that we’re going to draw the attention of the soldiers around the fires.
I don’t wait for Brinley to retaliate. I use the momentum of my first swing to come right back around. I almost get the soldier in the neck—but he deflects, catching the arrow.
He’s ready for me to tussle for it, but I let it go, slam my heel into Teddy’s side, and jerk the reins to the right.
Teddy leaps forward into a brisk . . . ?trot.
“Please,” I breathe. They’re going to chase me. I know they are. Even on foot, they can chase him at a trot. “Please.” My breathing is shaking, and I dig my heel into him again.
Then, blessedly, Teddy stretches his neck out and eases into a rolling canter. Somewhere behind me, Molly calls out my name, but I don’t stop. I can’t risk it.
In seconds, we’re away from the stream and the campfires, and we’re cantering through the pitch-black darkness of the woods. This is dangerous as hell, but so are the drunk men who were about to rip me off the back of this horse.
I have tothink. I have to figure out what to do. My breathing is so loud that it blocks out the sound of anything else. I know the way back to the castle—Ithink—but I’m worried Niall and Brinley are getting on their own horses to give chase.
A bigger part of me is worried that other soldiers will join them to help. I whipped Niall across the face, and I have no way to explain what he was doing.
I choke back the panic before it can form. I should have followed my instincts this afternoon. Or I should have gone back to the Shield House when the sun set.
Honestly, I should have made amends with Prince Rhen instead of telling him that Ihatehim, because whatever happens here is going to come out poorly for me. I’ll end up dead or beaten or berated—or even just humiliated. I have no idea how such a lighthearted evening turned into something so terrible.
A frigid wind blasts my cheeks and I shiver again. My chest clenches and my eyes sting.Tycho. Please come back.
But of course he’s not going to appear. I might as well beg the stars for help.
