I knew whatever the hard way was, it wouldn’t be good for me, so I raised and lowered my elbows, trying to hit him anywhere that would hurt. Then, when his arm was brought near my mouth, I dug my teeth into his flesh. He shrieked but didn’t stop his motions as he dragged me from the building, my arms and legs bound to each other to prevent me from running.
Exposed to the bright light of the sun, I found myself groaning once again. Mentally, I reviewed the effects of moth flower, but as far as I could remember, they didn’t cause lingering effects. Considering I had conspired with Otho at dawn, I arrived at the conclusion that I hadn’t been knocked out for long and that we were still in the same day.
What did surprise me, however, was the large audience standing in a circle, their dark eyes appraising me as I was dragged to a pole in the center. Whatever this was turning out to be, it couldn’t be good.
The crowd whispered among themselves as my bindings were adjusted to attach to the wooden pole. Their eyes remained fixed on me even as they leaned in to whisper to their friends. I couldn’t help but be dismayed that my one venture into society had ended so poorly. I didn’t even have a chance to practice my spying, and here I was, my life coming to an end in front of the small village of Bru.
Otho would be waiting in five days, and I would never show up. He would think I ran away and was living somewhere happily. Unless, of course, he was the one behind this spectacle and his training me to be a scout was a lie. Either way, it didn’t matter. I was resigned to my fate.
Despite my dismay at the fact that things had ended this way, I didn’t regret anything.
That is, until a blur of man shot into the camp, my eyes catching on his dark hair—jet black and reflective of the hot afternoon sun.
I only had one single second to question what he could possibly be doing here beyond the possibility of him being general for both sides of the war (as I was beginning to assume) when the screaming started.
First, the individuals who had been standing in a circle, intent on watching my demise, began to scatter. Whether they were scared or grabbing weapons, I couldn’t be certain.
The man who had tied me to a pole dove back into the building we had emerged from, which was nothing more than a basic hut. I hoped he wasn’t grabbing a weapon capable of taking down General Otho.
It didn’t matter though, because Otho moved fast, and a blink later, he was behind me, the sound of a knife cutting through the ropes that bound me to the pole tickling my ears. It only took a single swipe, and then I was free, being pulled behind Otho, my legs dragging in the dust.
We started running, him continuously pulling even as I struggled to keep up with his large strides. I had never been a runner, but I was discovering that I would need to devote sometime to becoming stronger when this was over—if it was ever over.
I assumed he would direct us back to the barren land I had traversed that morning in my journey here, back to the front lines. But to my utter surprise, we were heading in the opposite direction.
We passed through the town, which, if I had been on my own, I would have advised against, but I figured that Otho knew what he was doing. The town was small, the buildings a blur in the corner of my vision as he forced the grueling pace.
We were almost out of the town, and the forest rose ahead, which I assumed Otho was aiming for, when I noticed a brown blur out of the corner of my eye. I turned just in time to watch an arrow sink into the muscle in Otho’s shoulder.
I grimaced, my breath catching as I waited for him to call out, yell in pain, and fall to the ground. But he didn’t.
While he did stumble for a moment when the pointed end entered his flesh, he didn’t say a word, and continued his pace.
I was still reeling, trying to figure out why the man in front of me wasn’t writhing in the dirt in pain when we crossed into the shadows of the trees. But wisely, Otho didn’t stop. He kept running, kept pulling my arm even as I stumbled over roots and tree branches.
Having barely eaten all day, and having only consumed a small amount of water after my other adventure, it wasn’t long before my steps slowed, a pain shooting up my ribs, which had me grabbing my side.
Otho glanced over at me, his gaze catching on where my hands gripped my sides. “Are you injured?”
“Says the man who has an arrow in his shoulder.” I don’t know why the words came out of my mouth, but they did, and I couldn’t take them back now. Otho’s pace slowed.
“And I asked a question that you didn’t answer.” His voice was firm.
I breathed for a moment, using the fact that I was stillpanting to my advantage. But I continued to avoid the question, focusing instead on what I was really dying to know. “You said you wouldn’t come for me.”
He frowned, his gaze still appraising me instead of connecting with my own. “I know.”
“But you did.”
“I KNOW!” he growled.
He still refused to look me in the eye, his eyes scanning the trees. Though he wasn’t panting like I was, I could tell he was stressed about something thanks to the empathy book.
“Why?”
He didn’t answer, still scouring the woods for something I couldn’t see.
I opened my mouth to press further, but was interrupted by a shiver that went down my spine. Something was going on here. Not here, in the woods, between the two of us, but in Ralheim. Something larger than I had been led to believe.
