Chapter 11
Eleven
Bandits in black-and-brown garb popped out of the trees in front of them, launching Hugo’s heart into his throat as the horse reared.
Prince Everand tightened his arm around Hugo’s waist while the other hand gripped the reins.
Sunlight flashed off swords, and a deafening bang from a pistol sent birds winging into the air, away from the outbreak of fighting.
The two guards who had been following them shouted and rushed forward, but the closeness of the trees made it nearly impossible to get at the bandits who were attempting to swarm them. It also didn’t help that Hugo was crowding Everand, making it difficult for the prince to fight back.
“Where’s my rifle?” Hugo demanded. Not that he wished to shoot anyone, but he could at least use it as a club or brandish it to scare the bandits.
“Tucked behind me,” Everand answered, still fighting to get control of the startled horse.
“Give me the reins. You get the rifle or your sword. Something!” Hugo snatched the reins from the prince’s hands and turned all his attention to settling the horse and moving aside to allow the other guards into the fray.
Sweat poured down the sides of Hugo’s face as he wrangled the powerful beast under them. His heart raced, but his mind remained clear. He might not be a soldier or a trained royal guard, but he knew his duty was obvious: protect Prince Everand with his life.
But that was easier said than done. The horse finally responded to his command, and he got it to retreat from the half dozen horseless bandits who were attacking, allowing the guards to move forward to protect the prince.
However, as they started to breathe, five more bandits raced out from the foliage on horseback, ready to capture them.
Horribly outnumbered and facing probable death, there was only one workable solution. Run.
Hugo jerked the horse sharply around and jammed his heels into its flanks, setting it off at a breakneck speed. Behind him, the rifle cracked as the prince fired.
“Where are your bullets?” the prince demanded.
Hugo didn’t chance a glance over his shoulder. He could hear the thunder of hooves on the soft earth. “Left jacket pocket.”
A hand shoved into his pocket and dug about before coming up with the shells. “Do you have a plan?” Everand inquired calmly even as Hugo heard him inserting the bullet into the chamber and sliding home the bolt.
“Escape? Escape as fast as we can?” he replied, not sure if he was making a statement or asking a question. “Finding the rest of your hunting party would be nice, too.”
Everand hummed in agreement and fired off another round. “In that case, you might want to turn more to the south.”
“South? I don’t even know which way we’re headed now.”
“Clearly. You really have no sense of direction, and it is so adorable.” The gun chunked loudly behind Hugo as the prince expelled the empty shell so he could load another shot.
“Everand!” Hugo shouted, exasperated. He didn’t even notice that he’d failed to use his title or, better yet, call him Your Highness.
“Forgive me. Head more to the right.”
Hugo followed his suggestion, but he knew deep down that they were running out of time.
The prince’s horse might be strong and fast, but it was still carrying two full-grown men compared to the horses pursuing them with single riders.
Everand’s horse was tiring. It would be only a matter of time before their attackers caught up.
Around him, the forest had become a blur of green and brown.
He was careful to avoid low branches, assuming the prince would have all his attention on the bandits behind them rather than on the forest path in front of them.
More shots cracked from the rifle, and others answered.
Hugo’s entire body flinched with each one, half expecting to be hit with piercing pain at any second from a bullet slamming into his back or shoulder.
A shadow rose in Hugo’s peripheral vision on the left, and he violently jerked the horse toward the right, narrowly missing the swipe of a bandit’s sword. They’d caught up. His one hope was to lose them in the thicker trees.
“Duck as low as you can!” Hugo shouted as he plunged into the dark shadows of the forest. They slowed quite a bit, but the branches were lower, making it so that the horse could barely make it through.
Everand’s hand returned to Hugo’s waist, holding on to him as they ducked together under the tree limbs.
Hugo kept his focus on trying to find a path through the woods.
He had no idea where they were or even if they were getting closer to the rest of the prince’s men. They had to hold on a bit longer.
They burst into a small meadow, and Hugo pushed the prince’s horse into a breakneck gallop. But it was too late. The horse was exhausted. The other bandits had caught up with them.
“Hugo!” Everand shouted. The arm on his waist pulled him off balance, ripping him out of the saddle. Yet as he tumbled, pain slashed through his right arm from the bandit’s blade.
They crashed together in a heap and rolled.
More pain exploded through Hugo’s body, and he groaned, but there was no time to catch his breath.
He awkwardly got to his knees and searched for the prince, who was standing over him with the rifle tucked into his shoulder.
The only problem was that by Hugo’s count, he was out of bullets.
Five riders wearing black cloths pulled up covering half their faces circled them.
“Let him go. Your business is with me,” Prince Everand barked.
The bandits stopped their horses, and the one with the broadest shoulders chuckled, his hands resting on the saddle horn. “No. I think you might be better behaved if we bring your friend along.”
The prince had no chance to argue or negotiate. Another rider reached into a pouch on his waist, grabbed something, and tossed a white powder at their faces.
“What the—” Hugo muttered, wincing as the stuff stung his eyes and tickled his nose.
“Hugo, don’t breathe!”
But it was too late. Hugo sneezed, and the world went black.
Hugo’s head throbbed as he woke to a much darker sky and his hands bound with a rough rope behind him.
Squinting and blinking against the lingering pain in his eyes, Hugo looked around to find that he was at the edge of a camp where the black-masked bandits were now huddled close to a campfire.
One person appeared to be working on roasting some rabbits while two others watched, offering advice on how to cook them.
Another group was sitting a distance away, talking quietly amongst themselves.
Judging by their expressions, the conversation seemed more serious than their next meal.
As Hugo’s foggy brain climbed above the pain and confusion, he remembered what had happened. These bandits had chased him and Prince Everand until they’d fallen from his horse.
But where was the prince now?
Hugo sat on the ground, leaning on a tree, his hands and ankles bound by rope. There was no sign of the prince. Had the royal guard already rescued him while leaving Hugo behind?
No. Absolutely not. He refused to believe Prince Everand would have left him. He might not know what to think of the man, but he was sure he would’ve never left Hugo.
Maybe he was somewhere close, but Hugo couldn’t see him because of how he was positioned. The bandits had left him on the edge of the camp with him partially turned away from them as if Hugo wasn’t permitted to see the camp cook’s special seasonings for roasted rabbit.
“Pr—” Hugo cut himself off at the last second.
What if they didn’t know Everand was a prince?
What if they thought he was just a rich noble?
If they discovered the truth, Everand could be in even more danger.
But he had been traveling with the royal guard.
Hugo mentally growled. He didn’t know what was going on or what to think.
It was best to be cautious and not make their situation worse.
“Ev?” called out in a rough whisper. “Ever?” he tried, mentally wincing at the nicknames. What the devil was he supposed to call a prince and not have his head chopped off?
“I think I prefer Ev, if I’m to have a say in the matter,” the prince stated in a normal voice, sounding very close.
“Where are you?” Hugo demanded, still whispering.
“Other side of the same tree.”
Hugo heaved a heavy sigh of relief. There was something comforting in knowing he wasn’t alone. “Sorry about my impropriety. I just wasn’t sure if they’d guessed your identity, and I didn’t want to put you in danger if they didn’t know.”
“I appreciate your efforts, but they know who I am.”
Hugo hummed softly. “Ah. It was probably because of your shiny buttons.”
Something like a choked laugh came from the other side of the tree. “If you’re going to make fun of my buttons, you can go back to calling me Your Highness.”
“Forgive me, Your Highness,” Hugo replied with a smile.
“I’ve changed my mind. I find I like how it sounds when you call me Ev.”
“Perhaps, but it is best if I stick to your proper address.”
“No fun.” Everand pouted.
Insanely enough, Hugo had to admit that he was having a bit of fun despite the bandits holding them hostage, and not knowing what was going to happen to them next.
Maybe he wasn’t as scared as he should be because Prince Everand didn’t sound all that worried.
His guards had to be searching for them and were likely close to finding them even now.
It was only a matter of waiting to be rescued.
“Hugo?” Everand started again, but this time his voice was far more solemn. “How is your arm?”
“It’s not all that bad. The pain gets lost in all the other aches and pains from tumbling off the horse.”
“I am sorry for getting you mixed up in all this. I would never have intentionally put you in a dangerous situation.”
“This isn’t your fault, Your Highness—”
“Ev,” the prince corrected.
Hugo smiled and gave a little sigh. “It’s not your fault, Ev. You couldn’t have known the bandits would strike just then.”
“Actually, these men aren’t bandits.”
“What?” Hugo twisted, trying to see around the tree so he could look Everand in the face, and almost fell over. “What do you mean?”
“They’re not bandits. They’re scouts from the kingdom of Wulia, sent by King Victor.
Father sent me out to accompany one of several patrols to hunt them down.
The hope was to capture them and force King Victor to the negotiating table rather than go back to war.
I called them bandits because I didn’t want you to panic. ”
Hugo closed his eyes and took a couple of deep breaths to calm the fear bubbling up within him.
Enemy soldiers were far more frightening than mere bandits.
It also meant that it was imperative that Prince Everand escape.
If they took him to Wulia and gave him to King Victor, Wulia and his own home of Branem would definitely go to war.
Yet, Everand didn’t sound panicked and terrified.
The Wulia scouts could have easily killed them both by now but hadn’t.
It looked as if they might still be in Shaggy Butternut Forest. The royal guards had to be searching for them.
The important thing was to remain calm and keep their spirits up, which was what Everand had been doing with his flirty comments.
“You know,” Hugo stated, “I don’t think I’m going to apologize now.”
“Apologize? For what?”
“After our lunch together, I told my family that you were an utter ass, among other unfavorable things, and I was beginning to think that maybe I’d misjudged you. Now, I’m quite sure that my initial assessment was quite correct. You are an ass.”
Silence stretched for a couple of seconds, and Hugo feared he’d overstepped, when a harsh bark of laughter broke out from the other side of the tree. Everand laughed so hard that he snorted, which only got them both laughing, the sound echoing across the camp.
“Hey! Quiet or I’ll gag you,” the cook at the campfire bellowed, waving a knife at them.
Snickers escaped them, dissolving into giggles.
“Never change, Hugo. You are a diamond of the first water, and you deserve to have someone worthy of you. I almost wish it were me, but you’re right. I am an ass, though I have a few redeeming qualities.”
Hugo’s mind wandered to the feel of the prince pressed tightly against them as they were riding.
He’d felt more than a few redeeming qualities then, but he would not make such a comment.
If anything, the prince’s comments convinced Hugo that the man he’d met at lunch weeks ago was little more than an act, a facade Everand used to scare people away.
The person he was with now felt far more genuine.
“I’m sure you have many redeeming qualities, Your Highness.”
“Ev,” the prince corrected.
“While we’re not fated to be husbands, I could always use a friend.”
“A true friend is always welcome,” Everand agreed, though there was something else lingering in his voice. Hugo almost thought it might be disappointment, but that was nonsensical. There was no way Prince Everand could ever desire more from him.
“So, friend, are we to wait until your guards find and rescue us?”
“Nope. We’re escaping.”