Chapter 3 — Taken
Princess Amara expected her father to be furious.
She was correct.
What she did not expect was to see fear in his eyes.
King Adisa listened without interruption as Amara described the three armed riders, the questions they had asked about the palace, the pursuit through the woods, and the gunshot near the river.
When she finished, the council chamber was silent.
“You left the protected grounds after I specifically ordered you to remain inside them,” he said.
“Yes.”
“You deliberately avoided your guards.”
“Yes.”
“You traveled toward the exact area I told you was dangerous.”
“Near it.”
Her father stared at her.
Amara lowered her eyes. “Yes.”
Queen Nalia sat beside her daughter and took her hand. She said nothing, which made Amara feel worse than any lecture could have.
King Adisa turned to Captain Jabari. “Double the patrols. Nobody from the royal family leaves without an armed escort. Send riders to every coastal village and close the southern roads after dark.”
Jabari nodded.
The King looked back at Amara. “And you will remain within the inner palace until I know who these men are.”
This time Amara did not argue.
For two days, the kingdom searched.
Soldiers found abandoned camps near the coast, footprints, remains of fires, and evidence that more men had been moving inland. The unidentified ship disappeared from the horizon.
Nothing else happened.
By the third day, some ministers began suggesting the strangers had left.
Captain Jabari disagreed.
So did Amara.
She had seen the men herself. They had not looked lost or frightened. They had been studying the roads deliberately.
Someone had sent them.
Or they were preparing something.
On the fourth morning, news arrived that soldiers had captured two suspicious men south of Namba.
By afternoon, another report claimed the foreign ship had been spotted sailing away.
The palace relaxed slightly.
Amara did not.
That evening she stood on her balcony looking toward the distant hills.
Lela joined her.
“You're thinking again.”
“I dislike mysteries.”
“I dislike being shot at.”
“That too.”
“Perhaps they're gone.”
“Perhaps.”
Lela smiled. “That sounded almost optimistic.”
Amara looked at her cousin. “Would you like to ride tomorrow?”
“No.”
“Inside the royal grounds.”
“Still no.”
“With twelve guards.”
“Possibly.”
Amara laughed.
The following morning, they were given permission to ride through the King's northern estate.
Captain Jabari assigned eight soldiers to accompany them.
The route was considered completely safe. It ran through royal farmland and woodland less than an hour from the palace.
Amara complained about the number of guards.
Nobody listened.
For the first hour, the ride was peaceful.
Lela teased Amara about Prince Kofi. Amara threatened to arrange the marriage between Lela and the prince instead. Their guards rode around them, relaxed but watchful.
The road entered a wooded valley.
Amara noticed the silence first.
No birds.
She slowed Sanaa.
Captain Jabari was not with them that morning; he had personally gone south to investigate the captured men. Lieutenant Kato commanded the escort instead.
Amara looked toward him.
“Something is wrong.”
Kato raised his hand.
The riders stopped.
A fallen tree blocked the road ahead.
It was enormous.
And freshly cut.
Kato reached for his sword.
“Turn around.”
The first shot came from the trees.
One of the guards fell from his horse.
Everything happened at once.
Men rushed from both sides of the road.
Horses screamed. Another shot exploded through the valley. Steel struck steel as the royal guards drew weapons.
“Princess, ride!”
Amara turned Sanaa.
Two attackers blocked the road behind them.
There were far more than three this time.
Perhaps fifteen.
Perhaps twenty.
They had been waiting.
Lela screamed as a man grabbed for her reins.
Amara drove Sanaa directly at him.
The mare struck his horse shoulder-first. The rider lost his balance, and Amara hit him across the face with her riding crop.
He fell.
“Move!” she shouted.
Lela followed.
One royal guard opened a path toward the trees.
For several seconds, Amara believed they might escape.
Then another group appeared ahead.
This was not a random attack.
It was an ambush designed specifically to close every road.
Amara jumped from her horse before a man could seize her.
He reached for her arm.
She drove her elbow into his throat.
He staggered backward.
Another grabbed her from behind.
Amara stamped hard on his foot, twisted free, and struck him with the metal handle of her riding crop.
Blood appeared across his mouth.
“You little—”
She hit him again.
A third man came toward her.
Amara picked up a fallen branch and swung it with both hands.
The branch struck his shoulder.
He cursed.
She swung again.
This time he caught it.
Amara kicked him between the legs.
He collapsed.
For one brief, absurd moment she remembered her mother telling her that a princess should always maintain dignity in public.
Amara suspected this was not what Queen Nalia had meant.
“Amara!”
Lela was being dragged from her horse.
Amara ran toward her.
A man stepped between them.
She struck him across the face.
He grabbed her wrist.
Amara bit his hand.
He shouted and released her.
She reached Lela and pulled her free.
“Run!”
They ran toward the trees.
Behind them, the royal guards fought desperately.
Several attackers were already down, but the escort was badly outnumbered.
Amara and Lela reached the edge of the woods.
Then Lela fell.
Amara turned.
One of the attackers had caught her skirt.
Amara ran back without thinking.
She kicked the man's arm and pulled Lela upright.
Another attacker grabbed Amara around the waist.
She screamed, twisted, scratched his face, and slammed the back of her head against his nose.
He dropped her.
Amara hit the ground, rolled, and reached for a sword lying beside a wounded guard.
Her fingers closed around the handle.
The weapon was heavier than she expected.
But she knew how to use it.
Her brothers had taught her secretly years earlier.
The next man who approached stopped when Amara raised the blade.
“Stay away from me.”
He laughed.
That was a mistake.
He reached for her.
Amara slashed.
The blade cut his sleeve and arm.
His laughter disappeared.
A second man approached more carefully.
Then a voice shouted from behind them.
“Don't damage her!”
Amara turned.
The tall stranger from the forest stood near the road.
The same man who had chased them.
Now she understood.
They had been watched since that day.
He pointed directly at her.
“That one. Take her alive.”
Cold fear entered Amara's stomach.
Not kill her.
Take her.
“Who are you?” she demanded.
The man smiled. “Someone who knows an expensive horse when he sees one.”
He still did not know who she was.
That was the only advantage she had.
Amara tightened her grip on the sword.
Two men came toward her.
She backed away.
“Come closer,” she warned, “and one of you will regret it.”
One did.
Amara struck.
He jumped back.
The second man rushed her from the side.
She turned too late.
Something struck her wrist.
The sword fell.
Amara punched him.
Another pair of arms caught her from behind.
She fought wildly.
She kicked, twisted, scratched, bit, and screamed.
It took three men to hold her.
“Stop fighting!”
“No!”
One tried to bind her hands.
Amara kicked him in the knee.
He swore.
The tall man approached.
“She's going to be trouble.”
Amara spat at his feet.
“Yes,” she said. “I am.”
For a moment, he simply stared at her.
Then he laughed.
“Bind her.”
Lela was brought toward them, crying and struggling.
Amara's anger became stronger than her fear.
“Leave her alone!”
“Amara!”
“I said leave her!”
The tall man looked between them.
“Both.”
“No.”
Amara threw herself against the men holding her.
“Take me. Let her go.”
He raised an eyebrow. “Why would I?”
“Because she has no value to you.”
Lela stared at her.
“Amara, don't.”
“She is my servant,” Amara lied quickly. “I am the daughter of a wealthy merchant.”
The leader studied her clothes, jewelry, and horse.
Amara held his gaze.
She would not tell him she was a princess.
Not while she had any choice.
A merchant's daughter might be worth money.
A King's daughter could be worth a kingdom.
The sound of a horn came from far away.
Everyone froze.
Another horn answered.
Royal soldiers.
The attackers reacted immediately.
“Move!”
Amara's heart leapt.
Help was coming.
Men began dragging prisoners toward the western side of the valley.
The remaining royal guards fought harder.
One shouted, “The King is coming!”
The attackers panicked.
Amara saw her opportunity.
She twisted free from one man's grip and ran.
Three steps.
Four.
Five.
A horse appeared beside her.
Someone caught the back of her dress.
The fabric tore.
Amara fell hard onto the ground.
Before she could rise, the tall man seized her.
“No more games.”
She struck him across the face.
His expression hardened.
He lifted her and threw her across the front of a saddle.
Amara screamed and fought, but another man tied her wrists.
The horns were closer now.
She could hear horses.
Many horses.
“Go!”
The attackers fled through a narrow trail hidden among the trees.
Amara lifted her head.
Through the branches behind them, she saw royal riders entering the valley.
Too far.
Captain Jabari was at their front.
“AMARA!”
She heard him.
For the first time since the attack began, terror overwhelmed her anger.
“JABARI!”
She screamed his name until her throat hurt.
The horse beneath her accelerated.
Trees swallowed the valley.
The royal soldiers disappeared from view.
Amara continued struggling until the rope cut painfully into her wrists.
The man controlling the horse pushed her down.
“Stop.”
She ignored him.
He pushed harder.
“You'll fall.”
“Good.”
“You'll break your neck.”
“Better than going wherever you're taking me.”
The riders moved quickly through forest paths prepared in advance.
Amara realized with growing horror that the ambush had been planned carefully.
They knew the roads.
They knew when she was riding.
They knew the royal patrols.
Someone had watched the palace.
Perhaps someone had helped them.
Hours passed.
The forest gave way to rougher country.
Amara had lost sight of Lela.
“Where is my cousin?”
Nobody answered.
“Where is she?”
The tall man finally looked back.
“Alive.”
“If you hurt her—”
“What?”
Amara stared at him.
“I will remember your face.”
He laughed.
“So?”
“So when my family finds you, I will know exactly which man to ask them not to kill quickly.”
His smile faded slightly.
“Who exactly is your family?”
Amara realized her mistake.
She lowered her eyes.
“A merchant.”
“A very important merchant?”
She said nothing.
The man watched her for several seconds.
Then he smiled again.
“We'll find out.”
By sunset, Amara smelled salt.
The sea.
Her stomach tightened.
They were taking her toward the coast.
When darkness came, they reached a hidden cove.
A boat waited near the rocks.
Beyond it, farther offshore, stood the unfamiliar ship.
The same ship her father's fishermen had reported.
Amara stared at it.
Until that moment, some part of her had still believed the royal guard would catch them.
Now she understood.
If they put her aboard that ship, everything changed.
She began fighting again.
“No!”
Two men grabbed her.
Amara kicked one and nearly broke free.
“Hold her!”
She screamed for help.
The empty coast answered.
The men dragged her into the boat.
Amara looked desperately toward the hills.
Somewhere beyond them was her home.
Her parents.
Her brothers and sisters.
Her guards.
Everything she had known since birth.
The boat pushed away from shore.
Amara sat with her wrists bound, breathing hard.
She refused to cry.
Not in front of these men.
Not while they watched.
The tall man sat opposite her.
“You should save your strength.”
Amara looked directly into his eyes.
“You should save your prayers.”
He frowned.
“You're going to need them when my father finds you.”
The man smiled again, but less confidently this time.
Behind Amara, the coast slowly disappeared into darkness.
Ahead waited the ship.
And for the first time in her life, Princess Amara was being carried somewhere she had not chosen to go.