30 Hugo
Hugo
Hugo had felt so comfortable around Eira this past week, but he’d never felt more awkward in his life as he sat across from
Princess Evangeline, scowling at him as Eira stomped into the tavern’s garden.
“You going to go get her?” Evangeline said, ankles still crossed on the table in front of her, arms now crossed as well, as
malice radiated from every inch of her.
“I’m going to give her a second,” Hugo answered.
Evangeline scoffed and rolled her eyes, looking away from him.
“Did you know about her magic before you fled the capital?” Hugo asked, his curiosity about the bounds of Eira’s secrets getting
the better of him.
Evangeline turned to him as the hairs on the back of his neck prickled. Hugo knew that feeling; it was the feeling of being
watched. He glanced around the room quickly, but no one was paying attention to him. Still, something didn’t feel quite right.
Had he seen that brown-haired woman in the corner before?
She sat with a man, her cheeks flushed, and an empty jug of ale sat in front of her.
She could be anyone, but she did remind him of someone he’d seen in Cilirien when he’d first arrived to find Eira.
Or he was being paranoid? Cilirien wasn’t far from where they were; she could easily be a merchant in the area, or a fellow traveler who happened to be going the same way.
“I didn’t know she was a witch,” Evangeline admitted, and Hugo’s attention snapped back to her. “But you remember, Commander,
it didn’t really matter if you were a witch or not back then.”
The princess was right. Sometimes people’s abilities were more likely to be obvious, but most witches hadn’t really talked
about their magic if they were members of a noble family, and they certainly hadn’t discussed it with their guards. It was
only after the revolution that it became more important, and far more dangerous.
“How do you live with yourself?” Evangeline asked. “Knowing how many people you killed? And for this.” She spread her arms,
and Hugo knew she was referring to all of it, every horrible thing the Iron Empire had done.
“I don’t sleep much,” he answered.
“I can tell,” she sneered. “Your dark circles look terrible.”
“I think we need to actually square away this hatred toward each other, for Eira’s sake,” Hugo said.
“Why should I? You destroyed my life,” Evangeline said bluntly.
“For Eira,” Hugo answered. “And for what we still need to do.”
“Which is . . . what, exactly?” the princess said, uncrossing her ankles and leaning over the table.
“The Iron Empire needs to be stopped,” he said, and Evangeline laughed.
“You want to overthrow the usurpers? You want to overthrow . . . yourself? That’s rich.”
Hugo looked out the doorway, wondering how long Eira was going to stay outside. “The Corisians and the Osnians are both hesitant to work with the Iron Empire,” Hugo continued. “There may be an opportunity to reforge an alliance with the De Clare dynasty at the helm and stop the Iron Empire.”
“I want you to tell me what changed your mind,” Evangeline demanded. “I think you owe me that much, after what you did.”
“Evangeline, I didn’t kill your family,” he said, glancing at the front door as it opened. Two men leaving the tavern, not Eira coming back.
“Nope, but you may as well have,” she said and then stopped, waiting for his response.
“The lord general is up to something, and I think it’s bad. The crops are rotting, the water is going bad, the Corisians are
apparently already attacking . . . something is wrong in Astra. It started when the Iron Empire took over, but it’s only been
getting worse.”
“Huh,” Evangeline said, looking thoughtful.
Hugo looked outside again. Eira still hadn’t come back.
“Are you going to tell her?” Evangeline asked, watching him watch the door.
“Tell her what?” Hugo answered, distracted, not looking away from the door. Something was wrong.
“How you feel.”
He turned to her, their eyes locking. “No. She doesn’t feel the same way. I wouldn’t want to make her feel uncomfortable.”
“What makes you think that?” Evangeline asked.
“In all my years of guarding her and her family, nothing happened between us . . . there’s just no way,” Hugo said, leaving
out the racking guilt he’d been facing, and the memories of the times where things had almost happened. But now? Now he wondered if Eira liked him because he saved her, or if she actually had, before her memory loss.
And then there was everything else, everything she still didn’t remember . . . everything she’d said she didn’t want to know
unless she asked. It all sat there in Hugo’s mind, plaguing him.
“It’s funny, because,” Evangeline said, “I think I didn’t notice how you looked at her back then because I was too focused on how she looked at you.”
Hugo blinked. “What?”
“I used to poke fun at her for having a crush on her guard. . . she denied it, but I could tell.”
Hugo couldn’t believe what he was hearing. Sure, he’d noticed Eira’s eyes lingering on him in the last week, but he’d assumed
she was just trying to figure him out. Not that she— “There’s no way,” he said hastily.
“Listen, I’d actually prefer it if you didn’t make any moves. The less she likes you, the more likely she is to leave you
behind,” Evangeline said. “But I do have to admit you’ve done a pretty good job of keeping her alive, which I appreciate as
her best friend, even if I hate you and would prefer to kill you in your sleep and leave.”
At least he’d done a good enough job of keeping Eira alive that he . . . deserved to live? Speaking of keeping Eira alive,
she still hadn’t come through the door back into the tavern, and Hugo’s hackles were raised all the way up.
“You’re like a lost puppy. Go check on her.” Evangeline shook her head before taking a long drink of her mead. “I’ll hold
down the fort.”
“Sounds good,” Hugo said as he stood and walked to the door. As he stepped into the garden he heard a muffled shout from the
tree line and saw Eira being dragged into the forest by a figure clad all in black.
“No!” he shouted as he set off into a sprint, chasing after whoever had grabbed her. His feet pounded the ground as he barreled
into the forest where he’d seen Eira disappear, but the overgrowth was thick and dense. Hugo stopped abruptly, silent and
holding his breath as he listened hard for anything that could direct him where to go.
There, to his right—more muffled noises and cracking branches as the woman he had loved for years was being dragged through the forest to wherever they wanted her, whoever they were. Highwaymen weren’t uncommon in these parts. Hugo never should have let Eira go outside alone.
He started running again, heading in the direction of the cracking branches and listening as well as he could over the pounding
of his heart in his ears, looking for broken trees as he ran.
Eventually he stumbled out into a clearing and saw Eira on the ground in the middle of a small camp, a man tying a cloth around
her mouth as another tied her hands behind her back. Hugo could see the fear in her eyes across the clearing as she noticed
him. She wouldn’t be able to cast magic tied up like that; she wouldn’t be able to do anything.
“Do not touch her,” he yelled as he charged directly into the man who had just finished tying her hands, launching him to the other side
of the clearing, his back striking a tree with a satisfying crack.
“Well, well, well, we didn’t think we’d draw you out here so quickly,” the other man said, pulling a dagger out of his sleeve
and pointing it in Hugo’s direction. What did they mean by so quickly?
“This doesn’t have to get bloody,” Hugo said. “Let her go, and we’ll leave, no harm done.”
The masked man chuckled, the sound muffled behind the black cloth covering his mouth.
“I’m not afraid to get bloody,” he said as he lunged toward Hugo.
Hugo had expected that and he dived to the left, putting himself between Eira and the highwayman. He lashed out, his sword
slicing the front of the highwayman’s jacket before the man could jump back.
“You’re worth a pretty penny, you know?” another voice from behind him said. “The wanted posters didn’t mention a girl, but I’m sure when we turn you in, they’ll want your little accomplice too.”
Hugo looked over at the other man, who had picked himself up from the forest floor and was now circling Hugo, dagger out.
The wanted posters . . . Shit. Were these men bounty hunters for the Iron Empire? Or simply opportunistic highwaymen, looking
for easy coin for turning in a fugitive? He decided it didn’t matter—they were his enemies, no matter what they called themselves.
Hugo was grateful the posters didn’t have Eira’s information, or the fact that she was a witch, on them yet . . . but his
fugitive status had put her in danger yet again, and he hated himself for it.
“I’m sure the poster explained how dangerous I am,” Hugo growled. “Let us go and I’ll let you both live.”
“No, thanks. I think we can take you,” one of the men chuckled. “And we want what you’re worth.”
So be it, Hugo thought as he swung at the bounty hunter that was trying to flank him, hitting the man’s arm quickly before he could
react to block him.
The man screamed, blood pouring out of his bicep as Hugo swung again, the wounded man rolling and diving out of the way this
time, warm blood splashing Hugo’s bare hands.
Hugo heard the sound of metal singing through the air and he spun around to block the second man’s attack, knocking the dagger
out of the highwayman’s hand and catching it. The other man pulled out a second dagger with his other hand and swung it toward
Hugo’s neck, and Hugo threw up his arm to block it. Metal sank into the flesh of his arm, and pain seared through him. Hugo
grinned—pain meant adrenaline, and adrenaline had a way of sharpening his fighting skills like nothing else.
Hugo wasn’t proud of what he’d done for the Iron Empire, but he’d been good at it.
He still was. He focused on the man he’d just disarmed and rained down blows with his sword.
There wasn’t much the highwayman could do to parry with just a dagger, and the swing of Hugo’s sword over and over again pressed him to the ground, looking up at Hugo with fear and anger in his eyes until he heard Eira’s muffled scream.
“I’ll kill her,” the other man, the one he’d all but forgotten about, taunted. Hugo stepped on the prone highwayman’s throat
until he choked, gasping gagging sounds emitting from him involuntarily as Hugo turned to the one threatening Eira, sword
pointed in their direction.
“If you harm a hair on her head, I’ll crush your friend’s throat,” Hugo panted, blood running down his arm and dripping from
his fingertips. He held a dagger in one hand and his sword in the other, both still raised as he readied himself to spring.
“I think I’ll kill her just for you threatening us,” the man snarled, placing his dagger at Eira’s throat. Hugo could hear
her panicked whimpers from where he stood. He watched her wriggle and try to loosen her bonds, the blade cutting into her
neck each time she moved.
In one swift motion, Hugo dropped his weapons.
“Kill me instead,” he said. He watched the fear in Eira’s eyes grow, and she started shaking her head as she realized he was
going to let them kill him and leave her with them.
“Ransom doesn’t say we get the money if you’re dead,” the man said. Rage built in Hugo with each moment the man had his hands
on Eira. Did they know she was a witch? Why would they have tied her up like that if they didn’t know?
“They’ll give you more if I’m dead,” Hugo shouted, hoping it would be tempting enough bait.
“All right, now that sounds interesting . . . or at least valuable.” Hugo had him, and he knew it. The man pushed Eira carelessly to the ground
and started to head in Hugo’s direction, taking the bait.
The moment he did Hugo moved into action, reaching into his belt for his hidden dagger and throwing it as he stomped on the other man’s throat.
Hard. The choking sounds stopped as Hugo watched the airborne dagger lodge itself in the other man’s chest, wet gurgles sputtering from his bloodied mouth as he dropped to his knees and fell just ahead of where Eira was crumpled on the ground.
For good measure, Hugo picked his weapons up again and jammed the tip of his sword into the bounty hunter under his boot before running over to Eira.
Hugo quickly pulled down the cloth around her mouth before pulling her into an embrace, her head cradled against his pounding
heart. “Are you okay?” he asked, bloodied hands burying themselves in her hair as she gasped into his chest.
“I thought for a second you were going to leave me alone with them,” she said, pulling away and looking up at him, her face
wet with tears. Hugo let go of her head, wiping his hands on his riding pants quickly to get as much blood off them as he
could, feeling guilt about the blood he’d just left in Eira’s hair. He gently placed both of his hands on her beautiful face
as he carefully wiped her tears off of her cheeks, then her chin, then her nose, then, finally, her lips.
“I would never let them hurt you,” he said, his eyes never leaving hers. Hugo wanted nothing more than to kiss her, to show
her just how much she meant to him. Instead, he held her for a moment longer, his heart still racing from the adrenaline,
before untying her and walking back to the tavern.