Chapter 8
Wounded men leaned against every available tree. Their less weathered comrades hurried to and fro, administering aid in the form of bandages and brandy.
The king himself cleaned and wrapped wounds, and was just finishing covering a long gash when one of his men hurried up to him. “Your Majesty, I have to report that we can’t find the horses anywhere. They must have bolted to the road.”
Scalyvar didn’t look up from his work. “And what of the cart donkey?”
“She was slightly injured, but remained near the vehicle.”
The king finished his work and stood. “Can she pull the cart?”
“I think so.”
Scalyvar turned to face the camp. “Place those who can’t walk in the cart. The rest can follow behind while those least injured will guard them.”
Titus sauntered up with one of his hands bandaged, and his keen eyes focused on his king. “You sound as though you’re not coming with us.”
“I’m not. I will follow the trail of our foes and see if I might rescue Lady Holt.”
His companion frowned. “But how will you follow them without a horse?”
A faint smile slipped onto his lips. “There’s still one nearby.”
Scalyvar put his two fingers in his mouth and blew.
His shrill whistle echoed through the woods, and a whinny answered him.
Something white flickered between the trees, and Niveus emerged from the woods.
Twigs stuck out of his mane, and his coat was covered in sticks and dirt.
His hooves were soaked in the black tar, the blood of his victims.
The king turned to his subjects. “God willing, we will meet again at the inn.”
The company erupted into sharp shouts, and many of the wounded struggled to their feet.
“You cannot follow them alone, Your Majesty!”
“We will not hear of it!”
“Allow us to come with you!”
Secundus stepped forward. A bloodied bandage covered his forehead. “I must protest this, as well, Your Majesty. While your eagerness to help is admirable, as we all know, the nethral don’t keep captives. The woman is no doubt dead by now.”
Scalyvar nodded at his men. “These nethral weren’t acting in their usual manner, otherwise, they would not have fled after they succeeded in whisking her away.”
Titus grabbed his lord’s reins. “Allow me to go in your stead, Your Majesty. You can remain with the others and lead them to safety.”
The horse threw back its head and snorted. Scalyvar stroked the back of the animal’s neck. “I am grateful for all your offers, but you know as well as I that Niveus won’t allow anyone else to lead him.”
Niveus threw back his head and pawed at the ground. Scalyvar stroked the fine steed’s mane. “Yes, we’ll have our revenge on those fiends.”
“Then allow me to run after you,” Titus insisted.
Scalyvar leaned over and clapped his hand on his friend’s shoulder. Titus couldn’t hide all of his grimace. “You hide your wounds well, old friend, but you are as injured as the others. I will be charged with her rescue and meet you at the inn in a few days.”
Titus stretched himself to his full height and lifted his chin. “I still wish to go with you, Your Highness.”
The corners of Scalyvar’s mouth tightened. “Don’t make me command you.”
They stared at each other in a contest of wills, and Titus was the first to falter. Some of his bravado deflated, and his worried eyes flickered over his master’s face. “Swear that you will meet us at the inn.”
A grin slipped onto Scalyvar’s face, and he patted his friend’s shoulder. “I swear it on the graves of my forefathers.” He directed the horse backward a few steps and nodded at the cart. “Now lead your companions to safety. I expect all to be accounted for when we next meet at the inn.”
Titus swept into a low bow. “As you wish, Your Majesty!” He straightened and looked him in the eyes. “And Cassian?”
Cassian lifted an eyebrow. “Yes?”
A crooked smile slipped onto Titus’ lips. “Show them they can’t bust into our camp again.”
Cassian grinned and grasped the reins in both hands. “That I can most definitely promise you.” Those in the company who were able sat up or stood at attention and bowed to their king. “Until we meet again in three days’ time!” the king shouted before he spurred his horse.
Niveus sprinted into the woods where the fiends had gone, leaving behind a worried group of men. Titus spun around to face the others, and he pointed at the northeast. “You heard His Majesty! We must be swift, or he’ll beat us to the best ale!”
“Yes, sir!” came the shout, and the men hurried to load their injured and supplies.
While they began their race, Scalyvar moved in the near opposite direction. The cover of darkness slowed his progress, but telltale signs aided his search. The huge beast had broken many branches in its hurried retreat, and its entourage had left their footprints in the dirt.
Niveus tossed his head and softly whinnied.
The king patted his back. “I’m not sure if we’ll find her alive, either, but we must try.”
The horse turned its head far enough so one bright blue eye settled on its rider. The steed vibrated its lips together.
Scalyvar lifted an eyebrow. “I have no special motive other than she was in my custody. I can’t abandon her to such a fate.”
The horse snorted and looked ahead.