“If that were so, why would she have us kidnap you?” Royce asked. “Why not just have you killed like your father?”
Alric thought a moment, his eyes drifting to the floor of the boat and then he nodded. “She most likely tried, only I wasn’t there.” He looked back at them. “I wasn’t in my room last night like I usually am. I slipped out for a rendezvous with a young lady and fell asleep in her room until I heard the noise. It is very likely an assassin did come to my room, only I was not there. After that, I had a guard with me at all times until Arista convinced me I had to come alone to the kitchen. I should have known she was betraying me.”
He swung his bound legs into the mound of nets. “I just never thought she could be so cold as to kill our father, but that’s how she is, you see. She is extremely clever. She told you this story about a traitor, and it was believable because it was true. She only lied about not knowing who it was. Once her assassin missed me, she used you. It was more likely that you’d agree to a kidnapping rather than murder, so she set you up.”
Royce did not answer but glanced at Hadrian.
“There was this boat,” the prince went on looking around him, “perfect for your needs waiting at the river’s edge.”
Alric dipped his head at the tarp next to him. “How nice to have a boat with a cover like this to hide me under. With a nice boat, and a river, you wouldn’t be tempted to stray off the water. You can’t go upstream from the city. The headwaters are too rough. You have to go toward the sea. She knows exactly where we are, and where we’ll be. Did she say where to take me? Is it somewhere down this river?”
“Lake Windermere.”
“Ah, the Winds Abbey? It’s not far from Roe, and this river travels toward it. How convenient! Of course, we’ll never make it,” the prince told them. “She’ll have killers waiting along the bank. They will murder us. She’ll say you two killed me just as you killed my father. And, of course, her guards killed you when you tried to flee. She’ll have a wonderful burial for me and my father. The next day she will call Bishop Saldur to perform her coronation.”
Royce and Hadrian sat in silence.
“Do you need more proof?” the prince went on. “You say this fellow that hired you was called DeWitt? You said he was from Calis? Arista returned from a visit there only two months ago. Perhaps she made some new friends. Perhaps she promised them land in Melengar in return for help with a troublesome father and brother who stood between her and the crown.”
“We need to get off this river,” Royce told Hadrian.
“You think he’s right?” Hadrian asked.
“Doesn’t matter at this point, even if he’s wrong, the owner of this boat will report it stolen. When news leaks out that the prince is missing, they will connect the two.”
Hadrian stood up and looked downstream. “If I were them, I would send a group of riders down the river bank in case we stopped and another set of riders running fast down the Westfield road to catch us at Wicend Ford. It would only take them three or four hours.”
“Which means they could already be there,” Royce concluded.
“We need to get off this river,” Hadrian said.
The boat came into view of Wicend Ford, a flat, rocky area where the river widened abruptly and became shallow enough to cross. Farmer Wicend had built a small stock shelter of split rails close to the water, allowing his animals to graze and drink unattended; it was a pretty spot. Thick hedges of heldaberry bushes lined the bank, and a handful of yellowing willows bent so low toward the river that their branches touched the water and created ripples and whimsical whirlpools along the surface.
The moment the boat entered the shallows hidden archers launched a rain of arrows from the bank. One struck the gunwale with a thud. A second and third found their target in the royal falcon insignia emblazoned on the back of the prince’s robe. The figure in the robe fell from view into the bottom of the boat. More arrows found their marks in the chest of the tiller man, who dropped into the water, and the pole man, who merely slumped to one side.
From behind the screen of bushes and willows, six men emerged dressed in browns, dirty greens, and autumn golds. They entered the river, waded out, and caught the still drifting boat.
“It’s official, we’re dead,” Royce declared comically. “Interestingly enough, the first arrows hit Alric.”
The three of them were lying concealed in the tall field grass atop the eastern hill overlooking the river upstream of the ford. Less than a hundred yards to their right lay the Westfield road. From there, the road ran along the riverbank all the way to Roe, where the river joined the sea.
“Now do you believe me?” the prince asked.
“It only proves that someone is indeed trying to kill you and that they are not us. They’re not soldiers either, or at least they aren’t in uniform, so they could be anyone,” Royce told them.
“How can he see so much—the arrows, their clothing—I can only see movement and color from this distance?” Alric asked.
Hadrian shrugged.
The prince was now dressed in the clothes of the steward’s son: a loose-fitting gray tunic, worn and faded wool knee-length britches, brown stockings, and a tattered, stained wool cloak which was too long. On his feet, he wore a pair of shoes that were little more than soft leather bags tied at his ankles. Although no longer bound, Hadrian kept hold of a rope tethered around the prince’s waist. Hadrian also carried the prince’s sword for him.
“They’re moving in on the boat,” Royce announced.
All Hadrian could really see were shadowy movements under the trees until one of the men stepped out into the sunlight to grab the bow of the boat.
“It won’t be long before they discover they’ve only killed three bushels of thickets wrapped in old clothes,” Hadrian told Royce. “So I’d be quick.”
Royce nodded and promptly trotted down the slope toward the stock shelter.
“What’s he doing?” Alric asked in shock. “He’ll get himself killed and us as well!”
“That’s one opinion,” Hadrian said. “Just sit tight.”
Royce slipped into the shade of the trees, and Hadrian immediately lost sight of him. “Where’d he go?” the prince asked with a puzzled look on his face.
Once more Hadrian shrugged.
Below them, the men converged on the boat, and Hadrian heard a distant shout. He could not make out the words, but he saw someone holding up the Alric-bush complete with arrows. Two of the men remained with the boat while the others waded toward the bank. Just then, Hadrian caught sight of movement in the trees, a train of tethered horses trotting up the slope toward them. From the bank came shouts of alarm and cursing as the distant figures struggled to race across the field and up the hill.
When the horses drew nearer, he spotted Royce crouched down, hanging between the two foremost animals. Hadrian caught two of the horses, pulled the bridle off one, and quickly tied a lead line to the other horse’s halter. He ordered Alric to mount. Angry shouts erupted as the archers spotted them. Two or three stopped to fit arrows but their uphill shots fell short. Before they could close the distance, the three mounted and galloped toward the road.
Royce led them a mile northwest to where the Westfield and Stonemill roads intersected. Here Hadrian, and by default Alric, rode west. Royce, leading the train of captured horses, stayed behind to cloud their tracks and then rode north. An hour later Royce, with only the horse he rode, caught up with them. They turned off the road into an open field and headed away from the river, but still moved generally westward.
The horses had built up a solid sweat and were puffing for air. When they reached the hedgerow lands, they slowed their pace. Eventually they reached the thickets, and there they stopped and dismounted. Alric found a spot clear of thorn bushes and sat down fussing with his tunic, which did not hang on him quite right. Royce and Hadrian took the opportunity to search the animals. There were no markings, symbols, parchments, or emblems of any kind to identify the attackers. Moreover, except for a spare crossbow and a handful of bolts left on Hadrian’s mount, they wore only saddles.