Six Heirs (35 page)

“Put it down!” he heard behind him.

Bowbaq shot a brief glance behind him, short enough to still keep his other adversaries at bay. But what he saw drained him of the meager hope that had vitalized him.

Men surrounded them on all sides, blocking all exits from the rocky passage. Several of them had bows.

He, Corenn, and Rey were trapped.

Grigán didn’t like it, not one bit. Their enemies seemed to be legion, and he thought he could hear sounds of a struggle where he had left his companions.

In fact, all the assassins were rushing in that direction, and he was having more and more trouble making his way forward without being seen. Once already, he’d had just enough time to fling himself into a dark corner before coming face-to-face with three of the strangers.

Grigán was brave, very brave, but not foolhardy. If he kept running as he had been, it wouldn’t be long before they captured him. If he waited, soon enough he really would be a solitary warrior, mourning the deaths of his friends.

He heard running; someone was coming toward him. Grigán melted into the shadows and gripped his dagger. At the last moment, he stuck his leg out, tripping the hurried man, and watched as the man’s head smacked into a rock, knocking him unconscious before he could even cry out.

The warrior wished it could always be so easy.

But the assassin sprawled out on the ground gave him an idea. Somewhat ridiculous, surely very risky, but the best one he had for now. Actually, the only one.

He quickly undressed his victim and slipped the clothes on over his own.

Then he joined the band of assassins who were racing toward his friends.

Léti was going way, way too fast. At first, Yan intentionally let her go out ahead so he could protect her and stop her from turning right back around toward the heat of battle. But now she was too far ahead of him and was slipping out of his line of sight more and more frequently.

Forcing a swift pace wasn’t the best solution: in the thick darkness, they could very well fall or run smack into a rock—or right into one of the assassins they were running from.

Earlier, running away as fast as possible seemed like it was their best option. Yan had understood that as soon as Rey was attacked, they were at a disadvantage. Their only chance at survival was to run; even Grigán would have agreed.

He tried not to think about Corenn and the others.

Not right away. First he needed to get his precious Léti out of danger, then he would turn back and help his friends. If he still could.

Yan slowed down, out of breath. The path he had been following began to slope down; their escape was altogether aimless, and now they were completely lost.

A few millidays had already gone by since Léti had faded from sight. She was several dozen paces ahead. He listened closely, trying to calm his panting.

He couldn’t even hear her anymore. He concentrated hard, searching for the sounds of running feet in the silence of the night. Nothing.

He had lost Léti.

Corenn followed their enemies without resisting. It soon became apparent that any effort to escape would be useless against the imposing band of criminals and assassins that had been sent after them.

These men hadn’t slain them on the spot, which left a sliver of hope. Furthermore, Grigán’s fate was unknown, and Léti and Yan had successfully escaped. Whatever they were planning, the best solution for now was to stall. By any means necessary.

Corenn immediately put this idea into action, faking a painful cramp. But after only a few millidays, the horrible man behind her violently pushed her forward, letting loose a string of curses which Corenn hadn’t even known existed. That wasn’t enough to stop her, and she made do with slowly hobbling along, crying out in pain every once in a while. She couldn’t leave room for any suspicion.

Even limping, she managed to catch up to Bowbaq and get in front of him, before slowing down even more. The giant had been marching at his normal pace, which was far too brisk.

Their only chance was to stall their enemies, she repeated to herself. For Grigán, for Léti, for Yan. And to give her time to think.

The assassins had even brought Rey along on this forced march, even though the actor seemed more dead than alive. Two crooks had disarmed him and carried him along like a sack of grain. Corenn presumed it wasn’t the intention of the men to kill them. Not right away, at least.

Nevertheless, they weren’t treated any less like enemies. Not a single member of the Guild—that’s who these men probably were—had spoken to them, except to deliver insults and menacing remarks. It was better not to have any illusions about their intentions.

“Where are we going?” she risked asking.

“Shut the hell up, old woman!” was the only response she received.

Corenn left it at that, not wanting to make things worse. Making one of the men mad would surely result in more violence and would eliminate any chance they had of escaping through diplomacy, if they had any chance at all.

“He’s awake, I’m telling you!” a Lorelien voice shouted.

One of the men carrying Rey happily dropped him to the ground. Indeed, the young blond man had already regained consciousness, at least enough to protest his poor treatment.

“Well, sirs! I get the feeling you don’t like me. This habit of dropping me without fair warning shows a flagrant lack of manners.”

“Shut it! Stand up!” the scoundrel said, kicking him in the stomach.

Rey grabbed the man’s leg and pulled him to the ground, then tried to take his sword. But it was stuck underneath its
owner, and the actor’s attempt to escape died in the womb. The second man booted him in the ribs before forcing him to his feet at bladepoint.

“I knew you didn’t like me,” Rey groaned in pain.

“Shut it!”

The little column started forward again. Corenn knew where they were bringing them: to the small beach where they had landed earlier that night.

Her worst fear was that they would be taken away immediately. That she would be separated from the others, without any way of knowing what happened to them.

Bowbaq had an exaggerated coughing fit. Corenn turned toward him, intrigued. To her knowledge, the giant wasn’t ill.

Bowbaq stared back at her with eyes as big as saucers. He nodded to his left.

Corenn followed the signal as discreetly as possible. What, he wasn’t thinking about trying to escape now, was he? It was too late for that.

But what the giant had seen was a trail sign. Grigán must have assembled the unique collection of branches, rocks, and seashells. Unfortunately, Corenn couldn’t decipher it.

It didn’t matter. Whatever the warrior’s message, there was nothing he could do for them.

Léti had cracked. Her mental balance, which had already been strained tremendously over the past two dékades, had finally tipped completely.

She had a strong urge to cry, but the tears didn’t come. If it weren’t for the bitter taste in her throat and the pounding
headache that prevented her from reasoning, she would have thought she had become numb.

She felt as though she had been running her entire life. She ran from her dear ones’ disappearance, from the love of the living, from challenges and joys, truths and lies.

She had run away yet again, just a moment ago. So quickly, so selfishly, that she had even lost Yan. When she finally noticed, it was almost too late.

Now, kneeling down in the grass, she shuddered at the memory. She had run and run, and still ran, as if she were trying to run from all her fears at once. She ran like a madwoman. Almost to her death.

She had only seen the danger once she was ten yards from the edge of oblivion. It had taken her seven or eight more to stop.

The path went no further. Her aimless run led her to the top of a cliff overlooking the sea, 150 feet below.

Momentarily, she sat watching the waves crash against the rocks. She thought that joining them might be a solution, a relief.

But no, that would be another weakness.

She couldn’t run any further? Very well. Perhaps it was a sign of destiny.

Never again would she run away.

She tightened her grip on her knife and started back down the cliff toward the rocky maze with a confident step.

Three armed men appeared, blocking her way. One of them yelled something in Lorelien, likely an insult or a threat.

She calmly returned to the top of the cliff, turned around, and waited for them with a determined resolve.

Never again would she run away.

Grigán came as quickly as he could, but it wasn’t quick enough. He finally reached his companions after the short battle, just in time to witness their capture.

The crooks already had them under escort. The warrior considered joining them, but it was too risky. Some of the men might know what he looked like; it was best that he stay back for now.

So he followed the troop from a distance, more powerless, tortured, and anguished than ever.

He figured they were taking them to the only place on the island where they could have landed: the little beach. Using this knowledge, he outpaced the group and left a sign for Bowbaq, hoping that the giant wouldn’t pass by it without noticing.

It was all he could do for now—signal his presence not far from them.