Prince Folly's Arc

Chapter 4 of 5

The village was still two hours away when Folly heard the hoofbeats behind him. He turned in the saddle and saw them cresting the ridge — five riders spread across the trail, moving fast. They wore the mismatched gear of hunters who'd learned to work together, and their horses were fresh. The injured man slumped against Folly's chest, unconscious now, his breathing shallow and wet. Folly urged his horse forward, but the animal was already exhausted from carrying two men. The gap closed quickly. Within minutes the hunters had circled around him, cutting off the path to the village. The lead rider raised his hand, and the group stopped. No one drew weapons yet, but their hands stayed near their belts. "That's one of ours," the lead rider said, nodding at the injured man. His voice was flat, neither angry nor curious. "Set him down and ride on. This doesn't concern you." Folly felt the weight of the heirloom necklace beneath his coat — his mother's, given to him the day he left home. It was worth enough to buy passage through any blockade, enough to convince these men to let him carry the injured man to safety. He could also draw his sword and try to fight free, though five against one meant he'd likely die here with nothing accomplished. Or he could leave the man and ride west toward Elara, who was three days ahead and being hunted by people who knew her name. The injured man had tried to warn her. Folly had promised to get him to a healer. He dismounted slowly and lowered the injured man to the ground. Then he pulled the necklace free and held it up so the gems caught the light. "This buys his passage to the village healer," Folly said. "And your word that you'll take him there." The lead rider studied the necklace, then looked at Folly with something like recognition. "You're the prince who's been asking about the knight." It wasn't a question. "She's three days west. We'll have her name on a warrant by tomorrow." He took the necklace and tucked it into his coat. "My word's good. He'll reach the healer." He paused. "You won't reach her in time." Folly mounted his horse and turned west without answering. The necklace was gone, his mother's last gift traded for a stranger's life and the slim chance that doing the right thing here would matter when he finally found Elara. The hunters parted to let him through. Behind him, he heard them lifting the injured man onto one of their horses. Folly didn't look back. Three days west. He had a direction, and he'd chosen to arrive empty-handed rather than blood-stained. Whether Elara would understand that choice was something he'd learn when he found her.