“Tell me about them,” Guin said.
While Ashyn was playing a role, chattering with her “maidservant,” Guin clearly found the conversation to her liking. Ashyn had to admit it was not particularly a chore to talk about pretty dresses. The ones she’d been given at court had been the stuff of dreams, though at the time, she’d been too worried about the children to enjoy them properly. Now, as she waxed eloquent on the fabrics and cuts – and Guin responded with increasing delight – she was so caught up in the conversation that she forgot it was staged.
When Ronan darted toward them, winding his way through the elm grove, she grinned at him… and then caught his expression of alarm, forgetting that this too was part of the act. Fortunately, by saying “What’s wrong?” with genuine concern, she was playing her role.
“They’re still hunting for the prince,” Ronan said, not lowering his voice. “We need to get him out of here.”
“Where will we take him?” Ashyn asked.
“I don’t know. Just get on your mount and let’s go.”
He waved for them to ride away from the road. Ashyn fumbled getting onto her horse as Ronan helped her, urging her to hurry. Over his shoulder she caught a glimpse of a man sneaking through the trees. It was the youngest of the three bounty hunters. There was no sign of the other two. Tyrus had expected they’d split up to cover more ground.
As Ronan helped her, Ashyn “slipped” and “accidentally” kicked him in the face. Admittedly the script of their performance did not specify such an action, only that she delay getting onto her steed, but at least it meant his oomph of surprise and annoyance was genuine.
The young bounty hunter continued moving toward them, faster now, spurred on by the certainty they were too preoccupied with their escape to notice him. In turn, he was too preoccupied to notice the figure slipping up behind him.
“Stop there,” Tyrus said as he pressed his blade to the back of the bounty hunter’s neck.
When the man’s hand fell to his sword, Tyrus said, “I’d rather you didn’t do that.”
“You’ll not allow me to defend myself? You truly are a coward, aren’t you, boy?”
There was no shock in Tyrus’s face at that. Just quiet grief, as if, despite his words, this was exactly what he’d feared.
He allowed the man to withdraw his sword. Ronan rocked forward, his hand on his own blade.
“No,” Tyrus said. “He’s right. He’s a warrior, and he’s my father’s man. I must allow him to defend himself.”
Which was, of course, ridiculous. What was the point in ambushing someone if you were going to let him draw his sword?
The bounty hunter withdrew it slowly, as if considering whether he truly wished to fight an imperial prince. Then, the moment it was free, he wheeled and lunged, hoping to catch Tyrus off guard. Tyrus met his thrust, their swords clanging. Then Tyrus’s blade circled back the other way, faster than the bounty hunter could recover from the clash, and when Tyrus’s sword slashed his arm, he hissed, eyes rounding in surprise. The cut was deep enough to draw blood. He swung his blade, but Tyrus evaded easily.
“Are you quite certain you wish to do this?” Tyrus asked.
The man sneered. “You expect me to surrender because you landed a lucky blow? Yes, your highness, I wish to do this.”
He lunged at Tyrus and the fight began in earnest. It ended with the bounty hunter on the ground, blood soaked through his tunic in three places and his trousers in two. Tyrus had a nick on his elbow.
“The prince is no coward, as you see,” Guin said.
Tyrus quieted her with a look. When the man started to rise, Tyrus put his sword tip at his throat. “I gave you the chance to do this civilly. Now we’ll do it like this.”
The man looked over his head, taking in Ronan, Ashyn, and Guin. His gaze fell to Tova then to Daigo, as the wildcat slid to Tyrus’s side.
“So the whore left you her beast?” he said.
Ashyn stiffened. Tyrus did, too, but hid his reaction faster.
“If you mean —” Tyrus began.
“You know who I mean, boy. The fact that you still care for her beast – and her sister – suggests you’re too big a fool to even realize what she did to you.”
“Perhaps. Enlighten me. Please.”
“She betrayed you. Seduced you, then sold you out, all at her lover’s command.”
“Her lover?”
“The Kitsune boy.”
“Ah, Gavril. I see.”
Ashyn stood, tense, ready to leap to her sister’s defense, but Tyrus’s expression said that he was not entertaining the accusation for a moment. He knew Moria too well for that.
“Yes, Gavril Kitsune,” the bounty hunter said. “He sent you his whore, and she played on your weakness for pretty girls. You’ve betrayed the empire, and you’ll pay for that. Your father has promised it.”
Now shock did flicker over Tyrus’s face.
The man laughed. “Did you honestly think he’d defend you? After what you did to his men? There’s a bounty on your head, boy. Every man has been dispatched to hunt you down, and the one who does receives twenty gold as long as you’re returned alive so the empire can see you properly punished. I hear Edgewood is no more, having been laid to waste by Alvar Kitsune, with the help of his son and the Keeper whore. So you’ll not be exiled to the Forest of the Dead. But I’m sure your father will find a suitable punishment. The empire may even demand blood for what you’ve done.”