Crow stared down at his bare hands with a dazed expression. In prison, he had slipped out of his chains on a few separate occasions when the guards weren’t looking in his direction, but he’d always fumbled to clip them back on before anyone realized he was loose. This was the first time someone else had been ordered to release him. He rubbed his chafed wrists, as if he couldn’t believe there was nothing binding his hands together anymore. However, he didn’t have much time to revel over his newly granted freedom. Almost as soon as the restraints were gone, the oldest knight, William, shoved him unceremoniously between the shoulder blades to force him to walk where he would be fully visible.

Coming back to himself, the thief slipped out of William’s grasp and shot him an indignant scowl. “I know where I’m going, thank you very much,” he huffed and then proceeded to walk just beyond the other man’s reach, so he couldn’t attempt to herd him again. Between being pushed, grabbed and carried by all of his guards, he’d had quite enough manhandling for one day. But, of course, the knights couldn’t leave him alone just yet.

When the woman chided him for being ungrateful, Crow tossed his head, affronted. “I would have gotten out on my own eventually,” he bluffed. “The king just happened to beat me to it.” The statement was a boldfaced lie, and he knew it. He had made plenty of escape attempts, but the prison guards had bested him each and every time. If he had a way to properly prepare, he was sure he could have made it out, but unfortunately, it was impossible to come up with a foolproof plan when he couldn’t case the building from inside his cell and the guards changed their routines every week.

Naturally, William had to pour salt on his open wound. At his declaration that a knight could do the work he’d spent his entire life perfecting, Crow curled his lip, insulted. “My profession is much more difficult than you think,” he growled vainly. “It takes [i]talent[/i] to scale a castle wall without getting caught or pick a ten-pin lock in just seconds.” No one bothered to do him the courtesy of responding though. He doubted they were even listening to him.

It was the female knight’s last remark that sealed the final nail in the coffin. “Alright,” the thief narrowed his eyes at the two nobles. “Now you’re just being rude. I’m beginning to rethink my decision of letting you come with me.”

As the king had said, the horses and supplies were already prepared for them in the courtyard of the palace. It seemed their ruler had spared no expense too. The wooden caravan was large enough to fit about five or six people comfortably when empty. There were four posts holding up a canopy for the top, with curtains that could be drawn to cover its open sides for complete privacy. The best parts to Crow, however, were the piles of large, burlap sacks, filled with supplies that had been stocked for them.

He immediately trotted over to the side of the wagon, curious to find out what was bundling inside those enticing bags. However, before he even had a chance to peer over the edge, he felt a hand grasp him by the back of his tunic. Turning around in annoyance, he was unsurprised to see William standing over him again. “Watch it,” he pushed the knight’s hand away. “This is the only shirt I have, and you’re going to rip it.”

“Don’t you even think about stealing our supplies, thief,” the older man ignored his complaint, shoving him against the side of the cart.

“Who, me?” Crow pressed a hand to his chest, his eyes wide with feigned shock. “I would never do that!” As he spoke, he smoothly reached behind his back with his other hand to snag a loose piece of bread from a sack on the edge of the wagon. Stuffing the food into his trouser pocket, he added for good measure: “How could you even accuse me of such a thing?”

William didn’t humor him. “Turn out you pockets,” the knight ordered without hesitation.

“Oh, come now,” Crow rolled his eyes. “Friendship is based on trust. Are you really going to—”

“I said,” the older man interrupted icily. “Turn out your pockets.”

“Fine,” Crow grumbled in defeat, handing over the stolen piece of bread. William replaced it with the rest of the food stock, and the thief smirked at the back of his head. The knight was slightly more observant than he’d been expecting, but he was clearly a novice at handling a swindler such as himself. He had broken the bread with his fingers, only returning half while he kept a portion for himself. The trick never would have worked with his old prison guards—the men would always personally reach into his pockets to make sure he wasn’t hiding anything—but this knight had taken the decoy without question. If the rest of his keepers were this oblivious, escaping from them later would be child’s play.

He leaned against the side of the wagon with his arms folded loosely across his chest as William took charge of the group.

“Abraxas, you will ride in the wagon with the thief. Make sure he doesn’t attempt to touch any more of our rations,” the knight commanded, casting Crow an irritable look before he turned to the woman. “Penelope, you and I will ride up front and keep watch along the road.”

This was too good. The youngest knight, Abraxas, seemed to be the least vigilant among his three guards and was therefore the one the thief most preferred to watch him. He clapped his hands together gleefully. “Alright, let’s more out then. We’re losing daylight.” Climbing nimbly into the back of the cart, he leaned out over the side as he waited for the others to take up their own positions.