“Collin, Preston, move!” Percival shouted urgently, swinging his blade to parry the blow of the nearest attacker. In a matter of seconds, they had been surrounded by six men on horseback. The ambushers had been hiding in the trees until they passed through, and if not for Percy’s quick reflexes, might have felled at least a few of their members before they’d had a chance to react.

Crow jerked on his reins, swearing under his breath as he craned his neck to look over his shoulder. He wasn’t used to fighting or fleeing from on top of a horse, and even though he was better at controlling Baine now than he had been a few weeks ago, his heart still pounded anxiously as he surveyed the situation. They were outnumbered in fighters. His attendant didn’t know how to use a blade, and he was still in training, so he wasn’t confident enough to take on an experienced swordsman without the usual tricks that helped him when he faced knights on the ground. That was why his father had sent along an entourage of bodyguards, but even as he watched, he could see that they weren’t faring well either.

Percival was struggling to hold his own against two of the men who took shots at himself or the viceroy, and already, he was clutching at his thigh with his free hand, having taken a wound to the leg. Naida was wide-eyed as she fended off another cloaked enemy, doing slightly better than the male knight but steadily being overpowered by her opponent. Rayner had yet to be the target of any members of the sextet but still couldn’t land any blows when he charged at them. And their Younisian escorts were being worn down as well in a three-on-two skirmish. They were losing quickly, and Crow felt his respiration quicken as he backed his stallion away from the battle.

Being attacked on the road to the Younisian castle had been a possibility, but they had thought that the Younisian knights were the ones who would have targeted them. With two escorts from the other kingdom, they had let their guards down and only kept a lookout for Otto. Crow’s eyes danced over the clashing blades and bodies as he realized too late how ill-equipped they were. The men who had sprung out at them were big, reminding him distinctively of the mercenaries he and Penelope had stumbled upon before. But, if they were men who had been hired by the same person, he didn’t understand why they were here now. They’d already gotten away with the Younisian staff two years ago. What more could they want?

“Collin, this way,” Preston suddenly hissed at his side, giving Baine’s rein a sharp tug and then turning his own horse toward an opening at their right. Without waiting, the attendant spurred his steed and took off away from the road at a canter, but the former thief hesitated. Even though he wasn’t the most useful fighter and the battle was looking frighteningly one-sided, it felt wrong to just abandon the others. Had he been traveling with knights he didn’t know well, he would have fled the scene without a second thought, but Naida was his half-sister and Percival was the closest thing he had to a friend in the inner kingdom. He couldn’t bring himself to run when they were in danger.

So, he turned back to the rest and swallowed hard, reaching for the dagger he’d brought along with him. He didn’t have a suitable weapon for this kind of brawl either, but maybe if he spotted an opening, he could—

“[i]Collin![/i]” Percival’s voice jarred Crow from his scheming, and he startled, looking up to find that the knight was staring back at him with a wild urgency in his eyes. “What are you doing? Get out of here!” the knight snapped and then followed up hurriedly when the viceroy parted his lips to protest. “[i]Go![/i] Head for the town and get help!”

“But…” Crow grimaced. He didn’t want to leave the others, but the knight was right. They needed reinforcement quickly. He didn’t know if he could find more knights fast enough, but he had to try. It was the only option, so he turned his horse once more and braced himself to ride for the town. However, before he could drive his heels into Baine’s sides, he froze as he caught sight of something that stole his breath away. There was a seventh man on a black stallion in the trees: the same mercenary he’d seen in Bellmare when he’d made his trip with Penelope… and he was holding a notched bow.

In a flash, his survival instinct kicked in, and the viceroy dove from his horse’s back just as the mercenary released his arrow. The projectile flew past his shoulder, and he inhaled sharply as he hit the ground hard on his side. The air fled from his lungs, but he didn’t have time to lay down and recover from the blow. He scrambled to his feet and staggered away from Baine, who had reared up on his hind legs in fright when his rider had launched himself off his back. Distantly, Crow could hear someone shouting his name, but he barely registered it as he watched the mercenary reach over his shoulder and ready a second arrow from his quiver.

With no time to think, he sprinted for the nearest tree and dove at the last second, narrowly dodging the next projectile as he hit the ground and rolled behind the trunk. In the same moment, he heard Naida let out a bellow as she shifted her attention from the swordsman she’d been fighting to the mercenary archer. “Naida, wait—!” Crow tried to call after her, but the warning died on his tongue when he saw the man draw a sword from beneath his cloak. Before he could say or do anything to stop it, he stared in horror as the mercenary lashed out and caught the princess in the side between two plates of armor. She let out a pained cry and doubled over in her saddle, grasping at the injury as her horse galloped deeper into the trees in confusion.

[i]No.[/i] Crow went white. Time seemed to slow down, and he froze, unable to bring himself to move his feet as his sister disappeared from sight. Standing where he was, he watched dazedly as the fight raged on. Percival managed to cut down one of the mercenaries he’d been facing and then challenged the man on the black horse next with more success. While they exchanged blows, the Younisians weren’t quite so fortunate. Another mercenary dealt a gruesome blow to Osbert, who slumped over in his saddle before an injured Edwin killed his assailant and then promptly fell on the sword of another mercenary. With three knights down, it was looking like the mercenaries were going to win, and the viceroy felt a chill shoot up his spine, abruptly aware of the sound of hoofbeats approaching him from behind.

He whirled around and pressed his back against the trunk of the tree. In his distraction, he hadn’t even noticed that one of the mercenaries had slipped away from the others to come after him. He didn’t have enough time to react, and he turned his head away, squeezing his eyes shut as he braced himself for the sword’s bite. Instead though, the man who’d been charging at him let out a screech and fell from his saddle with two arrows protruding from his chest and skull, and Crow stared at his body in surprise. None of his bodyguards wielded a bow.

Apparently the Younisians did though.

“The men in cloaks! Get them!” an unfamiliar, accented voice roared. The ground shook as a stream of four knights on horseback charged through the trees with blades and bows levied high. They raced toward the mercenaries, who recoiled and shouted to each other in their language before turning to face the new arrivals. As they crossed swords, Crow quickly put more distance between himself and the brawling, taking shelter behind another tree. Everything was happening so fast that he could barely keep up. He was still dazed after watching his half-sister take a gash to the side—he still didn’t know what had happened to her after that—and every time he started to get his feet under him in the fight, he was thrown off again by another change. He had no idea where the Younisians had come from, but they were fresh-faced and skilled enough to force back the mercenaries, so he decided to leave them to it. There was no sense in getting involved when they had things under control.

Instead, he leaned back against the tree trunk to catch his breath, keeping watch over his surroundings to make sure none of their enemies snuck up on him again. He wasn’t going to let them corner him twice. Sorely, he rubbed his side with one hand, his green eyes roving over the trees. For the most part, the forest seemed clear, but as he turned his head to his left, he faltered, catching sight of something else that he hadn’t expected: A figure was standing in the distance, watching the skirmish with a clenched jaw and a calculating expression. Otto.

“Hey!” Crow snapped, blurting out the exclamation before he could stop himself. The baron jumped and glanced at him, then immediately spun around and took off at sprint, trying to get away. The viceroy wasn’t going to let him off that easily though.

“Oh no you don’t…” he growled. Without hesitation, he took chase, running away from the battle to catch their missing nobleman. After his suspicious behavior and unexpected appearance when they had been attacked by mercenaries, he was determined to get some answers.