Chapter 19

Soren made sure Annalise was safe by the fire with a dagger at her side for added protection before he took stock of what was left after the attack on the bandit camp. 

On the day of her kidnapping, when the rescue party had returned without her, he’d almost lost his mind and gone after her alone. 

It had taken Lieutenant Rorarck and two other men to pin him to the ground before he’d listened to reason—with darkness falling in a strange forest, the light of the moon obscured by the tree branches, and enemies in the woods, chasing blindly after Annalise would have been madness. Once he was thoroughly reassured that the soldiers had marked where they’d last seen the bandits trail, and only after he’d promised not to run away, did the lieutenant let him up and order the men to make camp.  

While he’d rested his sore legs, and to keep Lieutenant Rorarck from getting too squirrelly about him sneaking away, Soren stayed in the center of camp and checked on Priscilla. She was understandably in shock after watching Annalise’s abduction and, judging from the furious intensity with which she wielded a pair of scissors on an old shirt to make bandages, seemed on the verge of going after Annalise herself. 

That night, Soren barely slept. He tossed and turned, unable to get Annalise’s screams of terror and his frustration at being utterly useless out of his head. For all of his talk of taking care of her and protecting her, he’d failed her when she needed him the most.

As soon as the sky brightened that morning, he was up and preparing for the journey ahead. His right leg and hip ached fiercely, but he’d ignored it—he didn’t have time for injury with a princess to save. He’d selected twenty men to go with him and ordered Rorarck to wait a day. If they didn’t find the bandits quickly, Rorarck was to go on ahead with the dowry and trousseau and wait for them outside of Rea where it would be safer from robbers and other ne’er-do-wells.  

They’d not taken horses because of the unfamiliar terrain and the thickness of the forest undergrowth. Even with their eyes peeled and moving from dawn to dusk, they’d lost the bandits’ trail a handful of times, and it had taken them nearly three days to catch up.

Considering the small number of bandits he’d seen when they abducted Annalise, Soren hadn’t been expecting to find a group nearly thirty strong. That had been a miscalculation, but twenty trained soldiers should have held their own against a band of amateurs. The real danger had come in the form of the mage, and it had cost him the lives of most of his men. If it hadn’t been for help from a surprising quarter, Soren had little doubt that he would also have died. 

“I’ve directed my men to gather up the bodies and take them a good distance away. It’s too late to move camp, but it would be unwise to keep them where they can attract predators,” a tall man dressed in gray said. His homespun cloak made him nearly blend into the shadows, and Soren would have had a hard time keeping track of where he was if it weren’t for the glint of firelight on the silver circlet atop his head. 

“Thank you. Did you have any casualties?” Soren asked. 

“None, only a few injuries. And you?” 

Soren glanced at the fire where the remainder of his men were lying or sitting. “There’s less than a handful of us left, and all are injured. Not nearly enough to protect our charge.” 

The man nodded, his eyes falling on Annalise. “She is the Dovean princess, is she not?”

Soren’s hand drifted to his sword, and he widened his stance. “She is. Is that going to be a problem?” He didn’t know the mystery man or any of the men who followed him. They’d joined mid-fight without introduction, and at the time he’d welcomed any help he could get, but now he wondered if perhaps the enemy of his enemy wasn’t necessarily his friend after all. 

“Not at all.” The man looked from Annalise to Soren, and then to the sword Soren held ready at his side. “Those bandits burned several homesteads to the north of us. We’ve heard stories of the masked princess of Dovea, and news of her betrothal to King Nelan. In fact, my lady would be very interested to meet your charge. Our territory is a day’s journey away. There we can provide you and your men with shelter, food, and healers as well as a safe place to rest.” 

Soren frowned but didn’t see how he could refuse the offer; now that the adrenaline of finding Annalise had worn off, his injuries were making themselves known anew. If he were honest with himself, he doubted he could defend her from a hungry wolf pup, let alone a motivated human.

“I must speak with Princess Annalise,” he said. 

The man nodded and stuck out a hand. “I am Linean Padrin, captain of Lady Telimary’s guard. We tracked these bandits for several days when we heard the sound of your attack.”

Soren shook his hand. “Soren Kierson, captain of Princess Annalise’s protection detail.” He frowned as a thought struck him. “It is rather convenient timing that you were already following the bandits just as we caught up to them.” 

“Not so surprising when you realize that they’d raided one of our outermost villages before attacking your caravan. Lady Telimary declared they must pay for their crimes, but we wanted to see where they were going before we made our move so we could ascertain who their master is.” 

“And? What did you find?” 

Captain Padrin’s lips pressed together. “Not much. Tend to your men, Captain Kierson. We have a long day tomorrow.”