Page 11

CHAPTER 10

L AUDE SCREAMED. S EVERAL MEN laughed, their sinister rasps raising the hairs on my arms. I scrambled to sit up and take in my surroundings. Fog loomed in the air, blocking the view of the trees we’d seen yesterday, leaving us only able to see a circle of scruffy men dressed in shabby pants and dirty tunics.

“Good morning, sweet ladies. We hope we didn’t disturb your sleep.” The bearded man cackled as he stepped toward our trunk. He tossed the lid open. “We heard there might be something to fill our coin bags in these parts.” He pulled out one of our pears and chomped into it.

Laude leaned into my shoulder, holding my arm while I counted ten men. Our chances of escaping were not good. I’ve got to try something . I shot to my feet and pulled Laude up. “Yes, sir. I am certain my papá will reward you greatly for bringing us back to Giddel.”

The man cackled some more, slapping his thigh as if I’d told a joke. He was likely the leader. Strong hands seized me from behind. I kicked my captor’s shins, but he merely cursed and tightened his grip.

Laude fought wildly as a burly man wrestled with her wrists to get her to stop punching. Another man pinned down her legs. She rolled her body, slipping out of their grasp. Might she break free?

The leader of the scoundrels tossed an exasperated gaze to the sky and descended upon Laude with a dagger to her nose. “You will learn to obey.”

Laude stopped flopping. Her chest rose and fell in quick breaths.

The leader dragged his heavy-lidded gaze toward me, a malevolent curl playing at his lips. His boots padded the grass as he drew near. The first rays of morning light glimmered off his blade and sparked waves of goosebumps on my flesh.

He yanked my braid back, exposing my neck, and his hot breath lingered against my skin. It reeked of booze and rotting teeth. My stomach churned. “You are beautiful. I might have you for myself.” He ran a hand against my thigh, lifting my skirt.

“Get away from me!” I tried to jerk free, but the man behind me tightened his grip.

The leader pressed the tip of the dagger to my jaw. “It would be a shame if I had to mar your perfect face.”

I bit the inside of my cheek, and a quiver rattled down my back. My feet were still free.

“Tie them up.” The leader unbuckled his belt and tossed it on the trunk.

My breath quickened. Panic flapped in my chest. A young man with dark hair approached with rope in his hands. He met my gaze and hesitated for a second, but that’s all I needed.

I kneed his groin and threw my head back, smacking my captor’s chin. He loosened his grip. Adrenaline pulsed through my blood as I ripped away and broke into a sprint toward the road.

My foot caught the ground, and I tripped. A body crashed on top of me, knocking the wind from my lungs. I gasped for air. Rough hands jerked my shoulder around.

My captor’s dark brows knit into a fury. I screamed my throat raw. He clasped his hand over my mouth, and I bit hard. He jerked the hand back, and I reached for anything to help me pull away. There was only grass.

Desperation stormed through my blood as I twisted and pushed. I popped up to my feet. Intense warmth radiated inside my body. A black tunnel formed around the edges of my vision and narrowed.

I can’t breathe.

Men shouted in the distance. Tree trunks blurred.

Need air.

Short, quick breaths.

More scuffling sounds that faded quickly.

Everything went black and then—nothing.

A breeze tickled my nose.

I blinked open my eyes and peered at blue skies through a ring of clouds. A thick layer of tall grass poked my arms. I sat up, and pain erupted from my ribs. Where is the man who pummeled me to the ground? I tried to call for Laude, but shards stabbed in my throat.

A man appeared above me. I clenched my fists, ready to fight.

“Miss. Miss, are you all right?” His brown eyes scrunched in concern. “You fainted.”

I released air pent-up in my lungs. This fellow had a melodic accent, unlike the ruffians.

“Who are you?” My voice sounded hoarse.

He offered a hand, but instead, I shrank away and studied him. His dark wavy hair flopped past his ears. His face, clean-shaven and tan, reminded me of Duke Marden, but beautiful.

“Where’s Laude?”

“There is another girl over there. We chased away those miscreants. My name is Zichri the Merchant.”

That accent … and that name? I’d never heard them before. Though many kingdoms lined the Agata Sea, dozens of other provinces existed beyond the sea I knew little about.

Laude giggled somewhere nearby. That’s a good sign. I sat up and scanned the hill. She stood among four men and threw herself toward one of them, hugging his torso. “Thank you, good sir. Thank you. I thought we were lost … that we’d never see another kind person again.” She threw her arms around another man, babbling the same words.

I struggled to my feet, and a wave of dizziness crashed around in my head.

Zichri blocked my view of Laude. “Are you all right? You laid there for a minute without moving. I thought you were injured. Or worse.”

I rubbed my forehead and patted my wavy tresses. Hair dangled on the edge of my vision. Had I actually fainted?

“Do you need help walking?” He offered his arm. Unlike the men who attacked us, his white tunic was clean, for the most part. It had no embellishments or plush doublets like the courtiers.

“No. I can walk.” I stepped toward the group by the well. “What happened?”

Zichri ambled next to me. “We were traveling along the road when we heard screaming. We rushed to help and chased those thieves away.”

We could have been captured. I didn’t want to consider what those men planned to do with us. I stifled a cry. My papá, mamá, and brother may never have seen me again.

“You don’t look well. You should sit.” Zichri touched my shoulder.

I flinched. Tears threatened to spill from my eyes. I pressed my hand to my mouth, unable to contain emotions welling up within.

Zichri’s gaze shifted between the group and me. He bit down on his lip and reached to touch my arm but pulled his hand back. I filled my lungs until they might burst, but it didn’t stop my ugly sobs from escaping.

“Miss.” His voice turned weak. “What may I do to help?”

“Nothing.” I sniveled and swiped my nose. Tears and snot smeared across my sleeve. Had anyone seen it? Zichri looked away when I glanced at him.

Heat rushed to my face. “I’m sorry for my lack of propriety.”

Zichri chuckled. “There’s no need to apologize. You’ve just been through an ordeal. We should move on, though. Where were you heading?”

I gulped. Should I tell him Valle de los Fantasmas or Giddel? “Where are you heading?”

He worked his jaw, seeming to consider the question for a second, then said, “Himzo.”

I flinched. “Why would you want to go there?”

“Because it’s my homeland.” Zichri’s careful tone etched a path toward scornful words about a cursed kingdom. A kingdom that snatched lands from its people and encroached on our treaties.

Mamá’s words played in my mind: Nothing good comes from Himzo.