A Thousand Heartbeats

The sun was up, and I was without cover. My riding boots were not made for running, and I could feel blisters opening on my feet. My fingers were still stinging from the cold of night, and it was almost impossible to close them into fists without the pain blinding me. I hadn’t seen anything that looked like civilization since I’d left the broken-down castle, so I had no way of asking for help.

Based on the sun, I was heading west, but that was all I had to go on. And as I came upon that awful forest, the sun was going to be of little help to me. It was getting harder to think clearly. I’d been riding on the rush of my escape for hours, but now all I could think of were the dead soldiers left to the elements, the fact that I hadn’t come home like I’d promised. My father hadn’t wanted to let me out of his sight, and, even at his worst, he must be worried. And I’d been so close to my mother and had to leave her behind. These thoughts ran through my mind over and over, though they were eventually joined by the practical things. Pain, hunger, exhaustion.

As I entered the thick forest, I told myself it didn’t matter; all I needed was to get as far away from Lennox as possible. It seemed I’d been brought there to die, and Lennox was the one charged with the task—though he hadn’t seemed to want the job. Not even when I made him angry. I shook my head. I would not sympathize with the man who took my mother from this earth.

Moving my head like that made me dizzy, and I had to lean against a tree. A branch scratched my arm, and I gasped, surprised I could even feel it at this point.

It was then that I heard the horses.

I looked behind me, and, in the distance, saw four riders. I could recognize Lennox instantly from his cape. I’d failed. I hadn’t moved quickly enough.

The tree I’d stopped against was hollowed on one side, and all I could do now was crawl into the open space and hide. It offered no cover if anyone came in front of me, but it was all I had. There were only four of them, and they didn’t know where I was. I told myself there was a chance they’d go past me.

I worked on slowing my breathing and pulled myself in tight, standing with my arms braced inside the hollowed-out trunk.

Don’t move, don’t move, don’t move.

“Spread out.”

I tensed up at the sound of his voice. He was startlingly close.

“The three of you, widen your search to the south. It’s quite likely she’s collapsed out here somewhere.”

“Yes, sir,” they replied, and I listened intently to the sound of three horses branching off.

I waited to hear him moving, too, but for a long time, there was nothing. But then I heard the sound of a horse taking a step, and another, and I knew he was still nearby, sweeping the grounds.

My heart was thundering in my ears.

After a few tense minutes, I saw him. He was atop the same horse from yesterday, a dark, fearsome thing. His eyes were sunk into the familiar scowl, and I saw his cheek had a raised red mark on it, similar to the one I could still feel on mine. He sighed, raking his gloved hands through his black hair, and stopped.

He seemed weary. Not weary with any kind of physical weakness . . . but as if he needed the kind of rest that sleep cannot give.

He suddenly looked up, like he heard something, even though I hadn’t made a sound. With a hint of a question in his eyes, he tipped his head over his shoulder . . . and he saw me.

So this was it.

He slowly trotted over, his face empty of the victory I expected to see there. I didn’t know what I thought might happen, but he simply stared at me for a moment. I was humiliated to realize I was in my shift and stays and little else, covered from head to toe in mud. This wasn’t the dignified ending I’d hoped for.

I waited for him to pounce, but he simply looked at me. Then he reached down to the pocket attached to his belt and threw something at me. “Catch,” he said quietly.

I instinctively put out my hands just before it hit the ground. I inspected the little rectangle in my palm. It looked like seeds pressed in molasses and wrapped in paper.

He pulled the skin of water off his saddle, took a massive swig, and dropped it on the ground.

“Oops.”

He then reached up and pulled the cord that held his cape in place. The weight of it made it drop to the forest floor.

“Do not move,” he instructed. “Once they finish their search, I will draw them back across the field behind you, keeping them south. When you can no longer hear the horses, and only then, go that way.” He pointed in the direction I’d been heading originally. “The cape is thick enough to keep the thorns at bay. Before you get home, dispose of both it and the waterskin. The last time you saw me was when I left you in the dungeon. Is that clear?”

I’m sure I was still squinting at him as he said all this, my confusion obvious.

“The next time our paths cross, I will not be this lenient. When we come for our kingdom, Annika, you will die.”

I lifted my head. “I appreciate the warning. Know I have no intention of sparing you, either, Lennox.”

The corner of his lips lifted into a trace of a smile.

“Duly noted. Until then.” He tipped his head at me, as if he were a gentleman.

I left his cape where it was for now, but the waterskin was close enough for me to stretch out and grab, so I did. I didn’t care that his mouth had been on it, I put the thing to my lips and guzzled, desperate for something to drink. I came up from it gasping, looking out to make sure none of them had come back my way.

I looked down at the bar of food and decided to chance a bite, thrilled to find it was crunchy and sweet. I nearly sighed out loud it tasted so good. I took another bite and realized there was something familiar in it. Cinnamon.

I smiled to myself, quieting down and settling in to wait.