“Get in.” Alex jammed his sword in the soft ground to free his hand and began untying the rope. “It’s dark and smoky. Just lie low and let the current take you.”
He wasn’t coming with them. Sage tried not to panic. “Where should we stop?”
“Use your judgment. Better too far than too close, though.”
Nicholas tossed the broken halberd in the boat and clambered in. Sage waited until he was seated before climbing in behind him. Shouts echoing from the forest and camp told her they’d been spotted. The rope came loose, and Alex tossed it in the boat. When he reached for the bow to push it into the current, she placed her hands on top of his.
“Alex.”
He looked up into her eyes. There was fear, but all for her and none for himself. Alex shoved the boat out into the water as shadows bearing weapons came running down the slope behind him. At the last second he lifted a hand to her neck and pulled her face to his, kissing her desperately. Her free hand slipped around his neck and gripped his hair, and then she was sliding away with the momentum of the boat.
“Go,” he whispered.
She nearly fell out reaching for him, but the prince pulled her back by her belt. Alex waded up the bank to Surry and pulled his sword from the ground. Quickly, he mounted and turned to face the men closing in.
Smoke over the water enveloped them, but Alex was still visible. Sage clutched the sides of the boat as it reached the center of the river and picked up speed, carrying them deeper into the haze as the number of Kimisar around him grew. To her right, downriver, Norsari approached on foot, Casseck in the lead on his stallion, but she didn’t know if Alex could hold out that long. The boat turned with the current, and she lurched to the other side to keep from losing sight of him.
Alex’s sword flashed, but now Casseck was almost there. Sage raised up to her knees, straining to see as the boat began to pass around a bend.
The last thing she saw was Alex tumbling backward and off his horse, an arrow buried halfway into his chest.
53
ALEX HIT THE ground hard, but he’d had enough practice throwing himself off a horse’s back that he knew how to land without breaking anything. Surry responded to his sudden shift in weight by stepping to the opposite side, clearing an area on the ground. Within seconds he was on his feet, his back pressed into the mare’s flank. Mounting the horse had been stupid—it made him a clear target, but thankfully he’d seen the archer in the trees in time. A dozen Norsari ran onto the beach, cutting their way through the Kimisar.
He waved to his friend, and Cass grinned in relief, having seen him fall. They fought their way to each other as waves of soldiers poured into the fight. At some signal Alex couldn’t see or hear, the Kimisar turned as one and scattered into the woods.
Casseck trotted up to him, shaking sweat from the blond hair matted to his scalp. “I think it’s over. From what I saw before we left, they’re running out there, too.”
“It was all a diversion to get Nicholas,” said Alex. “I found him and Sage and put them on the boat and sent them down the river. We’ll go find them at first light.”
Cass nodded, and then grinned wryly and pointed at Alex. “You are the luckiest son of a bitch I’ve ever seen.”
Alex lifted his right arm to see what his friend was talking about. An arrow dangled from his jacket, the head jammed into a metal ring in the leather below the armpit.
“Impressive, though I doubt he was aiming for that spot.” Alex bent the shaft and broke it off, tossed the fletching aside, and reached for Surry’s reins so he could remount. “Come on,” he said. “We’ve got a mess to clean up.”
*
Alex held the torch high and kicked charred canvas aside, looking for survivors and the supplies he would need in tracking Sage and Nicholas down. They’d found six bodies so far, not counting two by the river, but none were Demoran. Confident as he was in his Norsari, it struck him as strange. It was as if the Kimisar had avoided killing.
A glimpse of fabric made him stop. Bending over, Alex pulled out an undergarment that could only have been Sage’s. A flush crept up his neck as he glanced around, verifying he was in the spot her tent had stood. He pushed the tarp aside and inventoried her things. There wasn’t much—she’d traveled lightly. Alex pried up the table and found her open trunk and an untitled leather-bound ledger. Curious, he picked up the book and opened it.
Pages and pages of her handwriting in Demoran, Kimisar, and a language he didn’t understand, phrases circled and underlined, notes in the margin. After that, it was words and phrases in Demoran and the third language paired up, with comments on grammar. Then she’d moved on to attempts to build her own sentences. I’ve been studying old Casmuni trade agreements and treaties for weeks. He’d believed her when she said it, but seeing her work was something else entirely. It was brilliant.
One last section contained a dated account of all Sage had learned and observed as well as some of her conclusions. Corporal Wilder in particular had been a wealth of information. Though it contained nothing personal, he could sense her increasing frustration. The last entries were written during the desert mission.
Darit and Malamin had been the names of the Casmuni he’d captured. She and Nicholas had “shared water” with them and talked. The desert men said they lost their companions in the sandstorm, and while they were headed for the border, they were adamant that they had not and never would cross it. There were no more notes after that.
Under the back cover was a folded piece of parchment that looked like a letter. Alex opened it to find one of his own to her from months ago. He remembered this one, remembered panicking the moment the dispatch left with it, because he’d written it in the throes of longing, and surely his words would be too much for her. When she’d never mentioned it, he’d assumed it was lost.
The worn creases told him it had not only been read, but read often.
In 812 days I will hold you to your promise to be mine. In most cases you are the stubborn one, but on this I refuse to negotiate, for nothing is more vital to my survival, you must understand. And when I say over and over how I want you to be mine, it is only because I am already completely yours.
Fresh tearstains smeared the ink. She’d been reading it last night.
Alex shoved the book and letter into his jacket and called for Casseck to gather three squads of volunteers. Sunrise was over an hour away, but he wasn’t waiting for it.
54
THE SOUNDS OF battle had died away long ago. Sage kept her head low, clutching the sides of the boat as it rocked and fishtailed in the current. The image of the arrow striking Alex in the chest, of him tumbling backward, played over and over in her mind.
Alex was dead.
Maybe he could survive the wound. Maybe the arrow hadn’t struck his heart, maybe it had missed vital organs.
But she’d seen how far it had gone in—halfway through him, meaning it had slipped between the ribs. If his heart was pierced, he would bleed out, or worse, bleed into his lungs, and he would drown in his own blood. If only the lung was hit, breathing would become impossible as it collapsed.
It all ended the same, with him dying, gasping and alone, as his enemies closed around him. Without knowing that she understood. That she was sorry. That she loved him.
Somehow the tears wouldn’t come.
She had no concept of time until the river of the stars faded with dawn’s approach. Nicholas was curled into a ball in the bottom of the boat, dozing restlessly, his swollen hand cradled to his chest. The wrist needed to be bandaged, but she let him sleep. As soon as there was enough daylight, they’d find a place to go ashore and camp to wait for Alex to find them.
Reality punched her in the chest.
No. Alex would never come for them. And Casseck and the others wouldn’t even know where to search, but the Kimisar might. She and Nicholas were on their own.
She gazed down on the sleeping boy at her feet. Alex had died for his prince. If necessary, she would do no less.