Dinah felt rage rise within her. “Who are you to order me around? No one, a dirty Spade! I’ve survived alone without you just fine.”
The Spade turned his horse around and narrowed his eyes at Dinah. “Survived? Survived? What do yeh plan on doing once yer food runs out? Or when yeh need to venture away from the stream? Yeh weren’t hard to find because yeh followed the water, and the Cards caught up with yeh without much trial. I wasn’t fooled by that false trail to the Ninth Sea, but they were, so I let them dawdle around there for a few days. That steed of yers is fast, but they will catch yeh eventually, chasing until he is worn down or abandons yeh. Make no mistake, the Cards will run yeh off yer feet.” He stroked his beard. “Maybe the King will mount yer heads together. Yeh were a blade’s width away from being killed last night. Tell me, Princess, what is yer plan?”
He caught Dinah off-guard and she lowered her eyes as a warm shame rushed up her face. The Spade made a soft click with his tongue and the horse trotted up next to her. Her face bruised and dusted with dirt and clutching her stomach, Dinah tried her best to stand up straight to face the Spade. Her black eyes held his gold ones, sunken in his once-handsome face.
“My plan, my plan is that I’m waiting…,” she started.
“Waiting for who?” He peered at her. “Who are yeh waiting for? The stable boy? The King?”
Dinah shook her head. “I don’t know, I think so….” She realized then how foolish she had been. Thick clouds of doubt swirled over her. I don’t have a plan. Oh gods, where am I even going? “I—” she clamped her mouth shut. There was nothing left to say. She had failed. She had no direction and no future, not without Wardley, and he wasn’t here. Sir Gorrann was, however, and she could either follow him (and she would have to, otherwise she would not have food or clothing) or stay here and die. It was simple. From the depths of the Twisted Wood below, she thought she heard the faint blast of a trumpet. They were still looking for her and if she stayed, they would find her. The Spade was right. There was no choice. She pushed her hair back from her face and glowered at the Spade. “Fine. Let me get Morte.”
“Oh, is that his name? He’s a ripe ferocious animal that one. I’ve seen him in battle. Killed a dozen Yurkei right in front of me.”
“You should ride him. He loves new riders.”
The Spade chortled. “I don’t think I’ll be doing that today, Princess. It’s time to head out. I’m sure yeh’ll catch up.”
“Don’t call me Princess anymore,” she snapped quietly. “My name is Dinah.” He tipped his head in her direction as his brown steed disappeared under a clump of mossy green trees. Dinah stood still for just a second, letting the breeze rush over her. There was a new chill in the air, and she realized with a start that from the top of the rock outcropping, she could see the faintest outline of the Yurkei Mountains, once far on the horizon. The trees in the valley below groaned hungrily in the breeze and she saw several of them reach out to welcome the clean, frigid air. In the azure sky above, a red feathered hawk dove again and again into the wood, searching for food, spiraling with deadly efficiency as it sailed above the trees. Its feathers rippled like fish scales, and she watched as the flaming colors danced over its small form.
Something silver winked from the bird’s neck in the morning light. She squinted. A collar. Dinah felt her breath catch in her throat. That was a tracking hawk. It was not hunting rodents, it was hunting her. She had seen this hawk before. The Spade was right. It is time to go. Dinah threw the filthy wool cloak over her shoulders and began to climb out of the rocky nest. Morte slumbered above, his spiked hooves pressed out in front of him. Dinah cleared her throat. He did not stir. She coughed again, loudly this time. One of his black marble eyes popped opened and he watched Dinah as she began to weave her way up the forest path, following the path of the Spade. She walked for several minutes before she spotted Sir Gorrann up ahead, his horse meandering through the woods as the Spade hummed a soft tune under his breath. He gave Dinah a smile as she came up the path behind him.
“Aye, yeh decided to come. That’s the first good decision yeh made since leaving the palace.”
“Shut up,” replied Dinah. “I have no choice. You have my bag and my sword.”
“That I do, Princess.”
“I think I saw a tracking hawk.”
“Indeed you did. His name is Bew and he belongs to one of the King’s trackers, Sir Fourwells.”
“Will he find us?”
“Not now that yer with me.” The Spade raised his eyes, taking in the trees and the increasingly rocky landscape. “We won’t have to flee long. I doubt the King will lead them out of the Twisted Wood. If they don’t find yeh there, they’ll probably head up to Ierladia, to pay a very unpleasant visit to yer mother’s family.”
“Why wouldn’t they follow us?”