The boy started unbuttoning his blue shirt. “Take off your shirt and give it to me, Your Highness. If we trade and you get caught, they’ll think you’re part of the staff. They’re putting all the staff in that wagon.”
“Oh.” Cas blinked at him before reaching to unbutton his own shirt. “Thank you, that’s very smart.” His hands stilled as something occurred to him. “Will they think you’re me, if you’re wearing my shirt? Some of the warriors inside saw me.”
The boy started to laugh, then quickly stifled the sound “No, Your Highness. I don’t think there’s any danger of them mistaking me for you.”
The boy was tall and broad, his blond hair brushing his collar. He had a long nose and a pointed chin, and Cas realized he was right. The warriors must have had a vague idea of what Cas looked like, and this boy in no way resembled him.
He pulled the boy’s shirt on. The sleeves were a little short and it was a bit tight, but it would do. “What’s your name?” he asked.
“Felipe.”
“Thank you, Felipe.” A flash of red caught his eye. Behind the boy, an Olso warrior was coming around the corner of the castle, his head turned to call something over his shoulder.
Cas grabbed Felipe’s arm and dashed to the left, his sights set on the bushes only a few paces in front of them. He dove behind one, crouching down next to Felipe. The Olso warrior was joined by three others, and Cas held his breath as their boots crunched against the grass.
He gripped his sword with two fingers and went down on his hands and knees, crawling into the gardens. Felipe followed him. The row of bushes extended only a bit farther in front of him; then it was open space until he made it to the hedges. He would have a hard time making it through without someone seeing him.
“I’ll create a distraction so it’s easier for you,” Felipe whispered behind him.
Cas wanted to argue, but the boy had a determined look on his face, like he’d already decided. He nodded.
Felipe shot to his feet and ran in the opposite direction.
“There!” a woman yelled. “There’s someone behind that bush!”
Cas waited until Felipe was halfway to the front of the castle before he took off. The warriors were all occupied running after him, and if he could just make it a few more steps—
He was yanked back by his shirt suddenly, the collar straining against his neck so hard he choked. His feet came off the ground. A boot slammed into the back of his legs. His sword sprang out of his hand and bounced out of reach.
He hit the grass hard, gasping for air and taking in some dirt as well.
“Get up,” a man’s voice spat.
Cas slowly got to his knees, and then his feet. His heart thudded in his chest, and he was intensely aware of the sword the warrior had in his hand. It was half lifted in warning.
The man gave him another shove with his boot, almost knocking Cas to the ground again. “In the wagon with the rest.”
Cas did as he was told, the warrior following close behind.
“Two more castle staff,” the warrior said. Out of the corner of his eye, Cas saw Felipe being dragged across the grass by a warrior.
A female warrior stood at the back of the wagon, and she jerked her thumb for them to get in. “Any sign of the prince?” she asked the other warrior. Cas ducked his chin into his chest.
“No.”
“Start spreading the word to the locals that there’s a significant reward for finding him. Dead or alive,” the female warrior said. “Preferably dead.”
Cas dared a glance inside the wagon and saw about thirty members of the castle staff loaded inside. They were a mix of young and old, cooks and maids he’d seen only in passing. He even spotted two guards. A few eyes widened in recognition.
He took a step inside, swallowing as he realized any of them could give him up, if they wanted.
But everyone was silent as he stepped into the wagon. Felipe followed behind him. Cas felt gentle tugs on his left arm, and he turned to see the staff making a hole in back for him to sit. He slumped down, pulling his knees to his chest, and the staff immediately filled in the space around him, hiding him from view.
“Are you hurt?” an older woman he vaguely recognized whispered. Daniela. She’d worked in the castle gardens for as long as he could remember. She grabbed his bloody hands.
He shook his head. “No. It’s—it’s not mine.” He tried wiping his hands on his pants again, but the blood had started to dry and it didn’t budge. He noticed he was shaking, as were most of the people sitting around him. They were staring at him with tight, scared faces, and he quickly stuffed his hands beneath him.
“It will be all right,” he said quietly. His voice shook, betraying the fact that he knew that was an outrageous lie. “They have taken the castle, but they have not taken Lera.” That one wasn’t so much a lie as a hopeful declaration, since he had no way of knowing. What if Olso was already in the Southern Mountains? What if they’d defeated all the troops headed there? His mother and Jovita would head straight for the mountains as soon as they escaped.
If they escaped.
TWENTY-FIVE