Free Orphan of Destiny by Michael Spradlin Page B

relief. I counted to one hundred, waiting to make sure they did not double back to confirm I hadn’t hidden from them. Then I counted to one hundred again, just to be doubly safe, before Angel and I hurried back through the ravine and toward the thicket where we had left Maryam and Robard. I had ridden some distance, and it took nearly half an hour to make our way back.
    As we neared the hiding spot, I remembered Robard’s itchy fingers. The last thing I needed was to surprise them and take an arrow for my trouble. When I was fifty paces away, I called out quietly, “Beauseant!” There was no reply.
    “Beauseant!” Still no response.
    “Robard! Maryam, where . . .” The words died in my throat as from my right came a blur and something crashed into me, knocking me harshly to the ground. My face went hard against the dirt and the breath rushed from my lungs. Someone pulled my head back, and something cold and sharp was placed against my neck.
    “Maryam, it’s me, Tristan,” I said through gritted teeth.
    “Stand up slowly.” Robard’s voice came from somewhere above me, but I couldn’t see him with my head pushed into the dirt.
    “It’s me. Beauseant? Remember?” I coughed.
    Maryam released me and I groaned in pain, standing slowly. When fully erect, I found I faced Robard’s bow, drawn taut, the arrow pointed at my chest. He lowered it slowly.
    “It’s you!” he said happily.
    “Who did you expect?” I replied, rubbing my side where my wound started a fresh round of burning after being thrown to the ground.
    “We didn’t recognize you without your tunic. Thought maybe Hugh had sent someone back looking like you, or maybe tortured you so you would tell him where we waited,” he explained as he returned the arrow to his wallet.
    “And this would all happen in the short time I’ve been gone?” I asked incredulously.
    “Never can tell,” he said. “He’s a slippery one, that Hugh. Better to be safe.”
    “Well, he didn’t capture or torture me. In fact I got rougher treatment from my two supposed friends,” I said sarcastically, rubbing my wounded side. “And you!” I said, looking sternly at Angel. “No warning at all? You couldn’t growl or bark to let me know I was about to be attacked?” Angel stared at me with a cocked head, then wagged her tail. Of course she wouldn’t bark at Robard or Maryam. She looked at me as if to say, “You should have known.”
    Robard and Maryam shared a horse again, and with a groan I was able to climb up onto my mine. We rode north this time. There was no doubt Sir Hugh and his men would catch my horse. I wanted to be as far away as possible before they backtracked.
    The ride was still difficult through the thick woods, but before long we found a shallow stream and rode along it for several leagues. It would hide our tracks and make it more difficult to follow us. The moon was sinking behind the clouds and it would be daylight soon. We needed to decide: keep riding and risk someone spotting us, or go to ground and give Sir Hugh time to catch up.
    “Do you think we’ve lost him?” Robard asked after we’d ridden for a while.
    I gave him my answer by digging my heels into the side of my horse and urging him on. If we had lost Sir Hugh, it wasn’t for long. Of that I was sure.

11
    W e rode through the remainder of the night, not daring to stop except to rest briefly and water the horses. Robard took the lead most of the way, and rode with his bow strung and held across the pommel of his saddle. All the excitement in Dover had weakened me considerably. My wound ached, and before long every step of my horse sent a jolt of pain through my side.
    When we were safely beyond the city, we turned back north, riding at an easy pace, giving the horses a rest, and following a well-marked but little-traveled trail through the forest. Near daybreak, we rounded a bend and found a crude wooden bridge crossing over a fairly wide stream. The area around us had grown