Free Dragon Thief by S. Andrew Swann

their tents to wait quietly for your return.”
    â€œThey will come after me,” he said, an almost admirable note of royal steel returning to his voice.
    â€œThat’s the point of a hostage, isn’t it? If they do, their paymaster ends with a slit throat. That wouldn’t be in their best interest, would it? Unless you hauled their gold with you all the way from Dermonica, and you don’t appear to be that stupid.”
    â€œYou won’t get away with this.”
    â€œAnd you want to survive to see justice done, don’t you?”
    I felt him tense under my grip and I prodded him with the dagger.
    â€œDo it. Things are messy enough.”
    For a moment I thought he was angry enough to risk his life just so his assassins would have a chance to take me out. But he shouted, “Everyone, back in your tents! Await my return. Do not interfere!”
    They did as they were told, though they stared at me unnervingly as they did so. Each one of them was looking for some sort of opening. No way was I going to get that second horse. I kept from showing my back until everyone was back in their tents. Then I pushed Prince Oliver up into the carriage and followed him into the driver’s seat.
    â€œPick up the reins.”
    He stared at me.
    â€œPick them up!” I prodded with the dagger.
    He reached down and grabbed the reins for the one horse and held them up between us.
    â€œNow drive us out of here!”
    â€œHow?”
    We stared at each other. For a moment I was speechless.
    After that moment I said, “You’re kidding, right?”
    He wasn’t.
    Of course the bloody prince has no idea how to drive a horse-drawn carriage.
    Amazing how quickly a hostage can go from indispensable to completely useless. I reached up to his collar and yanked the robe down to his elbows, restraining his arms. Then I grabbed his nightcap and pulled it tightly over his eyes.
    â€œHey.”
    â€œShut up and don’t move.” I grabbed the reins from him and did my best to drive our lone steed out on the road without putting the dagger away.
    Â â€¢Â â€¢Â â€¢Â 
    The question arises at this point, why didn’t I just run?
    I had safely disengaged myself from the group of feral teens, Weasel’s crew, and a score of Dermonica-employed assassins. My first priority was getting back to Lendowyn to sort out the mess caused by my drunken decision to use the Dark Lord Nâtlac’s jewel. I didn’t owe anything to Fearless Leader and crew.
    Well, I owed them for the clothes, but I figured that was outweighed by them pointing a crossbow in my direction.
    Really, any thief worth his fingers would have been long gone by now.
    But I was never a particularly good thief.
    I stopped the carriage on the road over the hill from the assassins’ campsite, and the girls emerged from the forest. Grace directed the other six silently to board the carriage and climbed up next to me. As the weight shifted below us, Fearless Leader paid me her first compliment, “That was impressive.”
    â€œWho’s there?” Prince Oliver said.
    â€œYou don’t want to know, Your Highness,” I said.
    I got the horse moving, but he strained against the weight.
    â€œYour Highness?” Grace asked.
    â€œYes.” I bent down to talk into the carriage. “We’re overloaded, toss anything down there that isn’t nailed down.”
    â€œWho is he?” Grace asked.
    â€œCrown Prince Oliver of Dermonica.”
    â€œPrince? What is
he
doing here?”
    â€œOther than weighing us down? Good question.”
    Below us the carriage doors opened and tapestries, cushions, and open chests sailed out into the road.
    â€œWhat
are
you doing here?” she asked the prince.
    â€œYou know very well,” he whispered.
    â€œBringing yourself and a score of hired assassins across the border,” I said. “It looks like an act of war to