The Shadow Princess (Chronicles of the Stone Veil 6)

To him, that’s probably true as he’s big and muscled. His irises are so dark, they’re almost black, and he sneers at me. “I’m going to make you pay for that.”

Another man puts a restraining hand on Snyder’s shoulder. “Easy. The Empress wants her unharmed.”

“No,” Snyder disagrees. “Ferelith wants her alive. She said nothing about the condition she should be in.”

“Maybe so, but we need to get out of here.”

That seems to make an impact. Snyder releases his hold on my shirt, and I stumble backward, right into one of the other men who simply holds me by my upper arms.

Snyder looks me up and down, a corner of his mouth tipping slyly. “You look good in a collar. Looking forward to having fun with you on our trip back to Kestevayne.”

I try not to panic at his allusion but instead glean some very important information. He implied we’re riding by horse back to Kestevayne, which means these soldiers don’t have the power to bend distance. They’re most certainly relying on Ferelith for the magic in this collar, and I’m betting the containment spell is hers too. That means these men are not from powerful lines of magic and are forced to travel the old-fashioned way.

A quick mental calculation tells me that we’re at least three to four days away from Kestevayne, if we go at a slow pace with the horses, two if they run them into the ground. It’s enough time for Bastien to find me.

If only he discovers I’m actually missing. That could be hours yet.

Snyder turns and grabs his horse, easily vaulting into the saddle. The man holding me drags me over to him, and I’m hauled up and draped stomach down over his lap. A wave of dizziness hits, and I’m pretty sure it’s not from the collar but from the hard hit against the ground moments ago. I attempt to call on my magic, but it’s dead. I’ve never felt more useless in my life.

The men mount up and head out at a canter, which is torture on my ribs and makes it difficult to breathe. Snyder keeps a hand pressed down on my back to stop me from bouncing off his lap. They clearly want to put some miles between us and Clairmont.

I’m completely nauseated and dizzy, and I find myself begging, “Please… let me sit up. I’m going to vomit.”

“Shut up,” Snyder growls, apparently not believing me.

The nausea rises, and I dry heave, which causes Snyder to stop his horse so fast it rears up. He pushes me off his lap and dumps me on the ground. I land on my feet but at an odd angle, and my ankle twists before I crumple to the ground.

“What did we stop for?” one of the soldiers says as he circles back to us.

“The bitch was going to vomit on my boots,” Snyder says in disgust. “Let’s tie her to the horse and make her walk behind us.”

“That will slow us down too much,” the other man replies.

Snyder growls in anger and dismounts. I try to scramble away from him, but he scoops me in his arms, and next thing I know, I’m tossed back in the saddle, this time astride the horse. Snyder leaps back up, sitting behind me. Gathering his reins in one hand, he puts an arm around my stomach as he threatens, “Don’t try anything funny. You make this ride difficult, and I’ll tie you to the back and drag you.”

I don’t disbelieve him, so I merely nod. I’m grateful to be sitting up, and my nausea quells after a few deep breaths. Snyder kicks his horse, and we move off at a canter again.

CHAPTER 15

Bastien

The military forces stationed in Clairmont were mostly mounted divisions, and the horses were housed in four large stables. Today Bastien worked on his soldiers’ sword skills while in the saddle, and his arms ached from brandishing his steel against opponent after opponent. Bastien was so strong and proficient, he could wield his weapon in either hand. He was so accomplished on his horse, he didn’t need to use his reins but could guide and direct by short commands or the pressure of his knees against his steed.

Every soldier he sparred with put up a valiant fight.

Each one ended up in the dirt.

It was getting close to lunchtime, and Bastien considered heading to his house and showering there rather than at the dorms. Thalia and Archer still weren’t back, but it didn’t worry him just yet. Thalia loved to fish, and those two were probably busy reconnecting after so many years apart.

“Want to grab lunch?” Kieran asked as he dismounted. He’d knocked as many soldiers from their saddles as Bastien had.

Bastien shook his head as he started to unsaddle his war stallion, Greta.

Yes, despite his horse being a stallion and having all the packaging that went with such an animal, he bore the pretty name of Greta, thanks to Thalia. Bastien had lost a bet to her years ago, awarding Thalia naming privileges.