The Shadow Throne (Ascendance 3)

We ducked low, just in case they were near, and then watched and waited. Within a few minutes, Mott joined us and we debated whether to follow their trail or to proceed to Falstan in an entirely different direction.

“Wait a minute.” Tobias held up his hand to silence us. “Just wait. Do you hear that?”

If I listened carefully, then I did hear something. It sounded like a moan, rising up the hillside from somewhere near the trail below.

Tobias rose up tall, clearly with the intention of going down to investigate, but Mott pulled him back.

“He sounds injured,” Tobias hissed. “We have to help if he is.”

“He’s an enemy,” Mott said. “You’ll help him get well enough to return to the battlefield and kill more of our men.”

“But that man isn’t our enemy.” Tobias turned to me. “Isn’t that what you said before, that only their king is your enemy?”

I had said that. But had I truly meant it? It was certainly possible that the moaning was a trap to lure us in, which was the last thing I wanted to face. If we met on the battlefield, that man and I would have to engage in a fight where only one of us walked away. But if he was injured and helpless, off the field of war, did I then have an obligation to try to save his life?

Obligation or not, I couldn’t just leave him to die. During my time with the pirates, I had promised myself that I would not go down the dark paths they had followed. I would not become as they were.

So I nodded my permission at Tobias, then Mott and I pulled out our swords to accompany him down the hillside. This didn’t feel like a trick, but we had to be cautious nonetheless.

Tobias saw the man first, and to my surprise, he started laughing. We caught up to him and couldn’t help but join in. This man — this supposed enemy — wasn’t much older than I, and had all the ferocity of a frightened lamb. He had become caught in a hunter’s rope that had grabbed his leg and whisked him upside down and into the air. Everything that wasn’t attached to him had fallen out of his reach, including a poorly made sword that barely looked sharp enough to skewer a plum. He wore a livery similar to our own, and must have been upside down for so long that his face had now become as red as his hair. Truly, he was a ridiculous sight.

When he saw us coming, he hailed us as friends and said, “I beg you to help. Please, get me down.”

I walked around the area, beating at nearby bushes to be sure no one else was hiding there. He rotated his weight until he turned to Mott, the oldest of our group and the one he would naturally suspect was in charge.

“I’ve been here over a day, sir, and the pain is becoming intolerable. As a fellow Avenian, I beg you to help me.”

With my Avenian accent, I asked, “What is your name?”

“Mavis Tock. My father is a candlemaker, in the south.”

“Ah, then you must have learned your fighting skills from him. How did you get into this position? Are you being punished?”

“No.”

“Are you being hunted?” I squinted at him. “Or are you the bait?”

“We were marching but I was terribly thirsty. So when I heard a stream, I snuck away to get a drink. When I ran to catch up to the others, faster than I knew it, I became caught in this trap. By then, everyone was too far to hear me calling for help. I’m not even sure anyone knows I’m missing.”

Tobias removed his knife and went to cut him down, but I pressed him back with my hand. “Where was your group going?”

“North. Apparently, the armies of Gelyn were stopped at the border by a small group of Carthyans. I heard that Gelyn would’ve won, but Bymar arrived at the last moment and sealed Gelyn’s doom.”

So Bymar had come? That was excellent news on two fronts. It meant that Roden had achieved a victory at the border, and also that Fink had gotten through safely. But since Mavis still assumed we were from Avenia, I only shook my head and said, “Carthyans are horrid people, aren’t they? What right do they have to defend themselves in this war?”

Mavis nodded, then frowned as if confused. He finally gave up and simply asked, “I’m really hurting. Can you help me down?”

With my permission, Mott strode forward and used his sword to cut the rope on the boy’s leg. He tumbled to the ground, but we immediately noticed the blood around his ankle where the rope had sliced into his flesh.

Tobias darted toward him and began examining it. “How’d this happen?”

Mavis took a look at it and his eyes rolled in his head, forcing him to lie back again. “I tried for hours to wiggle my way free. It hurt, but I had no idea it was so bad.”

Tobias pulled a handkerchief from his pocket, one I recognized as belonging to Amarinda, and I wondered why he should have it. He ran toward the sound of water and reappeared moments later with it dripping wet. He wrung it out, then knelt before Mavis to wash his leg.

“We should go,” Mott whispered as he leaned over to me. “We’ve freed him, and there’s nothing more required of us.”

“What if your roles were reversed? Wouldn’t you hope for more from him?”