By The Light Of The Moon

Chapter 34

The man didn't ask any more questions, and I was too distracted with this news to try to maintain the conversation. My other watchdog finished sharpening his blade and sat quietly, his gaze also tracking any footsteps that came near the tent.

I wracked my brain, but my options were limited. Extremely so. I was in a war camp with at least a hundred soldiers. This tent may have been near the edge of the camp, but with two men specifically designated to watch me, I couldn't even move my hand without them noticing.

Considering everything else I'd seen, I wouldn't be surprised if these men were assassins or the high-ranking warrior's bodyguards. They certainly had the alert patience for such roles. Even if they were called away, I doubted I'd be able to run fast enough to reach the trees. Not with the other soldiers and sentries present. The small crossbow resting beside the silent man only reinforced the consequences of trying to run.

If escape wasn't an option, that meant I'd be meeting an irate and sadistic Warlord hellbent on revenge. That was where I ran out of ideas. My family was rich compared to many traders, but their coffers wouldn't contain enough to reimburse the wages of so many soldiers, let alone appease a tyrant.

My mind kept circling around the hundreds of senseless horror stories I'd heard, some of which had been from people who'd witnessed the events. I remembered the burned villages I'd passed and wondered if Dryden was even still standing or if it had been destroyed because the son had died there.

A volley of horns blasted through the night, the volume and close proximity making me jump. The two men were instantly on their feet. The silent one flung the tent flap open while the other grabbed my arm and hauled me to my feet, dragging me outside.

He gave a sharp whistle, and his horse yanked against its short tether, which came undone, the knot merely for show. It charged over and slid to a stop beside the man. Hands grasped my waist and threw me across the saddle.

The horse was moving even before the man was properly in his seat. I tried to push myself off, but his iron grip kept me firmly in place. The saddle pounded into my midsection as the horse raced toward the shouting and snarls.

As the horse came to a sudden stop, the restraining hands let go, letting me tumble to the ground. The impact knocked the wind out of me, and I struggled to sit up.

"Freeze!"

I looked up to see several crossbows pointed at me, although most of the men holding them were focused on something else. My two watchdogs kept a sharp eye on me, but the one with the crossbow wasn't aiming it my way.

The order hadn't been directed at me.

My heart sank as I looked to the side, only now noticing a pit. At the bottom was a brown werewolf. His hackles were up, and his teeth were bared, far more prominent in the faint moonlight than should have been possible. A crossbolt stuck out of his lower leg, which he completely ignored. A few darker patches on his fur marked other injuries.

Shane had returned but had fallen victim to another one of their traps.

The saplings and numerous branches scattered under his feet must have been part of a pitfall trap. That was why they had put me in a tent near the edge instead of keeping me at the center of the camp. They had been trying to lure him in. The tent hadn't been right at the edge, since that would have been too suspicious, but it was close enough that a bold werewolf might come closer to investigate how alert the sentries were.

With over twenty crossbows now aimed in his direction, he was just as out of options as I was. He was standing on his hind legs with his arms held slightly away from his sides, tense and ready for a fight. But he remained where he was, his eyes locked on the men pointing their weapons at me.