Kingdoms - Book 6 - The Frencolian Chronicles (complete)

Chapter Thirty-Three

He turned his attention to the man controlling the reins, boasting about his ring, and exclaiming as the man flaunted his. Frewin gasped at the huge emerald; he had killed for a smaller stone.

The instant Frewin closed the door, Kenrik pushed his feet towards Jobyna, instructing, "My boot! The right one! On the inside you'll find a small dagger."

Jobyna shuffled around. Bringing her tied hands to his boot, she tried to get her fingers inside. It was tricky, but she felt the small implement. Sliding it out, she then eased it from its sheath, gripping the handle in her teeth.

Kenrik rocked himself around. Jobyna grasped the dagger with fingers from both hands and she sawed at his bonds. He winced as the blade sliced down through the rope and along his thumb, grazing the top layer of skin. Now free, he cut the rope from his feet, and cut her hands loose. Her wrists were raw from the pressure of the rope. Bruises on her face and arms were swollen, purple.

Jobyna smiled at Kenrik, "They'll be inside the Baltic Castle by now..." She watched as he reached under the seat and pressed on the velvet-covered panel.

Reaching into a cavity, Kenrik drew out a sheath with a short sword in it. He sheathed the dagger and gave it to her. "Take it. Use it." At her stare of disdain, he added, "You might need it. His eyes looked into her serious emerald stare and he held them until she looked down and took hold of it.

Reaching in again, he pulled out a flask, removed the stopper and offered it to her. Strong fumes rose to her nostrils, and she shook her head, but licked her parched lips as he thirstily swallowed several mouthfuls. He offered it again and she said, "I would, but I might vomit it back at you."

Replacing the stopper, he put it back into the cavity and closed it.

"Why don't we jump from the door? Won't there be some of your soldiers following us?" She asked, disturbed, knowing he was preparing to fight.

"I'd like to settle it with this lot first! I'm sorry you hate bloodshed so much," Kenrik said, not a bit sorry.

"Kenrik," she said as he pushed the bolts on the door, and cut a small piece out of the shutter. "Kenrik! Look at me!" He turned to meet her eyes, and she continued, "There are twelve men out there... well... eleven!" They both smiled at the thought of Frewin. "Hagen and the soldiers are killers! I'm useless and you are one." She paused, feeling embarrassed. He had turned away.

"You fight like a hundred of them, Kenrik, but you're the czar now! Please think of Chezkovia and let your men take care of this miserable bunch!" She threw him one more plea, "Think how great your men will feel that they helped destroy the czar's kidnappers. And, I'd like for you to return to your home without, without a scratch more."

Her words revealed to him that she cared more for him than she worried about shed blood, especially that of these traitors. Kenrik stared at this princess. He had never before met such a woman. She was anxious about his life. Not since his mother, had anyone expressed this kind of concern towards him.

Climbing into the back he slid a round metal piece from an aperture and peered out. Cutting a hole in the other side, he looked out, made the hole larger and searched again. "I don't believe the idiots! I think they've all gone ahead!"

"Right, but that's good for you, us, isn't it?" she asked.

He didn't answer but paused to wonder about such a situation...

Unknown to Kenrik, the soldier driving the carriage had caught sight of a distant Chezkovian uniform. Frewin had agreed and claimed that he saw troops ahead. If the men had to ride ahead to check it out, then his reprieve from the 'stuffy carriage' would last longer. He didn't cherish the idea of balancing his way back along the side of the carriage again. It had not been 'easy' to him! "Sides, they're sleepin'... like babies... that they are," he said aloud.