SWORD dragging across the throat of the man, Leif spun and wrenched the blade away as his opponent went down. The Prince winced—the weight of the weapon strained the shoulder that had been hit moments earlier. Gritting his teeth, Leif blocked an oncoming blow with the flat side of the captured blade and swiped his own sword out.
His attacker made several attempts at his head which forced Leif to raise his arms up to block the blows. Sharp pain bloomed just below his ribcage with every move and made breathing difficult. Leif jumped back to avoid being stabbed in the stomach and found himself back against the wall.
With the attacking sword trapped between his own, both wielders directed all their energy into the sharp extensions of their arms. Behind the man, the tunnel showed signs of a skirmish; bloodied and strewn with bodies and discarded weapons. Leif couldn't see Killi or Tavis, much less hope for aid.
He could feel his shoulder slipping under the pressure of the larger man's weight. As it gave way, Leif twisted his body and swords so the sudden movement pitched his attacker forward. Before the man could regain footing, Leif brought the hilt of his sword down on the base of his neck, slamming his head into the wall.
Relief flooded as the man crumpled and, when the rush of blood pumping in his ears subsided, he heard no more fighting. Leif sought out his men as the weapon slipped from his left hand. Rolling his shoulder, he watched Killi with uneasy awe. The changes that came with time and age had hardened Killi; he was a man who fought to kill with all the finesse and habitual movement of a dancer.
Tavis had impressively managed to down one of the enemy soldiers without sustaining a visible injury. He'd used his shield, swinging it forcefully into the head of an attacker while Killi was too preoccupied to protect him. Still, Leif found it strange that Killi had dragged the useless lord with him; he needed more protection than the Princess would have had she been armed.
Princess!
"We've lost her." Leif grunted, using a dead man's shirt to clean his sword before sheathing it. He picked his way over the bodies he and Killi had cut down, hoping the unexpected blockade hadn't wasted enough time for his words to be true.
But true they were.
One look at Kyden running toward them when they emerged from the pass, made Leif's heart drop. They'd missed them. No! They can't have gotten away with her! But there was still a chance that they could be stopped. Leif ran for the end of the tunnel. It opened onto a ravine, and a thick tangle of roots from an ancient tree stretched down and obscured the exit. Hurtling through them, a hope swelled in his chest that the enemy had been held up in the mess and would be visible in the distance.
Dropping to his knees in the cool water, Leif felt the control on his emotions finally slip and he bit back a sob—there was no one to see or hear. Silk butterflies floated past him in the water, and he picked them out with a shaky breath.
"I should have listened," Leif muttered, berating himself for insisting they go his way. The enemy had been well prepared.
"You could not have known."
"No, but I made a fool's decision, and she's gone."
Leif felt the sting of his stupidity all the way to his core; he'd been stubborn and lorded his knowledge of the tunnels over the others, as if he could navigate the situation better than them. He'd been wrong. A wrong that cost them the Princess.
"It's my fault."
The others were silent for some time, offering him nothing more than solidarity in the form of hands momentarily on his shoulder.
"Blame," Kyden said softly, kinder than he needed to be after Leif's treatment, "It serves no purpose. You lost her, I lost her, we all lost her."
As Tavis and Killi discussed returning to the palace to notify the King of Aradanas, Leif latched onto Kyden's words.
He'd heard the King utter something quite similar once. Blame is irrelevant, it matters not if you are at fault, but that you've done something to remedy a situation; a leader should take responsibility.
This disaster fell on him. He was not there, and they got their hands on her. He chose the wrong course of action, and they got away. Now he would fix it. Leif glanced at Killi and Tavis preparing to return to the tunnel. Let them go back; the Princess meant nothing but a potential marriage to them. To him, she meant so much more. Making his way quickly over the slick rock to the bank, Leif took hold of the tree whose roots he'd just been under and began climbing.
"Leif?"
A few attempts at climbing the tree had Leif examining it thoughtfully. "Killi, you're a fast climber as I recall. I need to see which way they went." But Killi only gaped at him. "Killi, now! We're wasting time!"
With a stiff bow, Killi set to scaling the large trunk. He stopped periodically and scanned the distance, until eventually he caught sight of what he was looking for. During the daytime, the Princess' pale green dress would have made it impossible to find her among the trees. In the darkness, her dress and the silver masks of her captors were a beacon.
"Do you intend to go after them?" Tavis asked as Killi descended after pointing out the direction.
"Yes, I intend to follow. We know which way they are traveling, and we could likely stop them before they leave Aradanas. You are free to return to the palace; let King Dara know what has transpired. It will not amount to much; it'll take you too long." Leif turned and began the trek to the small village the enemy would be passing.
"Leif, this is madness!" Killi reasoned. "You cannot hope to stop them on your own."
"It is sure death," Tavis agreed.
Face eerily impassive despite the anger burning in his eyes, Leif turned on them. "And going back to notify the King will solve nothing. They will be long gone by the time the guard is readied. I will not let her be stolen!"
Kyden regarded him with an understanding that there was more to Leif's insistence at going after her. It made his skin crawl to think that Kyden could see through to the things inside his heart.
"The Princess gone is a sure call to war for my kingdom." His words were the truth—a truth he did not want to see come to fruition—but not the words Kyden had been expecting to hear.
Silenced by the thought, the men let his motivation and the severity of his implication sink in. A war between Aradanas and Loricus would drag all their kingdoms in, like the whirling tides of an eddy.
"Go back if you will," Leif sighed. "I'm going to attempt a rescue; my Princess deserves at least that."