Horace was pacing through the shed. The morning of their departure had finally arrived and he was itching to get a move on. Eden hadn't allowed him to leave the shed the past two days, for fear that someone - more specifically, the innkeeper - would find out that Horace had taken refuge there. The knight wasn't too comfortable with the confinement; the walls seemed to be getting closer and closer. Unfortunately they wouldn't leave until nightfall, which seemed to be very soon on the one hand, but on the other, it felt like so far away. Horace gave up his pacing and dropped down on a straw bale, deciding to count the amount of wooden beams in the ceiling by lack of anything else to do. There were twenty.
Horace sighed and got back to his feet. With his hands in his pockets, he kicked around the loose straw on the floor. Not much later, the sound of footsteps approaching alarmed him. He quickly retreated into his hiding place between the straw bales, in case the person approaching was not Eden bringing him some breakfast. Luckily it was a false alarm. Horace stepped away from the straw bales, to find Eden with an unusual tense expression on his face.
"What's going on?" he asked immediately, knowing Eden had been looking on the bright sight of the situation for the past couple of days, despite all the draining work the innkeeper had him do; he had never seen him like this. Eden didn't reply, but he look as if he was on the verge of tears. He put the tray with Horace's breakfast on the ground and started to turn back to the door. Horace ignored the breakfast and grabbed Eden's shoulders, forcing him to face him.
"Eden, what is going on? What is wrong?" he repeated, a sense of dread coming over him. Eden took a shaky breath.
"They are... they are onto us," he managed to say, before bursting out in tears. Horace embraced his friend, trying to comfort him.
It took several minutes for Eden to calm down a little. Horace led him to a straw bale and gestured for him to sit down.
"The innkeeper... He knows something is happening," Eden started dejectedly, as the two of them sat down. "He doesn't know what it is, but that's what making it worse." He sent Horace a look of despair. "Now he's keeping Celia on lockdown, until I tell him what I'm hiding from him. How are we supposed to leave now?" Horace felt a searing anger rising up inside him. What kind of horrible person was this innkeeper?! He set his jaw and grabbed his sword, tying it around his waist.
"Leave it to me," he answered calmly, getting to his feet. Eden anxiously jumped to his feet as well.
"What are you going to do? You can't just leave like that! They might see you!" he exclaimed. Horace looked over his shoulder.
"That's my plan," he informed him. "I'm not going to let him take Celia from you like that! I know what it feels like to be separated from the people you care about. I don't care what that innkeeper thinks. I'm going to tell him what I think." With those words he turned back to the door and rushed out of the shed. He paused for a second, taking the time to breath in the fresh air, before making his way straight towards the inn, a nervous Eden trailing behind him.
He pushed open the door, a hand on his sword. The morning light fell through the door from behind him, as he stood there, using his body to block the doorway. The innkeeper, who was washing up some cups behind the bar slowly put down his cloth and stepped forward. Townspeople who had arrived for an early breakfast, who probably recognized Horace from stories the innkeeper had been telling about him, moved away from him, cowering against the walls.
"So, you think you're still welcome here?" the innkeeper asked, crossing his arms over his chest. Horace let out a cold laugh.
"I'm not here as your customer. I'm here to pick up some friends of mine." The gathered people started whispering to each other, wondering what was going to happen, as the silence stretched on between the two men. The kitchen door slowly opened, reveiling the face of the innkeeper's wife. She yelped as she saw Horace standing there and quickly ran back into the kitchen, kicking over some pans in the process, judging from the noise following her retreat.
Squinting, Horace stepped forward, triggering the innkeeper to get to action. Screaming, he ran towards Horace, taking a ladle from his apron. He tried to hit Horace on the head, not taking into account that he was facing an experienced knight. Horace evaded the hit by grabbing hold of the ladle, taking it away from the innkeeper. All the noise had attracted curious guests to come down the stairs, rubbing their eyes to wake up quicker. From the corner of his eye, Horace could see that Cassandra and Alyss were amongst these people. He threw the ladle to the ground and grabbed the innkeeper's collar, dragging him towards him. Their faces were only inches apart. A man somewhere in the back of the inn called out for Horace to leave 'that poor man' alone. He withstood the urge to roll his eyes and instead calmly stared 'that poor man' in the eyes.
"Where is she?" he grumbled, barely audible for anyone further away from him than the innkeeper. The man shook his head in fear.
"I don't know who you're..." he squeaked, but Horace interrupted him.
"You know damn well who I'm talking about!" he hissed, shaking him around to make clear that he wouldn't be able to bluff his way out of this. "Where. Is. She?!" The innkeeper stared at him, wide eyed with terror, stuttering a vague answer. Horace was able to interpret it as Celia being somewhere in the innkeeper's private chambers. He pushed the man to the ground, heading for the kitchen door. The innkeeper crawled away from him, frightened of what the knight might do. Eden was right behind Horace.
"You!" the innkeeper hissed, as soon as his gaze fell upon the boy. "After all I've done for you! How dare you betray me like this?" The guests joined in with the innkeeper, uttering some ugly phrases to him. Eden flinched, not knowing how to defend himself from it.
Horace rolled his eyes and put his hands on his hips.
"You didn't do anything for him!" he exclaimed, now clearly audible throughout the taproom. "You have blackmailed him, had him do terrible jobs and all that for having the courage to follow his heart! You should be ashamed of yourself, using someone like that! And now you've even locked one of them up, simply because you think they are hiding something from you! Well, let me tell you this: it is over! You're done with you games! They will both be coming with me, so they can start over and get a chance of building a life for themselves!" He stared the bald man in the eyes. The innkeeper, however, wasn't impressed by his words.
"And who do you think you are, coming here and threatening me under my own roof?" he asked scornfully from his position on the ground. The villagers now turned their poisonous words towards Horace. The knight glanced over to the stairwell, where he could see the angry expressions on his friends' faces. He nodded at them.
"My name is Horace Altman. Future king of Araluen," he announced for everyone in the taproom to hear. Silence fell immediately. All villagers were staring at him, painfully aware of the horrible things they had just yelled at him. The innkeeper's eyes widened, as soon as he realized he had been taunting the wrong man. Eden came to face him, an expression of shock on his face.
"You didn't tell me that... I didn't know you... How is this...?" he stuttered. Horace sent him a smile and mumbled something about explaining later. He took a look around him and saw a lot of mouths hanging open. He chuckled for a moment, then he focused on the task at hand. He made his way to the kitchen door, dragging it open. The kitchen personnel, who had been listening to the developments in the taproom from behind the door, quickly ran off into the kitchen. Horace noticed a young woman trying to hide between the door and a cupboard, hoping he wouldn't see her.
"Would you be as kind as to lead me to the innkeeper's private chambers?" he asked in a friendly voice. The woman reluctantly nodded, too afraid to say no. She hastily moved towards the other side of the kitchen, to another door. Horace sent her a grateful nod and opened the door, while she ran off back to the other side.
He arrived in a small living room, from which two doors led the way to other chambers. He opened the one on the left and looked around the bedroom that had now been revealed. No sign of Celia. He had more luck with the door on the right: this one hid a stairwell leading down.
"Wait here," he told Eden, who nodded nervously. He still wasn't used to the idea of Horace as the heir to the throne of the country of his dreams. Horace lit a torch and made his way down the stairs, frowning. What use was a basement to an innkeeper? It would've made sense if the stairs were positioned in the kitchen, as a wine cellar or storing place for beer barrels. But in his private chambers? It didn't make sense.
"Celia?" Horace tried, tense, as soon as he arrived at the bottom of the stairs. The only answer was the echo of his voice in the dark space. Goosebumps started to form on his skin. What kind of place was this? He slowly made his way forward, his torch barely illuminating the room, due to dampness affecting the flames and the space simply being too big to light up with one torch. A sense of dread came over him as he stepped into a puddle. Would there have been a leakage? It would explain the dampness, but his gut told him otherwise. Horace crouched down, holding the torch closer to the liquid. A dull, reddish brown reflection appeared. Horace gasped: blood. Being as close to it as he was now, he could see that he had reached the wall. A door ominously hid the source of the blood. He opened the door, his heart racing, anticipating what he was about to see.
"Celia!" he exclaimed, startled. The girl leaned against the wall of what he could now see was a small cubicle, her eyes closed. Her left hand covered a wound on her right arm, from which blood trickled down. As soon as she heard her name, her eyes fluttered open.
"Celia, I'm going to get you out of here," Horace informed her. He drew his sword and carefully cut through her ties. Due to loss of blood, the girl could barely stand up. Horace out his sword back in his scabbard and lifted her up with one arm, still holding the torch with the other. He found his way back to the stairs and slowly ascended it. If he had been in Araluen, he would have had the innkeeper sent to trial immediately. Unfortunately this was Picta and he had no jurisdiction here.
When he reached the top of the stairs, he was startled to find that the innkeeper had overwon his fear and was now holding a knife to Eden's throat. Eden sent Horace a silent plea for help, before staring in horror at what happened to his lover.
"Put the girl to the ground, boy," the innkeeper ordered tauntingly, an evil smile on his face. "Otherwise this one will lose his head." He let out a mean chuckle, while Horace slowly lowered Celia to the ground, a feeling of powerlessness washing over him.
"Oh, why not anyways?" the innkeeper mumbled, dangerously cheerful, putting more and more pressure on the knife. Eden's breathing hastened, tears flowing down his face.
"Oh, I don't think so." Horace felt like screaming with joy, as he saw Alyss stepping into the room, pricking her saber in the man's back. The innkeeper stiffened, his smile slowly fading away.
"Let go of that knife," Alyss ordered coldly, while Horace saw an opportunity to draw his sword. Reluctantly the innkeeper did as he was told and dropped the knife. Desperately trying to turn the situation back into his favour, the innkeeper pushed Eden towards Horace and tried to escape into the basement. Horace had expected something like this would happen, caught Eden and tripped the innkeeper. The man rolled face first down the stairs. An ominous silence was all that remained. Horace slowly closed the door, ignoring the dreadful feeling that came upon him.
He kneeled next to Eden and Celia. Eden was staring at her face, wrapping his arms around her and resting her head on his lap, an expression of despair on his face.
"What have I done to you, Celia?" he mumbled miserably. "I never should have asked you to come with me. None of this would've happened and you could have had the life you deserve." Horace put his hand on Eden's arm.
"Don't you ever say something like that again, you hear me? You and Celia belong together. It is not over yet," he said in a powerful voice. Eden looked at him sadly, attempting to tell Horace how much better her life could have been, but Horace gestured for him to shut up.
"I don't want to hear it! Do you love her?" he asked. Eden nodded immediately. "Then this discussion is closed." Eden didn't protest any further, instead watching as Horace started to clean and bind Celia's wound.
"Thank you, Horace," he simply said. "You are the best friend we could have wished for." Horace smiled, laying the last hand on the bindings. The he helped Eden to stand up while holding Celia.
"Come on. We have a trip to Araluen to plan," he said. Together they made their way through the kitchen into the taproom, where most of the villagers had now gathered. They quickly opened up a path for Horace and Eden, who walked straight out without saying a word. Alyss, who had gone to fetch Duncan, Pauline, Cassandra and the necessary provisions, joined them and the others followed. The seven of them left the village, without feeling the slightest hint of remorse.
It wasn't before sunset that they dared to set up camp. After walking all day, they had reached a relatively safe distance from the village, meaning they wouldn't have to worry about that for a while. Horace lit a small fire, hoping to get Eden's spirits up again. He silently stared into the fire, his arms wrapped around the sleeping Celia.
"What is the plan now?" Duncan asked, keeping his head cool. Horace thought about it for a moment. For some reason he had been silently chosen as leader. It didn't occur to him that this was because he was the one to keep everyone going, to give them hope.
"I guess we should start by finding the coast first," he suggested. "Then we need to find a ship with a crew willing to take us to Skandia, or at least closer to it." Duncan nodded approvingly.
"That sounds like a plan," he said. Alyss, who had started to prepare a meal, announced that dinner was ready. Horace's stomach rumbled approvingly. He had skipped breakfast after all. It wasn't the most satisfying meal, due to the fact they had no clue how long their provisions needed to last; Alyss had prepared small portions to be safe. Horace didn't care much: food was food.
When the sun had completely set and the food had been consumed, Horace offered to take first watch. He found himself a suitable spot a small distance away from his friends and looked on as the fell asleep one by one. A sense of warmth and security washed over him; his friends. He trusted every single one of them with his life.
Cassandra woke him up as the first light of day touched his face. Yawning he helped clearing their camp; it was time to continue their travels. Celia had benefited much from a good night's rest. She was still pale, but she was now able to walk without needing support. Horace chuckled as he noticed she used this as an opportunity to move on real close to Eden.
Eden led the way, taking them in the direction he thought would bring them to the coast. He told them that the innkeeper had once sent him this way to fetch a package from a big harbour. He assured them they would be able to find a ship headed for Skandia there. Horace decided to trust his word for it, though he had his doubts whether it would be a good idea to go to a big harbour. They were still trying to protect their identities after all.
It took them several more hours to reach the coast, though the harbour was nowhere to be seen. Disappointed, Eden looked around, hoping the harbour would magically appear somewhere.
"I really thought it would be here," he admitted sheepishly. He started to look behind bushes, trying to find it. Horace chuckled.
"I don't think the harbour hid under a bush, Eden," he remarked. Eden ignored him, expanding his search to a bed of flowers a few meters further. Horace smiled, shook his head and decided to let Eden be for a while. He was astonished to find Eden gasping, pointing towards something behind him. His eyes were big with enthusiasm.
"Look! It isn't the harbour, but it is a ship!" he exclaimed, gesturing for Horace and his friends to come closer. Horace walked over to where he was standing and noticed that there was a small bay below them. A steep slope, pierced by thick roots, led down towards a narrow sandy beach. And mounted on that beach was a ship. A Skandian ship. A broad grin split open Horace's face as soon as he recognized the ship.
"Come on, everyone! Eden found our ride to Skandia," he called over his shoulder to the others waiting amongst the trees. Without waiting for an answer, Horace slid down the slope.
"Horace! Come back, you don't know how they'll react to you," Eden hissed panicky from above him. Horace didn't listen; he knew exactly how they'd react to him.
"Long time no see!" Horace called out to the Skandians, still grinning from ear to ear. Several battle axes and swords were pointed in his direction and he quickly rose his hands in defense, waiting for them to recognize him. "Is this really how you greet your friends?" he joked, as soon as he saw the skirl making his way forward. The skirl mimicked his grin.
"General!" Gundar roared, bursting out into laughter. "What on earth brings you here, in this godforsaken place?" Horace turned around to see his friends following after him, though somewhat hesitantly. "It's good to see you again, Gundar!" Horace said cheerfully, when he had turned back. "Are you by any chance on your way to Skandia? And do you have room for some passengers?" Gundar put his hands on his hips."Of course we are on our way to Skandia! Did you think we were hanging around here for fun?!" he exclaimed. "And we always have room for our good friend!" Horace chuckled and started to explain what had happened the past weeks. Gundar snorted when Horace told him they were on the run from Scoti."We had the same problem! We came close to the coastline and - out of nowhere - they attacked us! I've had to buy some new sails after all the damage they'd done to them," he grumbled. Horace nodded regretfully and continued his story. When he was finished, Gundar took some time to take it all in."I already wondered where the little ranger had gone," he remarked dryly. "Though it wouldn't have surprised me if he'd just popped up out of nowhere." Horace chuckled. Will was good at that. A moment of silence stretched on."We are good to go!" a familiar voice called out from aboard the ship/Great!" Gundar answered. "Good work, Nils!" Horace grinned. He could have known. One by one the Skandians climbed aboard and Horace gestured for his friends to follow. Cassandra was the first to put her doubts aside. Alyss followed her example, which then convinced Duncan and Pauline too. Horace assisted Eden on bringing Celia aboard and lastly, the two of them made their way up. For a moment the ship was floating around directionless, until Gundar ordered the sail to be hoisted and they slowly started to make their way towards open sea. Towards freedom.