Page 107 of A Tenuous Betrothal
Frederick brought out a third horse. “Agreed,” he said with a tilt of his head.
They mounted, and with no servants, no security, and no one else to assist them, the three rode out into the night toward the teams already in place, following the moon, for many hours.
Chapter Thirty-Four
Marc was uncertain how muchtime had passed when he next opened his eyes, but at last his mind felt more alert. The horses had stopped. Sounds of the men conversing behind him seemed far away. They were arguing about something, and from the sounds of things, they were much into their cups. He tried to lift his head to get a better understanding of his surroundings but almost gasped in pain. His neck was stiff and possibly injured. He wiggled, trying to figure out how he was tied down to the horse.
He rotated his legs, shifting himself around, and realized too late that nothing tied him down. He moved his legs too quickly and landed on his head in the dirt. Promptly, the world went black again.
When he opened his eyes once more, his hands were tied together behind him, and he was lying on the ground, his cheek in the dirt. The night was dark and silent.
He blinked several times to attempt to see, then realized any light was blocked by an enormous tree trunk right in front of his face.
They’d left his feet free. He wiggled around, holding his breath to stop himself from grunting and waking the others, though he’d never felt so much pain. His head pounded. His shoulder ached and, depending on the movement, felt sharp pain. When he was at last standing and blinking through the sudden clouds in his vision, he ducked and crept away from the sounds of conversation but was suddenly jerked to a stop. His legs were not tied together, but one of his ankles was attached to a rope.
He jerked at it, but it was firm. Judging by the direction it led, he was quite possibly tied to the enormous tree trunk. Not going anywhere.
If the rope were in his hands, he could possibly untie the knot behind his back. He twisted and looked and then lowered himself to the ground so that he was almost sitting on the knot at his ankle. Then he shifted and moved until he could feel it in his hands.
He started to work on it. The tight bundle was at first difficult to recognize with his fingers. But, after a time, he felt individual strands of ropes. And even though they were tight, he started jerking and tugging them, hoping to loosen them enough to free himself. His fingers soon started to ache from the effort of tugging at ropes that did not want to budge, but he kept at it.
His stocking-covered foot began to tingle in numbness because of the weight of his body, but he could only smile at the missing boot. If his boot was still out there, others could follow his trail.
He seemed to be in a clearing with some trees. It smelled like a forest, thick with vegetation. The hum of insects was oddly missing though. The whole area was silent except for the somewhat distant voices.
And he was determined to put them as far behind him as he could. As soon as he could walk more than ten feet away.
Rhi rode hard, with Frederick and Kristoff at her sides. It took them longer than she would have liked, but at last they were standing on the edge of a forest, with a tree to their right.
“This is it. The cravat was here.” A man had met them partway there and led them to the spot. “We’ve checked all the surrounding area for breaks in twigs, tracks in the dirt, any evidence of a group traveling. But the trail goes cold a few miles out.”
Frederick adjusted his seat while his horse pawed the ground. “Could you lead us in the direction you’re pretty sure they’ve gone?”
“Of course.” He dipped his head.
They followed on foot. Rhi and the brothers scoured the ground, the trees, the bushes, for anything personal of Marc’s.
Hours went by. The sun went down and the lanterns came out. They were at last moving closer to the spot where the others had lost the trail when Kristoff called, “I have a button!” He held it up.
The others crowded around, and the man grunted. “This is not the direction we took the scouts.”
Rhi’s waning energy ignited once again. They followed the trail at a faster pace now. After a time, it was easier to see where a group had traveled.
Their guide left to regather some of their group to begin searching in this new direction. The three found more clues left by Marc. First, a bit of fabric.
“Look.” Frederick held up a boot. On the bottom, the signature of the royal tailor marked it as most definitely Marc’s.
Rhi wanted to hug it to her. All she could think about was the relief of knowing that, at least until this point, Marc had been alive. If his captors hadn’t killed him yet, they likely weren’t planning on it anytime soon. She hoped.
But after that, the tracks became more difficult to follow. The moon had risen and the stars were out, but shadows had to be illuminated by the lanterns they carried. The boot had been left in an odd place for the group to have traveled, but the three followed anyway, leaving markers of their own for the others behind them. Many hours went by with nothing to show them the way, except typical movement of people along a path. Nothing personal of Marc’s.
Rhi finally asked what she’d been thinking for the last hour. “Do you really think this is the way they went?”
“What can the boot mean if not that?” Kristoff shook his head.
They pushed on in silence, but the path became more and more dense, the vegetation overtaking the path to such a degree that it would have been nearly impossible for horses and a group of men to have traveled it recently.
“I don’t understand.” Rhi breathed out, trying to think she could go on forever, that she was able and ready, but her body was starting to lean, her back was sore, and her hands shook with fatigue.
