Page 73 of Tashama
The prince kneed his horse to step closer to the voice. “Are you not afraid of me?”
“I am Tashama, and I am not afraid.”
“Tashama.”
“Lower your voice, Prince, or they will find us.”
“Tashama.” Aleron’s heart surged. He urged his steed forward. “Where is your escort?”
“We’ve become separated in the mist, and the woodland sprites have led me to you.”
A hand touched his leg, and he looked down at Tashama, clothed in white lace. “Where is your horse?”
“He knocked me from my saddle,” she whispered. “He was not supposed to have done such a thing.”
Aleron reached for her arm, but she stepped back. She blended with the mist, and he pleaded, “Come with me, Tashama. Ride with me.”
“No, we must escape to the mountains. There is a way, but the horse cannot follow the way we must go.”
“I won’t leave my steed.”
“He’ll return home on his own.”
“My people will think me dead.”
“You will be so, if you don’t come with me. Do you not feel the shaking of the earth beneath your horses’ hooves? Do you not feel the air warm with the breath of their horses as they surround us even now? They have not freed your men yet, Prince. Without me to use as a bargaining tool, Loran will not free them. I will not go with him willingly.”
Aleron stared at the mist. He couldn’t go with her, but he couldn’t leave her alone. She was his prisoner. No, she was the one he loved. “Tashama.”
“Goodbye, my prince.”
“Tashama, wait.” He jumped from his saddle, grabbed a pack, then slapped the horse’s rump. “Wait for me.” His voice was dark and hushed this time.
“Over here,” she urged him. He ran to her side, and she handed him a tunic and breeches of white. “Wear these. They’ll help to cloak you from their view.”
“Where did you...”
“The thieves.”
“Was Listra with you?” The prince fumbled with his ties. Her hand reached over to help. Her fingers deftly untied the leather ties as he pulled his tunic off. She smiled at the sight of his bare chest. Warmed inside, he fought the urge to pull her close so she could feel his smooth chest against her breast. He grabbed the white tunic. She tucked his own into his bag while he changed into white breeches. Once done, he grabbed her arm. “Where do we go now?”
Tashama hesitated as a woodland sprite dropped from an elm. “We follow the stream winding its way through the forest near here. Come.” Tashama hurried along the unmarked path toward the water flowing nearby as the prince still gripped her arm.
Horses’ hooves filled the air behind them as they navigated through the twisted tree branches, grabbing at her hair. One caught hold, and the prince hurried to untangle the branch. She grabbed his hand. “Boost me up!”
“What?”
“Into the tree. Boost me toward that branch.”
The prince grasped her by the waist and hoisted her toward the branch. She climbed onto the limb, and he joined her.
They rose higher into the safety of the tree, and as they drew close to the trunk, horses’ snorting filled the air.
“What do you see, Valmor?” a gruff voice said.
“She has been here, Prince Loran, but I’ve lost track of her.”
“Continue the search!”
