Page 75 of Arrows and Gems
“Ask Cap what he thinks of my plans,” Rouge huffed. She glanced over her shoulder at their friends. “But my impression is that yours wouldn’t be better.”
“I resent that comment.” Helena cast a quick eye over Rouge. “You lead and I’ll bring up the rear?”
Rouge hadn’t been exaggerating about the distance. Helena could feel sweat building up on her palms despite the chilly air. They’d been walking for several minutes, and the path had yet to open up. She wanted to urge Alanna into a jog, but their packs were too heavy for sustaining a faster pace.
Step by hurried step, they made their way down the road. But just when Helena spotted a break in the cliff face, she heard the sound she’d been dreading: the steady clip-clop of a horse’s hooves.
“Run!” she hissed to Alanna. Lunging forward, she jabbed Tucker’s shoulder and jerked her head behind them. “Pass the word. We need to get off the road!”
They could protest their association with Le Capuchon, but few would believe they were a group of homeless peasants journeying through the mountains. In the middle of winter.With camouflaged tents.
The hoofbeats grew louder as Helena grabbed Alanna’s hand and pulled her forward. Rouge reached the trees and beckoned frantically. Fifty more feet, and Helena and Alanna would be there. Forty. Thirty.
Twisting her head, Helena saw a young man in a guard uniform cantering toward them. She couldn’t read his face from this distance, but his posture announced that he had spotted them.
“Tucker!” Helena grabbed his hand and stuffed Alanna’s into it. “Get her to safety!”
“But what about you?” Worry flooded his voice as Helena dug in her heels and spun around.
“I’ll be fine. Now move!”
She tugged her hood over her face. How did Cap see like this?
Planting her feet, she raised her bow and pointed the arrow at the young rider’s chest. Deepening her voice, she barked out, “Halt!”
The rider sat back and jerked his reins, drawing his horse to a walk. “Why should I? The king’s guard doesn’t bow to highwaymen.”
“King?” she scoffed. “What king? The king is dead, and his son cowers in fear of the regent. And the regent cowers in fear of Le Capuchon.”
“Le Capuchon?” the young guard laughed. “It’s an easy claim to make. But why should I believe that you are he?”
She tilted her head to the side. “Shall I put an arrow in your knee to prove it? Or perhaps your sword arm?”
A trace of unease flickered in his eyes. “I don’t believe you.”
“Your loss.”
“Wait!” he yelped when her aim adjusted. “What do youwant from me?” His eyes darted over her shoulder, but she didn’t take her eyes off him. “I don’t carry enough coin to make it worth your while.”
She needed to cover the fact that she was protecting the others. “Your satchel,” she demanded, taking inspiration from past experience. “Take it off and drop it on the ground. Then turn your horse and run back the way you came from.”
One hand grabbed convulsively at the strap. “What if I don’t?”
A tremor in her arm warned Helena that she’d held her draw for too long. She was in the habit of quick draws and releases; she didn’t stand for minutes at a time with the bow bent.
“Are the contents worth your life?” she snapped.
“I’ve heard Le Capuchon doesn’t kill unnecessarily,” the young man replied hesitantly. “Would you really kill me over the contents?”
Cap wouldn’t. And the thought of injuring someone was adding a tremble to her hands that had nothing to do with muscle fatigue. But she couldn’t let this young guard know that. If he knew she wouldn’t shoot him, he would ignore her.
“The last person who refused me her satchel couldn’t string a bow for weeks,” Helena replied coolly. “Would you like to be next?”
He gulped. His fingers fluttered over the strap while his eyes darted around, but he didn’t remove the satchel.
Helena adjusted her aim to his right shoulder. He didn’t carry a bow, and she was struggling to keep the arrow steady. She didn’t want to accidentally shoot him someplace critical.
“You have to the count of three. Then you learn why I’m feared. One.”
