Page 15 of Arrows and Gems
One of the guards released a string of words that wouldn’t be out of place on a ship. Another put his hands on his hips and sighed. “We’ll never catch them now. General Valentin won’t be pleased.”
The third leaned forward to examine something on the ground. “What’s this? A stocking?”
“It’s mine,” Helena interrupted, infusing her voice with regal stiffness. “Since you failed to catch the bandit who deprived me of my things, I demand that you set me free and grant me passage to my destination.”
They all jumped, whipping around to face her. One had his sword half drawn before he spotted her.
“That’s a new low,” one of them snorted as he relaxed. “Now he’s leaving members of his band behind so we don’t grab him?”
“Better take her to the General,” another added. “He’ll want to interrogate her.”
Helena’s mouth dropped open. “I am not a member of his band!” Never mind that she’d tried. “I’m a poor traveler that he kidnapped!”
The guard frowned. “He’s never kidnapped someone before.”
“You say that like you’re disappointed that he’s added it to his repertoire,” Helena noted, narrowing her eyes at him. The guard shifted his weight, eyes flicking toward his companions. “Shouldn’t you be unsurprised that a bandit has sunk to that level?”
One of the others laughed. “Right you are, Miss. Don’t mind Erwan; he believes the stories that Le Capuchon gives his loot to the villagers. Isn’t that right, Erwan?” the man added, elbowing him in the ribs.
“They’re not stories,” Erwan protested. “My—someone I know saw him do it.” Interesting. Why not identify the witness? “And most people who oppose him sustain minor injuries, if any.”
The other guard rolled his eyes. “Being squeamish and a bad shot doesn’t make him noble.”
“A bad shot couldn’t hit the targets he does,” Erwan stubbornly insisted. He folded his arms over his chest. “Easier to hit someone in the chest than above the knee. And every time he takes a shot, it finds a mark. I’m telling you, he minimizes injuries on purpose.”
Was it true? Her own wound wasn’t critical, merely disabling until it healed. And he had tended it...and tied her up.
She was withholding judgment for now.
“I think he mistook me for someone else,” she offeredErwan. It was galling to give Le Capuchon any kind of grace, but the guard was so sincere in his regard. He should know the truth behind his hero’s actions.
The first guard snorted. “Either way, we’ve lost him, and the General will want to speak with any witnesses. Let’s take her back.”
Helena buried her relieved sigh and flashed them a winning grin. “I’m so glad we got that straightened out. If one of you would untie me, I expect we can be on our way.”
~
They didn’t untie her. Erwan was kind enough to walk beside her and steady her at rough patches, but she made the trip back to the road with her arms glued to her sides. It was good for her injured shoulder, but the other one was getting stiff.
Once there, they loaded her into a cart in which they had hoped to transport Le Capuchon. It was humiliating – a princess, treated like a common criminal.
Not that she planned to tell them she was a princess.
A bump in the road knocked her sideways. Unable to catch herself, she fell against the side of the cart, wincing when her shoulder smashed into the wood. Forget his intentions; if she ever saw that bandit again, she was going to—
“It’s only a little farther, Miss.” Looking up, Helena found Erwan’s sympathetic eyes trained on her. He and his horse were trotting next to the cart, keeping watch over the “prisoner” and their injured men.
Not all of them rode in the cart with her, but nearly every guard bore some kind of wound. Two of the men bouncing next to her had suffered the “arrow above the knee” shot Erwan mentioned. One had a slice across his right arm that made it difficult to hold the reins. Another had been shot in the foot.
Helena assumed that one happened on the road. Becausethat seemed like an absurd target if the man had been running.
Regardless, as Erwan had claimed, none of the men had life-threatening injuries. They might be in pain, but they would heal.
She still wanted to take another shot at him, though. Right after she recovered her bow from the no-good thief.
Before long, the trees fell away from the road, and they trundled into the mountainside village of Arles. Log houses sat near the widening road, with more scattered through the trees behind them.
As they pulled to a stop outside a two-story building, a broad-shouldered man stepped up to the cart. His dark hair was trimmed close to his head, but it couldn’t hide the gray at his temples. A broad smile lit his face, and he rubbed his hands together, elbows wide, as he approached Erwan.
