Page 40 of Kingdom of Chains

The sun rose in the exact spot she hoped it would, painting the frosty grass in pink light as it kissed the horizon. She stopped to admire the sight, enjoying the open space and distinct lack of walls. Then, looking to the trees ahead of her, she said aloud, ‘Where are you, Ita?’

Margery hovered overhead, causing the horse to lift its head and sidestep.

‘Easy,’ Isabel told the gelding, stroking his neck. ‘You are quite safe being the size you are.’ She looked up as Margery flew off towards the trees. ‘I think you hurt her feelings.’

Isabel mounted the horse and continued along the creek at a steady walk. She was soon swallowed up by tall oaks and glistening beech trees. Weaving quietly between the thick trunks, she navigated the bulging roots rising from the ground.

She was just beginning to warm up when an uneasy feeling took hold of her. Isabel looked around for Margery, but the eagle was nowhere to be seen. There was nothing to do except continue forwards. The goal was always to be found, so to fear that part seemed senseless. But she was afraid anyway. Afraidshe would be shot in the back and left to rot in the woods, but more afraid of dying without ever finding Ita.

The uneasy feeling grew until she could barely draw breath. Stopping her horse, she looked around in all directions. Nothing. Her heart was thudding so loudly now that she could no longer hear the running water from the creek. Someone was near—watching her.

Letting go of the reins, she raised both hands in the air and shouted, ‘I am unarmed. Please do not shoot me.’ She wished she could pull her hood back and show her face, but she was too scared to reach for it.

Silence… until she heard the creak of a bow.

‘I am searching for a friend and pose no threat.’ The words came out shaky.

The trees stirred to her left, and a man emerged on foot with a loaded bow aimed at her. She kept her eyes ahead, too afraid to look directly at him.

‘Dismount and get on your knees,’ he instructed.

Hands shaking, Isabel climbed off her horse and got down on her knees. ‘I am looking for Ita Chapman.’

‘I want your eyes on the ground and hands on your head.’ His tone was far more aggressive this time.

Her breaths came faster, her vision blurring. ‘Please. I am alone, and I have no weapons.’

‘The reason I stand here alive and free is because our kind know your kind are all fucking liars.’

She pressed her eyes closed. ‘I swear to you.’

He took a few steps fowards. ‘If there’s a God you would like to pray to, now’s the time.’

Isabel held her breath when she heard the bow creak again, the sound cut off by a familiar beating of wings. Her eyes snapped open, and she saw the eagle dive at him in warning. Fearing for the bird, she shouted, ‘Margery, leave!’

The eagle took off again, flying up and away.

Out of the corner of her eye, Isabel saw the man lower his bow. She dared a glance in his direction. He was probably only a few years older than her, but his hardened features and the silver scar crossing one eye were evidence of a tough few years.

‘What did you say?’ he asked, his voice quieter now.

Isabel shook her head. ‘Nothing.’

He took a step in her direction, and she tensed.

‘You spoke to the eagle.’

Her mind scrambled to try and remember what she had said. ‘I… I didn’t want her to get hurt.’

He continued to stare at her. ‘You know the bird’s name.’

As did he, it seemed. And there was only one way he could have found it out. ‘You know Ita?’

Nothing changed on his face.

‘Where is she?’

He looked over his shoulder as a cloaked figure stepped out from behind one of the trees, face partially covered by the hood of their cloak. Isabel did not need to see her face to recognise her. She would recognise Ita anywhere. Via form, height, posture. Via heart waves.

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