Sieged

Chapter Fourteen

The sound of May's bray wakes me and I find myself sitting on the driver's seat of my carriage, reins in hand yet about to slip out. 

I must have closed my eyes on my way back home but I don't remember even feeling tired. 

At a crawl, the carriage meanders down the dark street, the wheels squeaking like a nest of mice. 

I remember endless clouds saw me off when I left Lorma's home. Now the stars shine brightly down, Fey's star twinkling warmly as it always does on a clear night.  

How long did I doze off for? 

Not the smartest of actions, Pannor, I say to myself, as the feeling of being watched creeps through my thoughts and wriggles through my veins. 

And as a cold shiver slithers over my body, I swing my head around, looking to see a figure in the shadows, but there's nobody. 

With a harmless whip of the reins, as if I'm giving an eager pat, May speeds to a trot. And as I continue towards home, the demand that the king placed on me earlier in the day begins weighing down. 

Surely I can't be the last resort of our people, of this kingdom. How am I to convince King Jabora to end the war, to let us be? I'm a man of action not words. I am no diplomat with a silver tongue. 

Maybe I am a legend to our enemy, the emissary at the celebration at the palace telling me such, but I'm not the right man for this. My hatred for the enemy, I have no doubt, will ruin my attempt at diplomacy. 

But perhaps my meeting is of a nefarious nature, a plot thought up by Sir Blouf and the enemy. Could I be walking to my death? 

This is a fallacy by the king but I'll do my duty as always. And if I die, I will take as many as I can with me. That is for sure. 

My home calls at me like a lighttower in rough seas. It beckons me as much as Fey's star above. Owing to the attempts on my life, I should never set foot near it again but it's the only place I feel comfort, relative ease. It was the last place I saw Fey alive and I will not have my life dictated by fiends. 

Yet I do take precautions, halting the carriage several streets away at the end of my travels through the city. 

If the Night Cleaver, my attacker, is waiting for me, I don't want to flaunt my arrival. 

Once May is free from her harness, I begin skulking back home, keeping my ears open, my eyes peeled and my wits about me. It doesn't help that every umbra I see stops me in my tracks. 

I'm rounding a corner when suddenly I hear the clack of a heel behind me, just steps away. 

Is this it? 

As fast as a skipping stone, I spin around expecting to see the face of terror, the face of my nightmares. Instead, it's Trin clad in black, a woolen cap on her head. 

Her hand is quick to muffle my outburst of fright, my anticipated and sadly meagre last intake of breath. 

'Sorry for startling you, Pannor,' she whispers, 'but I'm glad I found you. I was on my way to your house when I saw you.' She takes her hand away from my mouth. 

'You could have called out for me instead of almost putting me in my grave from shock,' I talk softly back. 

'I'm sorry again, but I don't know who could be around listening.' 

There's a seriousness in her tone but it doesn't surprise me. 

'Like who?' I ask, lowering and cocking my head. 'What is it, Trin?'