If Sam Cortland Lived

Chapter 9

Chaol's horse ambled through the woods at the front of the hunting party, Dorian chatting up a nearby noble of sorts about some slave trade agreement. He had to give his friend credit, despite all the cruelty of their court he still attempted to get the best policies passed without his father ever catching wind.

They were about two day's trek from Rifthold at a normal pace, but they had been out for three days due to the meandering nobles and their tendencies to wander off. Chaol only had to kill two deer so far to boost the egos of the poor shots surrounding him. It made the nobles feel better though, and put them in better moods, which helped the prince beside him.

Dorian, he knew though, was pushing in a certain direction today. He was following something, searching for something. His friend never really found interest in where they went on these ridiculous hunting trips, but today was different. There was a different air about the prince.

When he declared for them to stop midday for lunch, Chaol knew he was correct. As Dorian managed to blend himself into the background and take off into the woods on his horse, Chaol giving chase close behind.

"Dorian, what in the name of the gods are you doing?"

Dorian skidded to a halt on a path, a carriage headed straight for them. A young man and a haggered girl sitting on the driver's seat of the carriage. Chaol's instinct was to draw his sword, his mare stomping her hooves in anticipation below him. Dorian put his hand up to make him pause.

The carriage came to a stop, the man in the seat looking at them, realizing he could not run, spoke before he could be addressed, "I'm sorry, my wife is rather ill. May we pass by? I need to get her back to Rifthold to our home and a physician."

Chaol was not at all convinced, but Dorian was already on it, "Sam Cortland, I know that Celaena Sardothien is an unmarried woman. I believe it would be in your best interest to bow in the presence of a prince, and think about your next move wisely."

The boy froze, and now Chaol saw it. The same two from the throne room, but haggard and much worse for wear. How Dorian had any idea they were here, how they escaped Endovier was even beyond him.

Celaena Sardothien was suddenly alert, looking towards them. And he saw it then, that glint in her eye of pure hatred. Her voice was steady, arrogant and conniving, "In the presence of a prince I should at least be looking a bit better than this. But, that does not change the fact that you'd know we'd be here just now. How?"

Dorian gave no explanation, no answer to her question. Instead, he declared, "I wish to make a deal with you, Celaena Sardothien."