The Prince and the Slave: Book Three

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Sixteen

Abey stared in horror as her husband slumped on the ground, the hand clutching his side slowly turning red as the dark blood seeped through his fingers, Jameson simply laughing over him.

"WILLIAM!" She cried, using every bit of strength she had to crawl towards him. Jameson grinned and took a menacing step towards her, when his laughter suddenly turned to a grunt and shout of pain, as a third arrow whistled through the air and planted itself into his shoulder. He staggered back, crying in pain and anger - but he was no longer Abey's concern, nor was the mystery archer intent at firing arrows at them - the only thing she could focus on now was William, and she pulled his limp and spiritless form into her arms, cradling his upper body as he panted heavily.

"It's alright. Sh, it's fine. You're going to be fine." She whispered into his hair, tears streaming down her face as she tried to convince herself she was telling the truth.

She suddenly felt a presence next to her, and looked up to see four dark figures had emerged from the forest. They all wore dark cloaks over mismatched clothes, and thin, black masks covered the top half of their faces, their eyes all glinting with the reflection of the small fire still burning in the centre of the clearing.

They didn't seem to notice Abey on the ground as they advanced forward, their energies completely focused on the now cowering Jameson - partly out of pain, partly out of fear.

"I thought we told you to leave." The Bandit at the front of the group said with commanding authority, despite their petite stature compared to the other men. They were carrying a Bow and Abey assumed this was the mystery archer from the shadows.

"I don't take commands from the like of you. Filthy Tracorians." Jameson spat, but while also taking a small step backwards, not wanting to be too near to the menacing group.

"We could say the same to you, filthy Angrokorian." The leader spat back, taking another step forward and further into the light. Abey was surprised to see that this Bandit was a young woman, she looked no more than nineteen or twenty, yet seemed to exude the power of a man twice her age and size.

"We have already taken your possessions, stripped you of your sword, and asked you kindly to leave this Kingdom." The Bandit continued, Abey only just noticing the fact Jameson was in nothing but his shirt, trousers and boots. "And yet here you are, still in our Forest, having stolen our weapons from us, and attacking one of our own." She suddenly motioned down to Abey knelt to the side of her, still cradling William and stroking his hair, but staring between Jameson and the Bandits in a mixture of confusion and fear.

The Bandit passed the Bow to one of her colleagues, before drawing a heavy and lethal sword from under her cloak, pointing it at Jameson and taking another step forward, making him physically shrink away from her.

"We warned you what would happen if we ever saw you again." She said menacingly quiet. "So I suggest you run." She whispered at him, and Jameson quickly scurried away into the trees, throwing one last fearful look over his shoulder at the Bandits, ignoring his victims wounded and dying on the floor.

There was a pause as the Bandits continued to stare into the trees where Jameson had disappeared, the leader still holding her sword aloft, the only sound William's ragged breathing and the crackling of the fire.

The female Bandit lowered her sword and looked down at Abey, her face turning from grim frown to concerned smile.

"Are you alright?" She asked softly. Abey didn't say anything but crawled backwards slightly, her eyes wide. "Don't worry, we're not going to hurt you." She said panicking, dropping her sword to the ground and holding up her hands.