The Silver Crown

6.

I took my knife and ducked under the waving sword to stab the guard in the thigh. He yelled and fell. I spun, searching for a way out. The entire cobbled road was covered with people. Citizens were rioting on the sides of the streets and Royal Guards poured in, more by the minute. They were here to get me and to keep the riots from spreading. I needed a way out of this chaos though, and I couldn't see one from here.

I sprinted towards a carriage a couple yards away. I had to go through a line of guardsmen to get there. I hit an uneven cobblestone and felt a slice open up on the bottom of my foot. Refusing to acknowledge the pain, I kept running, leaving bloody footprints in my wake.

I dropped down and rolled between the feet of one of the guards and darted past the horses, slowing down when I realized the man on the large bay horse was wearing a crown. I faltered, reality hitting me like a ton of bricks. I was running past the uncontested sovereign of Arovia. Not uncontested for long, I thought, surprised at my viciousness.

I had never been so close to the king. I had seen him from a distance during previous parades. But from a distance the gray hairs on his head and in his beard couldn't be seen. Neither could the wrinkles around his eyes or the scar on his cheek. He was looking right at me, his eyes cold, his fingers white on the hilt of his ceremonial sword.

I shook off his disconcerting gaze and hurried past to vault onto the back of one of the white horses pulling the carriage. White faces of small children were pressed against the windows, watching me. I jumped up to stand on the top of the carriage. I heard a shriek from inside the carriage. I surveyed the crowds; the uniformed men coming after me did not escape my attention. I readjusted my grip on my knife. The sultry heat was making the hilt slippery in my grasp.

An opening in the crowd caught my attention. If I jumped down and landed right...there, I could jump on the back of that vacated horse and ride off. I hated horses but in this instance it was necessary; people would get out of the way of a horse. I could jump off and hide in the city. I could easily loose the guards on a hunt through my city.

Unexpectedly I felt a shooting pain in my left calf. I glanced down to see a purple fletched arrow sticking out of my leg. I cursed; I had forgot about the archers! I pictured Tobin, being lead away—a lamb on his way to the slaughter—and gritted my teeth. I would outlast this pain for him.

I yanked the arrow out of my leg, grinding my teeth against the flaring pain and flung it to the side. It clattered harmlessly on the stones as I kept my eyes on the spot that signified my freedom. Blood pumped from my burning calf. I leaped off the roof of the carriage, did a front flip and landed rolling. I sprang to my feet, muscles stretching, and bolted for the horse.

I never reached it.

A hand grabbed my injured right shoulder. A shriek that I had no control over tore from my lungs.

I whirled around to face my new opponent gasping with the pain still radiating through my quivering body. I struck out with the knife still gripped tightly in my fingers and missed. The guard swung for my head with his large broadsword and I jumped back. The sword tip just barely clipped my forehead. I threw my knife and hit him in the shoulder, almost the same place I had been hit by the Market King. He stumbled back and I saw another opening.

I surged forward, determined to make it to the horse, but someone else stood in my way. I wiped the blood out of my eyes and examined my new opponent. He also had a sword, which gave him the advantage of a longer weapon. It is a good thing I am quick or I would have never gotten close enough to use my knife. I dove for the ground by his legs, striking out and rolling past him. He fell forward.

I was a mere one step away from the horse. I launched myself at the black horse only to fall short again. This time a net, a big and rough brown net, separated me from the black horse. It pulled me to the ground, seeming to weigh a hundred pounds. My freedom and my future were disappearing in front of me.

I struggled underneath the net trying to worm my way out from under a side, but I didn't even see a side I could escape from. A guard reached through the holes in the net and plucked the knife out of my hand. It was like taking riches from a dead man. This, more than anything, made me feel defeated.

I was hauled out from under the net and pulled to my feet. Two guards stepped up on either side of me, each holding an arm. They pulled me forward until I was in front of another Royal Guard. This one had a different uniform that marked him as a higher rank. I could guess from the ways the other men stood around him and from the elaborate design on his tunic that he was the captain.

He grabbed my chin, his hands cool in the clammy weather, and forced me to look up at him. I hated being forced to do anything against my will and before I could even think about the situation, I spit blood in his face. He didn't take to it too well and hit me in the stomach. I groaned and doubled over, wanting to smack myself for my stupidity. Tobin needed me alive and well to get him out, not locked up in a cell for the rest of my life or executed as a traitor, which was beginning to look more and more like it would be my future.

The two guards on either side of me jerked me back upright. Then the captain spoke, "Lock her up! I'll deal with it after the parade."

"Yes, sir," The two guards responded in unison.

My hands were quickly tied behind my back and I was half lead, half dragged away by the guards.

At least the Market Kings hadn't killed me.