Jack Frost: King of Thieves

CHAPTER X: Make Our Own Fate

Jack and the others could see the battle unfolding from the stocks. They heard the great roar from the Southern Isles army when the gates fell, and they watched as men swarmed the castle. Despite being held in the blocks, Jack was glad. As bad as things stood right now, they would have been far worse had the siege failed.

He was surprised when he saw Jamie running back toward them, and even more so when he saw how pale the lad looked. Were those tears in his eyes?

"The king is dead!" the young man said, halting in front of them, out of breath and clearly frightened.

Jack felt as if he had been kicked in the gut. Manny had become less than he was; all that happened in Acra and on the long journey back from Theocracy had diminished him. But still, he was their king, the leader of every Southern Isles soldier on this field. Jack looked at Peter, Sinbad, and Ester, and saw his shock mirrored in their faces. They were all looking at him, waiting to see what he would do.

"Then knock the peg out, Jamie," he said, facing the lad again. "We make our own fate now."

Jamie unlocked the stocks, starting with Jack's. One by one, he freed the others. The fighting continued by the castle walls on the hill above them. There had been no pronouncement about Manny; there had been no pause in the battle.

"I'll come with you," Ester said, retrieving his stave and pack.

Peter shook his head. "No, you're not. We don't take strays."

"Hold on, Peter," Jack said, raising a hand to the welt on his forehead. "The more the merrier. The road could be dangerous. He might be useful."

Peter scowled. "A useful Ozzy? Not possible."

"More probable than a useful Neverland man," Sinbad said, grinning.

"You are welcome to join us," Jack told Ester. "You'll have to put up with these two though."

"Thanks," Ester said with a smile. "No problem. The wee orange one is quite amusing."

"Where are we going?" Jamie asked.

Jack shouldered his pack. "To the coast. To a boat. Before five thousand desperate soldiers descend and the price for passage across the channel multiplies a hundredfold."

The others began to gather their things, but Peter hesitated, glancing back toward the castle and the rest of the Southern Isles army.

"What about our wages?" he asked. "They haven't paid us in a month."

Jack laughed bitterly. "You think it was tough getting wages when he was alive, try getting paid by a dead king. Collect your gear as quickly as you can."

They made for the forest and had no trouble leaving. The pickets had moved forward to join the fighting, leaving no one to guard the stocks or the edge of the camp. Soon they had stepped into the shadows of Cyan and were heading toward the coast. Jack took the lead, and Ester walked at the rear, glancing back occasionally to make sure they weren't followed.

For the first hour or more, Jack pushed them hard, eschewing rests and setting a brisk pace. He didn't think anyone would come after them, but he wasn't taking any chances. At last though, as the sun reached its zenith over the trees, and the still air in the wood grew warm, Jack called for a stop by a small, sparkling stream.

Peter, Sinbad, and Jamie immediately removed their packs and began to rearrange their belongings. Ester walked down to the stream and splashed some water on his face. Jack took off his armour and fit it into his pack among his other things. When the others were ready, Jack shouldered his pack once more.

"Right," he said. "Let's get moving."