The Rebel Prince (The Season Series #3)

Chapter 23 - Part 2

Of the three remaining soldiers, the one still charging towards us was clearly the captain, his own sword unsheathed as clumps of dirt flew behind his galloping horse. The two others, however, had stopped, wary of Beatriz racing towards them. The field was littered with the maimed bodies of their fellows, their horses either spooked and gone or still riding in circles with corpses on their backs. When Beatriz's sword met the captain's, the two others yanked their horses' reins and spun back towards the village.

The princess let out a roar that I wasn't quite sure was out of pain or frustration, abandoning her battle with the captain as she raced off in pursuit of the ones retreating. She drew her bow again, but the captain was right behind her, his sword still drawn.

"Look out!" I shouted, not even realizing that I'd spurred my horse into a gallop behind them.

Twisting around, Beatriz loosed her arrow as the sword arced her way. The captain lurched sideways, the arrow shaft protruding from his sword-arm shoulder, his blade slipping through his fingers.

"Make yourself useful, idiota! Finish him!" Beatriz bellowed over her shoulder as the captain veered away, blood seeping through the fabric of his uniform. He swayed in the saddle, fumbling with the arrow shaft and roaring with pain as he attempted to break it.

But he was no longer her concern. Her horse's thundering hooves disappeared over the nearest hill, another arrow loaded in her bow as she chased the two survivors. Slowing my horse to a trot, I stalked the captain as he zig-zagged across the meadow. He struggled with his wound, crying out when he broke the arrow shaft, while my racing heart finally slowed and allowed me to take in the carnage around us as we circled. Men were groaning in pain, the ones who hadn't been graced with a clean shot writhing on the ground as they bled out.

I didn't know whether I'd be able to deliver a clean blow to the captain, or whether I really wanted to. True, he'd attacked me, but he was likely under orders that had originated with Dulciana, and it was no secret that she wanted me dead. But now, with him injured and outnumbered and surrounded by his dying men, killing the captain was not an act of self-defence, as it would have been before.

Now it was murder.

Chucking the arrow shaft away, the captain pivoted his horse, weaponless as he turned to face me. He bared his teeth before lifting his hands in the air.

"I beg mercy from you, for me and my men," he said, moving slowly and wincing with pain as he dismounted from his horse.

I tightened my grip on my sword.

"Don't take another step," I shouted, pointing my sword at him when he made a move towards one of his fallen men, one who was still breathing, but with blood bubbling from his lips thanks to the arrow through his stomach. The dying man's sword lay clutched between his fingers.

"Please, my men need help, they-" the captain continued, reaching towards his fallen comrade's weapon.

He stopped talking when his head lurched backwards, an arrow protruding from his eye socket. He tumbled to the grass as Beatriz reined her horse to a stop, unsheathing her bloody sword and sliding to the grass. She stalked over to the man with the arrow in his belly, yanking his head backwards.

"Stop! His captain asked for mercy!" I shouted, trotting towards her.

But she didn't listen to me, slitting the throat of the dying man with a brutally efficient swipe of her sword.

"Beatriz!" I protested, when she turned towards the next nearest man who was still breathing, attempting to crawl away from us through the grass.

"Mercy! Please, I beg of you don't-" the soldier gurgled, blood spilling from his lips as he wheezed against the arrow through the upper part of his chest.