Prince on the Run by Guy Antibes

Author:Guy Antibes [Antibes, Guy]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Casiepress LLC
Published: 2020-06-24T22:00:00+00:00

Chapter Eighteen

~

S oldiers eyed Boxster and Trevor with suspicion as they entered the West Moreton camp. At least they had been allowed to ride their horses, even though their hands were tied and enemy soldiers held the reins. The camp was orderly and extensive. This was no army on the run, he thought.

Trevor thought about using his knees to command the horse to break away, but the chances of that working were slim, and without any weapons, he wouldn’t be able to fight back if caught. He wanted to talk to Boxster, but the gags made whispering mostly unintelligible.

At least the soldiers weren’t throwing rocks, although if their expressions could kill, Trevor and Boxster’s bodies would have been dried husks. They were led to the center of the place along a broad avenue flanked by orderly rows of tents. Trevor had always thought that the West Moretons were an undisciplined rabble, but that wasn’t the case, at least by observing how they set up their camp.

An older man with long sideburns and chin whiskers stepped out of the tent with a uniform tunic over a nightshirt. “What have we here?”

“They did our work for us,” the leader of the men who captured Trevor and Boxster said. “This is Prince Arcwin, and I am thinking, his second in command.”

“Help them down, but keep them bound,” the West Moreton officer said. He stared up into Trevor’s eyes. “You are a tall one. Someone, take off the gag.”

A soldier rushed forward and took the gags off Boxster and Trevor.

“Which of you attacked my sentries?”

“Whom am I addressing?” Trevor asked.

“Ah, you must be the prince. You are so mannerly. I am Commander Audacious Periwinkle.”

“Most of my men attacked sentries, but I was told no deaths occurred.”

Periwinkle thrust out his lower lip and plucked at it. “No one was killed, and I found that curious.”

“I didn’t want you too antagonized,” Trevor said. “An injured man brings pity, but a dead man brings revenge.”

Periwinkle laughed in Trevor’s face. “Sounds like Dryden’s drivel. Any attack elicits revenge for us.”

“If we killed your sentries, wouldn’t your band of men have killed my sergeant and myself out of hand?”

“No. You are naive, but then you are very young. You may have some value as a hostage.”

Trevor laughed. “I just finished fending off an assassination ordered by someone in Tarviston castle. I doubt my worth is very great.”

Boxster sighed just loud enough for Trevor to realize his mistake. The more his worth, the longer his life, and he had just said his life was worthless. Trevor hoped his error wasn’t fatal. There wasn’t anything he could do but stand and hope the commander gave him more information. He had read in the scouting journal that enemy intelligence was the currency that made a scout valuable. Periwinkle’s attention turned to Boxster. “And you are?”

“Master Sergeant Desolation Boxster, sir.”

“At least you treat me with respect. Tell me of your conflict with our sentries.” Periwinkle turned his gaze to Trevor before he narrowed his eyes, looking at Boxster.

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