Marked by Honor - 4

Chapter 4

Halua barely had time to register that it was a man he was staring at before he suddenly reached into the carriage and pulled him away from Prina. He shouted as his arm was yanked at a twisted angle and fought to rip free of the grasp.

Mern launched himself at the man to fend him off. “Unhand her!”

The man snarled behind his mask and punched Mern, throwing him across he carriage. The old man’s head whipped back from the force of the blow and lost conscious. Halua stiffened when the man turned to him again and grabbed for his arm. He twisted and yelled, throwing out his leg in a kick.

It wasn’t easy to move in these clothes at all, and the confined space of the carriage did little to help him. The man jerked him out of the carriage and dragged him down onto the dirt road. Prina fell with them with a silent grunt. She scrambled up to her feet and threw herself at the man and clawed at him while Halua struggled to get to his feet.

The man howled and cursed and threw Prina off him. He whirled around, pulling a knife from his hip, and grabbed her by the hair. Without warning, he slashed across her front, cutting her open. Halua screamed as he saw her fall. “Prina!”

Without really comprehending what was going on, he took in his surroundings. Before him lay his attendant, soaked in her own blood at the foot of the carriage. In it was his father’s adviser, knocked out cold from a single hard punch. Around him was chaos. A group of strangely clothed men were fighting with the guards, keeping them from coming to his aid. One of the men, the same who slew Prina, turned on him and quickly advanced.

Halua knew he was in no state to fight. These clothes made it impossible to move properly and he didn’t even have a weapon. Twisting like a cat, he ran. He wove through the mess in hopes of finding something to use, anything, but he found nothing to use. He knew he couldn’t beat a trained fighter in a hand-to-hand match. He was already weak by male standards, and after adopting this woman’s title, he hadn’t picked up his training at all. He would be no match.

Eyes darting here and there, Halua panted with quick breath and even quicker heart. He stumbled over a corpse and cursed these clothes for making it so hard to move. Catching himself before he felt down, he glanced behind him and saw the man right at his heels. Halua forced himself to his feet and broke into another run.

He was chased away from the carriage and the guards, into the forest. Another man, an ally of the one already chasing him, joined in the pursuit when he saw what the runaway prize was. Halua tore through the trees, stumbling here and there as he went. He knew he wasn’t going that fast, but the men hadn’t tackled him down just yet. Anger and fear soared through him as he quickly understood that they were playing with him, waiting for him to tire before they finally attacked.

Halua’s lips pulled into a bitter snarl as he dodged around a tree and kept going. He didn’t quite see one of the roots sticking out of the ground until his foot caught on the knot. With a yelp he crashed to the ground. Laughter echoed behind him and made him turn to see the men had caught up. They were laughing at his state of misfortune and prowled closer like a pair of predators.

Halua pushed up to his hands and tried to scramble up to his feet, but just as soon as he got one foot under him, one of the men pounced. His larger, heavier body slammed into his own like a wet sack of sand. The wind was knocked out of Halua, his head hitting the forest floor hard.

His vision turned white for a moment or two as dizziness and nausea crept up on him. Groaning, he struggled against the sickness as he twisted in the man’s grip. He could feel the man’s breath against his skin, each puff hot, moist and smelly. Halua turned his head away to avoid the disgusting stench and glared up at the man.

“What a pretty little bitch,” the man growled, a perverse look in his eye.

Halua spat. “Get off me!”

The man laughed. “You say that now, but wait until we’re done with you.” Halua watched in horror as the man’s friend came into view. He too had a sick grin on his face. “We’ll put that pretty mouth of yours to proper work.”

As the man tried to grab for him, Halua let out an angry cry and bit his hand. The man howled in pain and jerked back. He quickly turned back to Halua and grabbed a fistful of his hair. He clenched his other hand into a fist as though to strike him. Halua flinched at the expectant blow, but before the fist could collide with his face, an arrow shot through the man’s throat.

The man choked, eyes widening in belated shock before he suddenly collapsed, blood staining his mask. His friend, alarmed, quickly grabbed for the short sword at his hip and looked around the area for the source of attack. Before he could get too far, he too was shot in a vital area and fell to the ground.

Halua’s heart skipped a beat as he saw the men dead at his feet. He scrambled up into a sitting position and looked around, his eyes wide with fright and awareness of his surroundings. He whirled when he heard the snap of a branch and saw someone slowly approach.

Partly shadowed by the trees, the person carried a bow and arrow in their hands. Halua froze when he saw the tip pointed his way. He didn’t dare blink as the person came into a small opening of light and saw it to be a man. He was dressed strangely, but not quite like the two whom had been shot. Halua wasn’t sure if he was in league with the men who had attacked the carriage but he seemed just as dangerous.

Breath stilling in his throat, Halua swallowed and forced himself to remain still. He was scared, more scared that he had ever been in his life. But at the same time, he found a small thread of resolve. He couldn’t die here. He just couldn’t. He was supposed to be on his way to meet his future husband. He was supposed to help his father gain an important war ally and win the war. It wasn’t supposed to end like this.

The man looked at him silently, bow still trained on him. Halua forced himself to meet the man’s gaze, carrying a false bravado in his expression as he stared death in the face. A long silent moment passed where not even the sound of nature interrupted. Then slowly, the man lowered his bow. He looked at the men on either side of Halua with a calculating gaze before returning his arrow to the quiver at his back.

It was only when the man lowered his bow arm to his side that Halua found himself able to breathe again. All the tension that had help him upright melted away, leaving him feeling boneless. He caught himself with one hand and let out a long, ragged breath. The man watched him quietly before shifting to kneel before him.

“Are you alright?” His voice was low and deep, smooth like finely cured leather. Halua felt a strange prick of heat in the center of his chest when he heard it, but quickly dismissed his curiosity before it could distract him.

“Y-Yes... Thank you. For saving me.” He looked up at the man. His eyes were so dark, it was almost like looking into a dark well and trying to see the bottom. It was eerie, yet strangely captivating. Halua found it hard to look away.

“Can you stand?” The man held out a gloved hand.

Halua blinked and looked down at the hand. It took him a moment to register what was just asked. “O-Oh, um, yes. I think so...” He hesitated before slipping his hand into the man’s and let himself be guided up to his feet.

The man had lifted him so easily, it amazed him how strong he was. Halua let his hand linger before drawing it away to brush off the dirt and leaves that had gathered on his clothes. So much for looking like a prim and proper princess. He was a mess, but at least he was mostly uninjured. His head hurt from hitting the ground, and he probably had a couple bruises from when he fell, but other than that he was fine.

“Why were you being chased by those two men?”

Halua looked up at the man and quickly realized their difference in height. He tried not let that bother him as he replied, “They attacked my... our carriage. There were others too. The guards... they were preoccupied. They couldn’t help when that man... when he...”

His gaze turned down to the one who had attacked him, the very same who had cut Prina. Halua didn’t doubt she was dead now. He hated this bastard for killing her. Angry, bitter, he kicked at the corpse. It rolled over, unresponsive to his pain.

“Damn him...” he cursed and made as if to kick it again when a hand touched his shoulder. Halua looked back at the man who shook his head.

“Disgracing the dead does no one good.”

Halua shook out of the man’s grip, still pained. He couldn’t help it, Prina was an innocent girl. He didn’t know her age, didn’t know anything about her except her name, but in the single month they had come to know each other, she had become dear to him. He came to enjoy her presence, quiet as it was. She didn’t deserve to be killed on the roadside.

Sighing heavily, he brushed his hair out of his face and tried to force himself to be calm. He had to remember that even out of the company of the people from home, he still was under the guise of a female. He had to act like one, and cursing and kicking corpses was not something a princess did.

Lifting his gaze, he looked around himself. He couldn’t remember which way he had come, or how far he had gotten. He couldn’t see the carriage or its company, couldn’t even hear their voices. It suddenly weighed on him that he was lost and on his own, and had no sense of where to go to find the others again. ...Well, he wasn’t completely alone, the stranger who saved him was still standing there.

Halua looked up at him quietly. The man caught him staring and looked back, not at all hiding the way his gaze raked over his form. When those dark eyes settled on his face, Halua fought the weird sensation that started in the pit of his stomach. Something about the way this man stared at him gave him mixed feelings. He wasn’t sure what to think about him.

“Do you not know how to get back to your friends?” he asked.

Halua shook his head. “No. I didn’t pay attention when I was running so I have no clue where I am.”

“Where were you headed?”

“The temple of... Mnem... The temple of Mnemith.”

“Will they look for you there?”

Halua frowned. “I’m not sure. They might, or they might stay in the forest searching for me.”

The man studied him for a moment before turning and starting to walk away. “I can lead you there, but it will be a long walk. If you don’t want to, you can stay here and wait for them to find you.”

Halua looked up at the trees. He couldn’t tell what time of day it was, but it felt late. He didn’t want to be out here on his own. It didn’t feel safe, least of all when he had two dead men right there. “N-No, take me. Please. I’d rather walk than stay here.”

He quickly followed after the man, glancing back only once to make sure no one else was around. They walked in silence through the forest, heading in a direction Halua couldn’t possibly discern. He tried to keep note of their surroundings, but the trees all looked the same and he wasn’t sure if they were even going in any one direction at all.

He didn’t really have any room to complain, though. As the woods got darker and the air got a little chillier, the more he felt glad that he had taken up the man’s offer. It was less disturbing to be in the company of another person than on his own, wandering like some lost fool.

As the minutes dragged on, Halua lost track of the time. He grew tired of their trek, his legs protesting after having run so far and so fast already. He wanted nothing better than to just stop and rest, but purpose kept him moving forward. When it became so dark it was impossible to see, it became hard for him to watch his footing. More than once did he trip over some upturned root or fallen branch. It was only thanks to these clothes he was able to fight off the chill of the night, but it did little to really protect him from low branches and underbrush that threatened to scrape at him.

Stumbling yet again over something or another, or maybe it was just his own two feet, Halua caught himself against a nearby tree and sighed harshly. The man noticed he had stopped and looked over his shoulder. Halua wiped his face with his sleeve, uncaring if he smeared the makeup he wore. “Just... just give me a minute,” he said to the man and leaned against the tree.

How the man could do this without looking the least bit tired was beyond him. Halua didn’t know where he came from, but his stamina was astounding. He didn’t think that man broke into a single drop of sweat yet, he looked all too comfortable in his surroundings, as if this wasn’t the harshest environment he had ever faced.

Halua envied him. He was a man’s man, the very image that his father would have loved. A warrior, strong, silent, kind. When he did a job, he probably did it perfectly. He was the opposite of Halua.

Heaving another sigh, he pushed away from the tree and nodded at the man to show he was ready to continue. The man looked at him curiously, a slight tilt to his brows. “Are you sure?” It seemed that in his eyes, Halua’s enthusiasm was a bit misplaced.

“Yes. I must keep going, I can’t keep them waiting.”

“We still have a long way to go. Do you want me to carry you?” Though his tone, nor it expression, said he was demeaning Halua, the way he stared at the boy in disguise showed that he expected a yes in reply.

Halua, feeling a sudden flare of indignation, shook his head. “No. I can walk on my own two feet.” He was reminded of what Mern had said earlier. Halua, though he was certainly weak for a man, did not want to consider himself helpless. It stung too much to admit such a weakness. It was bad enough that it was because of his delicate features that his father finally took note of his existence. If only that wasn’t the case.

The man stared silently, studying Halua in the dark. As their gazes met, Halua didn’t care for how stupid it made him seem, he made sure that the stranger understood that he would not be taking any rides. Seeing this, the man tipped a shoulder. He turned around and kept going, leading the way.

Halua ignored the ache of his body as they went. They continued on for a while, trekking through more of the forest at a painful, sluggish pace. Halua was certain he would come to regret his decision later, but he didn’t dare stop again.

He was surprised when the man came to a stop and pointed ahead just a few yards. Halua came up next to him and squinted through the darkness. “Just there is the road that will lead you to the temple. Take it right. It shouldn’t be far.”

Halua looked up at him. “You’re not going to take me the rest of the way?” He inwardly grimaced at how he sounded. He didn’t mean to come off so helpless, but it baffled him that the man would abandon him halfway through his task after he had offered to carry him like a gentleman.

Those dark eyes, even darker in the night, turned to meet his gaze. “It shouldn’t be far,” he repeated. “Maybe a couple minutes if you don’t stop.”

Halua frowned and studied him. He tried to figure him out, tried to understand how he ticked, but he couldn’t pick up anything. It was as if the man was purposely making it hard for him. He glanced at the road before looking back at the man. “At least tell me your name.”

The man didn’t reply right away. Silent, it almost seemed as if he wasn’t going to say anything at all, but then he spoke. “Banthus.”

Banthus. Halua rolled the name off his tongue silently, tasting it. It was an unusual name, one he had never heard before. He wondered where it came from.

“You should go and meet up with your companions.”

Blinking, Halua glanced again. He was right. He should go. He looked up at Banthus and smiled. “Thank you. I’ll remember what you did. I can’t do anything to repay you now, but if we meet again, I’ll make sure you are properly thanked.”

Banthus merely nodded. Halua turned and made his way to the road, carefully picking his way through the underbrush. He didn’t know how he would repay Banthus for saving him, but surely if he spoke to someone, maybe Mern or his father or even Prince Reshar, they would be grateful enough to see him alive to let him do something for the stranger.

As he came onto the road, Halua looked both ways before heading right as instructed. He glanced back at the forest in hopes of seeing Banthus, but he didn’t find him there. It was just too dark to tell. Halua shook his head and followed the road as it curved upward.

When he saw lights in a distance, he quickened his pace. Hope soared through him. The sound of voices could be heard, loud, shouting, angry. Halua came upon a scene where Mern, alive, was struggling against a couple of the guards. They seemed to be holding him back and stopping him from joining the search party.

A bubble of laughter caught in Halua’s chest, relieved. They were okay. Mern was okay. The guards, what he could see of them, were okay too. He didn’t see Prina but he didn’t expect to.

“Let me go! I must ensure that she is safe and sound!”

“You’re only going to hurt yourself. Stay here and wait for us to come back. We’ll be--”

“I am not going to--”

“Everyone.” Halua’s voice cut through the conversation. All eyes turned to look at him, shock and relief written on their faces. “I’m right here. You don’t have to go looking for me anymore.”

Mern twisted out of the guards’ grips and quickly came to his side. “You’re alive!” He looked him over worriedly, taking in his torn clothes and dirt smeared skin. Seeing the ragged state Halua was in, his lips pulled into a thin line.

When the old man opened his mouth to inquire, Halua shook his head. “Later. Please. I can’t stand any longer...” Just as soon as he said it, his legs gave out from under him. Mern caught him, one of the guards coming over to help. Halua, extremely exhausted from all that had happened, leaned against the men and let them pick him up.

They carried him inside in a hurried manner, eager to see that he be checked for wounds and put to rest. Mern, still conscious of the necessity of keeping his identity a secret, ordered Halua be taken to a private room, where only he and one of the temple healers attended to him.

Halua, barely staying conscious, insisted that he wasn’t hurt. Though his face probably said otherwise, he knew that the worse of his pain was on his legs and feet. All else was superficial and could be healed easily. The healer took care of his legs and feet, as well as scrapes along his arms, hands, and cheek. The forest had not been kind.

Once the healer was done, Halua was left to recover. Mern forbade anyone from entering without permission, stationing a guard outside his door for security. Halua, none the wiser to Mern’s commands, slumbered deeply.