Broken Prince (The Broken Ones) (3 page)

He bent over and brought his hands to the gaping
wound, coughing blood.

So much blood.

Dropping the arrow, she lurched forward to grab his
shoulders. "Cain!"

He straightened suddenly, sucking in a deep, gurgling
breath. Coughing, he spit blood to the side.

Blood. Blood everywhere. Everything was turning red.

Shrugging off his pack he tossed it to her. "Run."

Tears welled in her eyes and fell. Shaking her head, she
clasped his pack tight to her chest with bloody hands as if it would protect
her. It hadn't protected him. The arrow had pierced him just above where it had
hung low on his back. If Cain had been a little faster, or the man not on a
horse...

He forced himself to his feet, drawing his sword. "I'm
done." He coughed more blood and looked over at her shocked face. His voice
softened, "You know that."

Yes, she knew. He was dead already. Blood soaked his
shirt. It dripped from his mouth and down his chin. His lungs were filling with
it. If he didn’t drown in his own blood he would bleed out. There was nothing she
could do to save him.

"No." She didn't want to believe it. Didn't
want to lose anyone else. "Rot it all, no!"

"I'll buy you time."

"Cain...John..." Dropping the pack, she stood
and moved quickly to his side. Heedless of the blood, she pulled him into her
arms, holding him too tightly with trembling limbs. He sagged against her,
resting his head for a moment against hers.

"We don’t…have…time," he whispered.

 She pulled away and leaned in to kiss his cheek. "John,"
she sobbed, her lips trembling so much so she couldn’t speak.

"I’m sorry, Aro." He kissed her forehead,
and then bloody knuckles gently caressed her cheek in goodbye. "Go."

"Make them hurt," she whispered.

He nodded and she turned away before tears threatened
to destroy her. The horse drew closer, crashing through the corn. Snatching up
his pack, she turned and ran, not looking back. She refused to let his
sacrifice be in vain by winding up dead from crying.

Later there would be time. She’d cry a million tears
until she dried up and blew away. If she survived.

Chapter 3:

Friend in the
Fields

She ran unthinkingly through field after field of
corn, each separated by a narrow cart path she quickly darted across.
Eventually the corn ran out and she froze at the edge of a field, staring out
in despair at the expanse of something else. She wasn't certain what type of
crop it was, perhaps potatoes. The problem was the lack of cover. The plants
didn't even grow up to her knees.

Clutching Cain's pack to her chest she sank to the
ground sobbing and rocking, finally letting the tears fall again. Cain had
died. Why did everyone have to die? Why did she lose them all?

Pain lanced through her chest. It was a familiar, dark
pain. She’d been torn apart when she’d found herself alone in chains on a slave
ship, her brothers gone and likely dead. It had opened further when Kendric,
the only person she’d known, had not made it to shore when the slave ship crashed
into rocks and sank. Avery’s death had opened it again. The long summer months
of monotonous travel had allowed it to close somewhat, turning it into a numb,
raw wound.

Cain’s death ripped her heart out again. Blood covered
her chest and hands as if the wound in her soul was real. But it wasn’t, it was
Cain’s blood covering her. So much blood.

Frantically grabbing the water-skin, she fumbled to
get it open, spilling the precious liquid and wasting more in an attempt to get
the blood off her hands. The worst came off, but too much remained. Choking off
a whimper she wrapped her arms about her waist and rocked hysterically.

Chest wracking sobs overcame her. There had been no
time for goodbyes. She hadn’t told him how much he meant to her, how he’d
become family. She hadn’t told him so many things.

She cried until no more tears fell and her breath came
in little shuddering hiccups. Rubbing at her face and eyes she forced herself
to take deep breaths.

She couldn't stay here. She needed to ignore the pain
and darkness and reach the forest. If anyone else survived they would be
waiting for her there. She went through John’s pack quickly, stuffing the food
he had carried into her own pack before tossing his aside. Numbness replaced
her hysteria. She didn’t mind, it was safer, quieter.

Standing on the edge of the cornfield, she adjusted
her pack, touched the dagger on each hip to make sure they were still there,
and checked the one in her boot. She looked behind her, but all she could see was
corn. In front of her the fields of whatever went on and on until corn had
again been planted. She was beginning to love corn. She could just barely see
the forest ahead, the mountains looming tall and breathtaking beyond.

She didn't want to run across the field before her. A
rider spotting her would mean her death. She could run fast, but not faster
than a horse. She tried not to think about the spears and bows the riders
carried. She tried not to think about Cain.

The low field went on for a good distance in either
direction. She wasn't sure what grew beyond to either side. She debated running
north or south to see if any cover would present itself. It could end up being
a waste of time. She didn't know. Pacing the field’s edge in frustration, she
weighed her options.

"Rot it." She darted out into the field and
ran, arms pumping and legs flying, dodging or leaping over plant rows. Her
heart hammered loudly in her chest. She glanced quickly to either side of her,
saw nothing but fields, and continued to run like her life depended on it, because
it did.

When she finally reached the field of corn she skidded
to a stop once safely hidden inside. Raising a hand to her chest she struggled
to control her breathing, calm her heart. Her legs and chest burned painfully,
but she’d made it. Moving slowly, she returned to the edge of field, peeking
between stalks, her gaze searching.

The valley had begun to rise again. Now she could see
the city in the distance. Smoke drifted toward her from it, they had either set
it ablaze, or fires had accidentally been started in the panic of the fighting.

She could vaguely make out bodies scattered along the
open stretch around the keep. Hopefully no more of her boys were amongst them. She
turned her eyes to the corn and other fields. She could make out movement here
and there, people hiding or running. She could also see horsemen spread out
through the fields, tracking the people who tried to seek shelter and safety
within.

A scream cut through the air. Turning toward it she
could see a horseman in the distance off to her left. Relief she couldn't
actually see what was happening rushed through her as the heart wrenching
screams went on and on. Watching quietly for a while longer she finally
grimaced. It appeared the enemy enjoyed hunting down those who had tried to
escape.

Continuing through the corn, she struggled to move
both quickly and quietly. She ignored the occasional screams of others dying
until one suddenly sounded close to her right.

She froze mid-step. Carefully she turned, searching
through the corn rows, wishing she could see above them. The sun had begun to
set though it would still be light for a good while yet. Crouching down, she
listened carefully.

Yes, there, something moving through the corn.

Nervously running her fingers through her hair, she
shifted, trying to see through the corn in front of her, wondering how much
farther remained until she reached the forest.

"Aren't you going to run?"

She spun around and looked up. A man on horseback
laughed at her above the corn.

Springing to her feet she bolted, ignoring the
laughter behind her. Not bothering to try to hide, she simply ran, even knowing
she wouldn't be able to outrun him in the fields. He followed, yelling taunts
at her back.

Too quickly she grew tired and her sprint slowed. She
pushed on, fighting the pains in her muscles and chest, struggling to breathe.
Sweat ran down her face and stung her eyes.

The sound of the horse and rider persisted behind her.
She didn’t dare to look. He played with her and she knew it. There was nothing she
could do but run. Panic and fear gave way to frustration and anger.

She thought of Prince and tried to send her thoughts
out to him, screaming them in her head, knowing he wouldn't hear, yet hoping
somehow he would.
Where are you? Find me...Please! I can't get away...

Bursting suddenly out of the corn she stumbled, found
her footing, and then lost it again in the freshly turned earth. Pain shot up
her leg when her ankle twisted and she cursed out loud. Stumbling to her feet, she
paused. Tears of frustration came to her eyes at the sight of the wide empty
field before her. Something had recently been harvested, the earth loose and
uneven. It would be impossible to run across.

Beyond it was a narrow stretch of weeds and low brush
and then...the forest. A stone marker rose not far to her left at its edge. She
only had to get into the trees. She would certainly be able to lose the
horseman within it, if he even followed.

"You're a pretty little thing aren't you?"

She started off quickly and nearly fell again.
Clenching her teeth against the pain in her ankle, she set her eyes upon the
trees ahead and pushed herself forward at a limping slow jog.

"I think there’s time to play. Would you like to
play, love?"

She didn't look at him, merely pressed her lips
together and kept moving. His horse walked beside her now; out of the corner of
her eye she could see his leg. Her daggers would be nearly useless against a
mounted man, especially with her current injury. Still, she moved a hand to
clench one at her side. He wanted to play with her first, to do so he would
have to get off the blighting horse.

Her heart continued to hammer in her chest, though at
least her breathing began to calm. Every step caused pain to shoot through her
twisted ankle. She wasn't going to make it. Soon he would tire of taunting her
and get off the horse, they would fight, and then...

Prince! Kei! Where are you?

No one answered her silent screams. It didn't surprise
her. She knew they couldn't even hear her, yet it still hurt. She wasn't used
to being alone. She didn't want to die alone. She didn't–

Get down!

She dropped to the ground, too surprised at the
strange voice in her mind and the urgency of its tone to argue.

Something large and dark passed over her as she
pressed herself into the dirt. Ducking her head instinctively, she heard the
rider scream and the horse let out a strange piercing whistle. She rolled away
when it suddenly went berserk with legs flying everywhere as it tried to bolt
and the rider fought for control. The last thing she needed was to get
trampled.

Rolling further away she drew daggers as she rose to
her feet, ready to help or make her escape. The horse bolted toward the forest.
The rider...

She gasped. The rider was being smacked around like a
toy by a giant wolf.

Not a wolf, a Were. She'd heard him, like the last
time she’d met one in the forest to the north. Had he come to help her? Why?
Certainly he wasn’t the same wolf, the voice had sounded different. Why were
they talking to her?

She straightened slowly, debated sheathing her daggers,
and decided better safe than sorry. "I think he's dead."

The wolf stopped playing, sniffed the body and turned
toward her.

A quiet, strangled sound escaped her lips. He was huge.
On all fours his head came to her chest. She struggled to stand her ground and
not run away screaming. Clenching her daggers tightly she forced a small smile.
"You helped me."

I heard you.
He
replied in her mind.

Her eyebrows went up. He'd heard... "Oh. Well,
thank you."

He walked toward her, ears perked forward.
I will
not hurt you. You can put those away.

Aro looked down at her hands. Her fingers clutched the
daggers so tightly her knuckles turned white. Cheeks flushing, she sheathed
them quickly. "Sorry. Today hasn't been the best day."

The wolf looked toward the burning city.
No. It
seems not.
His gaze returned to her.
I am Garen.

She smiled again, relaxing slightly. "Aro. Thanks
again." She looked around. They stood nearly in the middle of the field.
Out in the open. She started limping toward the forest again. Looking over her
shoulder at the Were, she forced a small smile. "Coming?"

Ears flicked again before he trotted up to walk beside
her.

"I've never really met a Were before. Sorry if I
don't do something right. Please let me know if I do." Hopefully that
covered any mistakes she might make. The last thing she needed was a Were as an
enemy.

His mental chuckle surprised her, but she didn't say
anything else. They moved slowly across the rest of the field and through the
short stretch of weeds. Entering the shadows of the trees, tension immediately
drained out of her.

Stopping to lean against a tree, she raised a hand to
her forehead. It shook. She lowered it again.

"I suppose you have to get back to your…" She
paused, searching for the word, "to your pack."

No.

His simple answer caught her off guard. "Oh.
Well, feel free to stay if you like." With a grimace she rubbed her sore
ankle against the side of her leg.

There is a spring not far. You could soak it there.

"How far?" The sun had nearly gone down. She
didn't want to get lost in the forest; not at night, not alone. Besides, she
still had to find the others.

It is close by.

Though her ankle throbbed painfully, and the thought
of soaking it in cold water would be wonderful, she still hesitated. "I
need to find my friends," she finally admitted. "We became separated.
If that happened we were supposed to meet along the boundary."

Very well.

She waited a moment, wondering if he was going to say
anything else. When he merely sat and stared at her she turned and headed
slowly back to the tree line. Concealing herself behind a tree she peered out,
eyes searching the fields and the empty strips of land to either side of her. She
saw at least two dozen riders, most scouring the fields. Four of them rode up
and down the boundary line. There was no sight of any of her friends.

"Where are you?" She moved back into the shadow
of the trees. Closing her eyes, she tried to calm the panic and fear swirling
within her. Sucking in a very slow breathe, she clenched her fists so tightly
it hurt. She hadn’t lost everyone again. They were alive. They had to be. They
likely hid from the horsemen, probably waiting until dark to move. She let out
a deep breath. Yes, certainly they would find her later.

She turned to look at Garen. "Where is this
spring?"

He regarded her for a moment before turning and
heading further into the trees.
This way.

She followed, relieved to see he moved slowly, always
staying within sight. They did not walk far before he stopped beside a thicket.
In here.