Red Heir - Lisa Henry Page 0,51

was covered in shit that time.”

“I meant metaphorically,” Ada said, her expression softening.

“I didn’t throw him in that,” Dave said. “If he stinks like that, he must have fallen in a pool of it on his own.”

Loth left Ada to attempt to try to explain that one and walked over to where Calarian was standing with the horses. Quinn followed him.

“Did anything happen today on your watch?” Loth asked.

“Nope.” Calarian hoisted his saddle onto his horse. “I saw two farmers with carts, and one dog with three legs. And none of them saw me. This might be the main road once we get closer to Callier, but this far out? There’s nobody.”

“Have you been to Callier before?” Quinn asked suddenly. “Any of you?”

Calarian shook his head. “I haven’t. Scott’s never left Delacourt until now, and Ada hates dealing with humans, so I can’t imagine she’s been this far south before. Dave didn’t even know what a paved road was—he wanted to know how the stones knew to line up like that—so I’m thinking he’s never seen an actual city either.” He levelled a stare at Quinn. “Why are you asking?”

“Just curious,” Quinn said. “The benefactor must have offered you a lot of money, right? Ada wouldn’t agree to it unless it was a lot, and Dave’s dragon eggs aren’t cheap. I guess I’m just wondering why someone with so much money would throw it on a crazy plan to rescue the prince instead of, you know, raising an army against Doom. Or at least hiring an assassin.”

“You can’t just kill a king,” Calarian said.

Quinn scowled. “He’s not a king.”

“Whatever. My point is, you can’t just kill the guy in charge without someone to replace him,” Calarian said. “Because humans are stupid and like to be subjugated. They get confused when there’s no figurehead to bow to.” He nodded at Loth. “That’s where you come in. Bring you back to the city, knock Doom off his perch, put you back on the throne, and they’re happy. Idiots,” he added under his breath.

“Or he might kill me with an audience, or have me killed at least, and claim the throne,” Loth pointed out.

Calarian thought for a moment. “Oh, yeah. That’d work too. Sneaky! You would make an excellent House Master.” And then, at Loth’s blank look: “The person who runs the game in Houses and Humans. Talk about a plot twist!”

“My life is not a plot twist!”

“How would he kill you though?” Calarian mused, before he froze. “Wait—bandits!”

“Yes, that would be one way, but you’re taking far too much leisure in planning my death,” Loth grumbled, right before Calarian shoved him into the hedge.

“No—shhh—listen. Bandits! I can hear bandits.”

“How can you even tell that?” Loth hissed.

“I can hear the weaponry clanking. Nobody wearing that much metal is up to any good,” Calarian whispered. “And they’re leaving the road and coming this way!”

There was a dull thud and a rustle of leaves as Quinn threw his body into the hedge next to him. Loth pulled him close instinctively as Calarian peered out of their hiding spot. Dave and Ada must have sensed something was up because they were craning their necks this way and that, trying to see what was going on. Scott was, of course, oblivious, right until Ada kicked him in the shins, and by then it was too late.

The bandits had spilled through the gap in the hedgerow and spotted them. There were seven of them, all huge and leather-clad and yes, adorned with a variety of swords and knives and other things Loth couldn’t name, but definitely didn’t like the look of. They did, as Calarian had said, clank slightly with every step. Their leader strode up to Scott and hauled him up with one giant hand in his collar so his feet were several inches off the ground.

“Where’s the prince?” he demanded.

“In the hedge!” Scott squeaked, pointing.

Weaselly little shit.

Footsteps behind him alerted Loth to the fact that Calarian was heading towards the danger, his long stride covering the ground between him and the bandits startlingly fast, and then he paused and an arrow flew through the air, striking one of the bandits in the thigh. He howled and dropped to one knee.

“Fucking missed,” Calarian muttered, and stopped just long enough to nock another arrow and take a second shot. This one didn’t miss, and the man collapsed to the ground, gurgling and clutching at the shaft protruding from his throat.

“The prince!” the leader shouted and shook Scott violently.