Crown of One Hundred Kings (Nine Kingdoms Trilogy #1) - Rachel Higginson Page 0,24
he murmured. The amusement in his deep voice made me want to scream at him.
Something pointy pressed through the thick folds of my cloak. I made a sound in the back of my throat, but did not waver. When I lifted my eyes from Arrick’s cloaked face I saw that we were surrounded.
Oliver too had a blade at his back and beyond that there were more than a dozen men surrounding us.
I lifted my chin. “You’ll have to kill me then. I will not leave here without my satchel.”
“Clearly this purse is of some value to you, m’lady,” He said evenly. I growled something foul at his sudden appearance of chivalry. His smile was unmistakable this time as his hood fell back to reveal the lower half of his face. He lifted the satchel over his shoulder with slow, even movements and held it out to me. “It’s yours,” he offered gallantly.
“It is mine,” I agreed. I made no move to take it though, certain this was a trap.
He dangled it from his fingers. “Take it then.”
“What’s the catch?”
His grin widened. “Only a moment ago, you were willing to die for it. Now you’re concerned about catches? Please, woman, make up your mind.”
I lowered my sword and grabbed the satchel, holding it tightly against my chest and subtly feeling for the contents. It was impossible to tell if they had searched the bag, but the bottom remained sturdy, solid. I could only hope the crown was fine within the secret compartment. I used one arm to secure it across my body.
When I looked back to Arrick, he held Shiksa out to me with one long arm. I took her slowly, more carefully than I had the pouch. My fingers brushed his in the exchange, noting the heat from his against the iciness of mine.
My gaze met Oliver’s and I inclined my head. It was time to go. I had no idea why Arrick had given the satchel back, nor did I intend to stick around and find out. My only concern was to remove myself from this hellish forest and never return.
But before I could take one step, Arrick’s cool voice called out, “Now for the catch.”
“Dragon’s blood,” I hissed. My glare bored fire into his quite satisfied one.
“Now, now, m’lady. I wish you no harm. At least for now.”
My jaw locked and I spoke through clenched teeth. “Then what do you want?”
“Dinner?” he suggested. “A conversation?” His smiled disappeared, replaced with a rather terrifying frown. “You will be my guest until I have decided otherwise.”
“Your prisoner, you mean.”
“Call it what you wish, but either is better than corpse.”
He had a point. And now that I had the crown back, I was significantly less inclined to offer my life. I could handle imprisonment for now. It would only be a matter of time before Oliver and I figured out a way to escape.
“Fine,” I growled.
He stepped forward. “Are you allowing me to take you prisoner?”
I narrowed my eyes. “Yes.”
“How gracious of you.” He bowed his head, then swept his arm toward the fog. “Ladies first.”
I wanted to pick up my sword and run him clean through. Instead, I tucked Shiksa into my satchel and followed after him.
His men stayed in a close circle, forcing Oliver to follow. They didn’t bother to take our swords and I had to believe that was because they knew they had the upper hand. Oliver and I were good with our weapons, but not good enough to take them all.
I stepped through the curtain of fog, shivering. We emerged on the other side of the veil and blinked.
What stood before us was not towering giants or armed sentries, but houses perched in the bosoms of the massive cedars. The windows glowed with candlelight and the smell of fire and food drifted through the air. Sturdy rope bridges connected one habitat to the other, weaving through the tangled woods to create a sprawling village.
I stared in awe at the layered ecosystem tucked away in this dark, haunted forest.
“What is this place?” I heard myself ask, although I had not given my mouth permission to speak or my voice to lift with awe.
Arrick leaned toward me and I felt his smile without needing to witness it. “This is the rebel fortress.”
The cocky tone to his words replaced some of my ire. “Not much of a fortress is it?”
“Ah, but the fog, you see. It’s more of a barrier than any castle wall or rampart.”