Crown of One Hundred Kings (Nine Kingdoms Trilogy #1) - Rachel Higginson Page 0,54

his uniform strained against his width, but he held himself with the air of someone in charge. “You heard the edict, Westnovian. If you have complaints, they must be taken to the king by proxy. You are to be escorted to the border or forcefully removed from this kingdom. It is your choice.”

“You can’t be serious.” Arrick’s patience was thinning. “We ran into the Ring of Shadows not minutes ago and you are removing my men? The only army willing to protect the people of Tenovia?”

Donivan leaned forward, testing the strength of his buttons and the abused mount beneath him. “This is not about reason, Westnovian. This is about obeying the order of the king whose land you have invaded and unlawfully claimed as your own. The Tenovian guard has been ordered to see your presence removed from our land. Resistance will end in battle. I leave it up to you to decide.”

“We were already on our way to the border,” Arrick explained.

Donivan and the army behind him held stony expressions, waiting for his decision. Arrick’s gaze briefly fell to mine before it returned to Donivan.

“Fine, yes, we will allow you to escort us to the border,” Arrick sighed as though it pained him.

“As I thought you would,” Donivan sneered. Arrick turned his horse around, but Donivan wasn’t finished. “And Westnovian?” Arrick turned back, giving him a sideways glance over his shoulder. “You shall not return.”

I thought I heard Arrick mumble something like, “Not as a Westnovian, anyway,” but I couldn’t be sure.

Once Arrick had his steed pointed in the correct direction again, he jerked his head for me to join him. I obeyed, not wanting to get caught up in the Tenovian unit behind me.

Arrick pushed forward until we were situated at the front of the rebel army where Gunter waited for us. Oliver rode on my left and Arrick on my right, Gunter on the other side of Arrick. I could feel the Tenovian soldiers pressing against us, anxious to get rid of us.

I wanted to explain to them what a mistake they were making. Arrick and his rebels had done so much good since I’d been with them.

But Arrick was right, we were headed toward the border anyway. It was useless to fight with them and delay our progress or lose lives.

“This ruins your cover of darkness plan,” Gunter grunted.

“Bloody hell,” Arrick groaned.

A second army waited in the distance, looming in Soravalian colors. Arrick’s entire army rumbled with outrage.

Three armies now occupied the highway. The Tenovian army behind us, escorting us to the border. The rebel army. And now the Soravalian army. Horses pranced and tossed their manes as their riders watched us approach.

“This was a trick!” Arrick called back at Donivan. His voice carried over the angry rebel army.

“You’re their problem now, marauder scum!” Donivan bellowed. “Do not try to seek refuge in Tenovia again. We want nothing of you or your filthy rebels!”

Arrick cursed and held out his hand to Gunter, who grasped it heartily. “I believe this is where we part ways.”

“We shall meet soon, friend,” Gunter laughed, low and dark. “But for now, enjoy your homeland.” He turned in his seat and shouted to his men. “Cavolia rides!”

Men broke off in every direction. The Soravalian army pushed against the border, swords readied, but useless from where they were forced to wait.

“Stop them!” Donivan shouted. Soldiers kicked their horses into motion and chaos broke loose.

Arrick brought two fingers to his mouth and let out a piercing whistle that could be heard over the chaos of the chase.

More men fled, rebels this time, bellowing whoops at the dim sky. Arrick’s men scattered as swiftly and randomly as Gunter’s Cavolian horde had. Arrick snatched the reins from my hand and kicked Finare into a gallop.

“Oliver!” I screamed as I held onto Finare’s mane for dear life.

“Behind you!” he shouted.

“Make sure it stays that way!” Arrick hollered. “Or they’ll make you pay for it!”

“Arrick!” I gasped as Finare jumped a wide root and landed with a rocking jolt.

“Hold on, Tessa,” he ordered. “And trust me.”

16

I held tightly onto Finare’s mane. My thighs squeezed firmly to the saddle as we jumped over roots and darted between towering cedars.

As we approached the Soravalian border, the black cedars weren’t quite so tall, nor quite as wide as they had once been. Still, the forest was a maze.

Arrick seemed to know it well, however. He held my reins tight in his hand, leading Finare through the tangle of branches and sharp