They rounded the bend, finally out of striking range. Dexter halted, dismounted, and hit his horse’s rump. The animal took off, not needing any more encouragement. Reid slid from her saddle. The second her feet hit the ground, Dexter swatted her horse’s rump. It quickly followed the other horse.

Dexter ran up the slope on the left, into the cover of the trees. Reid chased him, almost losing her footing on the slick, leaf-covered ground.

“There,” someone shouted.

Reid glanced back. Two riders approached. The right one pointed at Dexter. The left one raised his bow and aimed.

Without thinking, Reid sprinted to the prince. She threw herself at him, covering as much of his torso as possible. An arrow struck her upper back, the impact making it hard to breathe. Between her weight and the force of the arrow that hit her, Dexter fell forward, Reid landing on top of him.

“I got her,” the man crowed. “She’ll be dead in no time.”

Dexter twisted around, his eyes wide with panic. “You’re hit?”

“I’m fine. I have armor on.” Her voice came out squeaky.

He reached behind her, pulling the arrow free from her armor, then he examined the tip to make sure there wasn’t any blood. “We need to go before they come after us.”

She slid off him, and they crawled the remaining three feet to the top of the rise. Once they were certain they were out of sight from their pursuers, they scrambled to their feet and ran, dodging between the trees.

After a mile, Dexter stopped. They’d reached a section of the forest covered with thick ivy. “Let’s hide here until we’re sure we’re not being followed.” The blood from his wound had soaked through his sleeve all the way down to his wrist.

Reid scanned the area for a good hiding place. The ivy reached her knees, trailing over rocks and up tree trunks. She approached one of the larger boulders and stretched out on her side, nestling below the ivy. The likelihood of a horse trampling her this close to the boulder was slim. She settled in, assuming she would be in this position for some time.

A moment later, rustling sounded to her right, about five feet away. “Are you okay?” she whispered.

“Yes. I ripped a section of my tunic off, then tied it around my arm to stop the bleeding. Once we’re safe, I’ll need to remove the arrowhead.”

The mere thought soured Reid’s stomach. She breathed in and out through her nose, trying to remain still and not make a sound. Her back began to throb where the arrows had struck her. Bone-deep bruises would no doubt blossom by tomorrow.

Birds chirped overhead. The wind rustled the leaves. The sun slowly moved across the sky, casting eerie shadows through the trees. Hours passed.

“I think it’s safe,” Dexter finally said.