“Yes,’ Teddy confirmed.

“That means we detour, bello.”

He was not following.

“What?”

Suddenly, he was down, on his stomach, with Faunus still in him, and covering him.

And his mouth was still at Teddy’s ear.

“We’re going to visit your father.”

Oh.

Shite.

141

The Escape

Jellan

Road Between Cyrus and Sky Bay

AIREN

Jellan was likely the only man on Triton who was pleased Airen was engaged in a civil war.

And in that moment, he was the only man perhaps in history who was pleased to be set upon by highwaymen.

He had not, since his decision to escape, found an opportunity to do that.

Until, hopefully now, as moonlight lit their path and the mount that Marian and Daemon were atop, bearing both their weight, had trouble racing away from the highwaymen chasing them.

Thus, once they caught them, Jellan felt he could get away.

In the fracas, he would magick a cloak about him so they could not see him, and he would ride off.

Maybe they would think his horse panicked, took flight, and he was lost.

Or perhaps they’d know he escaped.

Though, as he would be gone, it wouldn’t matter what they thought.

But in case it didn’t work, he had to make it look good.

It was late at night, they were in the middle of nowhere, nothing about them but fields and forest.

He had told them the last town they rode through, miles back, they should stop at the inn.

Did Marian and Daemon (mostly Marian) listen?

No, they did not.

She said press forward, complaining she didn’t like the looks of that inn and, truth be told, she was correct. It appeared rank.

But would they be dashing down a road in the moonlight chased by highwaymen if they’d stopped?

No, they would not.

Did they ever listen to Jellan?

No, they did not.

But hopefully this would end well for Jellan.

Even if he suspected it would definitely not end well for the highwaymen.

Which was a shame.

They rode up alongside them, and Jellan surmised it was a band of five.

This he surmised for he could hear hooves pounding at their backs, they had a man either side of them, and one was taking the front.

In a well-established maneuver, they cut both horses off, making Jellan’s rear, and he was forced to lean well forward to keep his seat.

He needed his steed to appear panicked.

But he couldn’t have the animal throw him.

For, in the end, he’d just need his steed.

As a warning, one of the highwaymen cracked a whip.

And as Daemon and Marian’s mount circled in place and whinnied, Jellan shushed his and patted its neck to soothe its dancing even as he squeezed it with his thighs, giving it mixed messages that he hoped would be confusing to the steed.

He then looked about the men.