Chapter 4: The Ambush

Azrel

"Do you think we should stop for the night, your highnesses?" The carriage driver asked as he surveyed the distant, darkening clouds.

The royal carriage was a luxury form of travel, but the bumping of the cart became tiresome over any extended amount of distance. Khanthar had left for the west three days ago, and Nasacha took her time gathering her belongings to follow after. When it was finally time to depart, Azrel had insisted on accompanying her.

They rode in complete silence, both children of the king, but complete strangers. Although he gave the excuse that he wished to see the country, Azrel felt it was his duty to protect his sister on her journey.

"I defer any decision to my brother," Nasacha said bluntly. "My only thought is getting to the west as quickly as possible."

Azrel meditated on his most recent dream rather than respond. Through the mist, he could have sworn he had heard the woman call to him. He had reached out to touch her, to pull her close, but as soon as he managed to grab her, she had vanished. He thought of her eyes the most; although the woman looked like someone familiar he could not place where. The more he thought about it the ore it slipped his mind.

"Driver, stop." Nasacha huffed after another minute had passed without her brother speaking.

The cart came to a halt, and Azrel released his daydream. He opened the carriage door and took a quick glance around the area. His sister nearly stepped on his foot as they tried to get out simultaneously. The air was crisp with the coming rain.

"We should not stop for long," Azrel muttered.

"Well, if you had made a decision earlier, we would not have stopped at all."

Azrel tried not to hear the sharp tone in her breath.

The carriage driver looked at them both. "I agree with the prince. I believe it is our duty to carry on. Let us take a brief rest, and then we will go."

Nasacha waved the driver away.

The carriage driver nodded and went to relay the message to the guards and other carriages, which were filled solely with Nasachas overflowing luggage.

"I could have handled myself fine on this journey," Nasacaha spoke up as soon as they were alone.

Azrel did not meet her piercing gaze."It is my duty to protect our greatest asset to the war effort."

Nasacha rolled her eyes."Oh, don't bother being noble. I know how much you dislike me. I knew it from the moment you returned home."

He did not offer her a response; it was true that he hated the fact that she was able to remain in court, and he was sent away.

"Do you still blame me for mothers death?" She pressed.

He did not meet her gaze. It was true that their mother had died in childbirth, but he could hardly blame her. Still he thought about it often.

"Are you ready to set off again?" The carriage driver had returned, and they took a last breath of fresh air before cramming themselves back into the carriage.

Soon after, the rain began to pour down over them. The road in front of them turned to mud, but still, they continued. A dark forest loomed before them, but they pressed forward into it, finding some relief from the rain overhead. Despite the dense foliage, the rain still leaked through.

Suddenly there was a loud crash, and the carriage in the front of the caravan tipped over. Before the carriage that Azrel was in could stop, they crashed into the cart on the ground. The wheels lodged into the mud.

"What's happening?" Azrel cried, jumping out of the carriage and into the sludge as he drew his sword.

He wiped the rain from his eyes and there he saw on the ground a tripwire buried in the mud of the trail, hidden by the rain.

"It's an ambush!" He cried and leaped back just in time as an arrow imbedded itself into the ground where he was a moment prior.

The guards that hadn’t been crushed under the first carriage tried to double back, but they were cut down by arrows from above. Azrel threw open the door of the carriage and held out his hand for Nasacha. She had thrown a shawl over her head to hide. He helped her down, but her long gown stuck fast in the mud. He sawed through her dress, making it shorter, and pulled her into the woods, away from the crash.

"How did they know we were coming this way?" Nasacha's bewildered voice reached him over the torrential rain. In the darkness, he couldn’t see anything, so he pulled her to the ground.

"What are—" she began, but Azrel put a hand over her mouth. She slapped it away but remained quiet.

Azrel could hear the rustling of leaves, but they soon passed by into the distance. Just as he began to breathe again, Nasacha was yanked from the ground. Azrel sprung up but took a kick from a large warrior.

"Ah, what do we have here?" the man grunted, throwing Nasacha to another rebel who held her tightly.

Azrel slashed with his sword, but it was parred by the leader. There were three of them, not including the one that dragged his sister away. Azrel blocked a low attack from the sword of the rebel on his right before he took a partial swing at the soldier in the front on his left.

"Azrel!" Nasacha screamed.

He tried to rush past the three rebels to reach her. The largest one in the middle caught his leg with his sword, and Azrel fumbled to the ground.

"I am Vers." The rebel in the middle cried, "Know my name when you die."

Azrel allowed the rebel on the right to come close enough before surprising him with an upward attack that sliced him right in the man’s stomach. His enemy lurched to the ground, dead. Vers gave a war cry before thrusting down with his weapon. Azrel tried to roll away but was caught on his shoulder and he cried out in agony. The rebel removed his sword before going to thrust again. Azrel weakly lifted his uninjured arm and blocked it, but it sent his sword spinning into the forest.

"Get up, prince of Dermnith." Vers grabbed his injured shoulder and pulled him to his feet. "I want you to be standing up when you die."

Azrel allowed the man to hold him up, he leaned on him, and just before he was slashed apart, he brought up his foot and kicked the man square in the chest. This sent the two men flying opposite directions. Azrel was sent flying backwards, down a hidden valley. He crashed through layers of rock and branches before he finally landed at the base of a stream.

"Where did he go?" a rebel asked from far above.

"He must be dead; that was too far of a drop for any mortal." Vers harsh voice answered.

Azrel felt his life leaving his body and mix with the water of the stream.

"Azrel!"

He heard someone calling his name, but it wasn't his sister. He followed the voice into the darkness.