When he finally fell into step beside Bryce, he stared at the forest in front of him and tried to keep his voice low.
“Hello,” he said. One of the guards walking in front of him glanced over his shoulder, but only for a second. He didn’t seem interested. “I’m not an assassin,” he explained, wondering if this was a wasted venture.
“I know,” Bryce replied. “If you were an assassin, Farin wouldn’t have risked keeping you alive. You were to be hanged as an example, if Farin had his way.”
“Farin was your Captain?”
“He was the leader of the Guardsmen in Comer. One of my father’s personal bodyguards.”
“He wanted to kill me as an example for you.”
“I know.”
“You knew?”
Bryce spared a glance to the side, a slight smile on the edges of his lips. “Don’t worry. Farin wouldn’t have had his way. Not once we arrived in Mulrich. I would have persuaded by father to release you, and Farin couldn’t object. He is much too protective of me.”
“With good reason,” Gregory said, nodding his head toward the guards in front of them. “He wanted to protect you from this.”
Bryce didn’t immediately respond, and they walked in silence for several minutes.
“They intend to sacrifice me,” Bryce said, with only a trace of despair.
“You are worth more to them than as a sacrificial lamb,” Gregory offered. Even to him, the levity seemed misplaced. “I’m sure they will end up killing me, too.”
“Then leave. They won’t stop you, and I can create a distraction if you think it’s necessary.”
Gregory thought for a moment, then shook his head. “I couldn’t make you risk yourself and then leave you here to die. Besides, I could never find my way out of this forest, anyway. I’m a terrible navigator.”
A slight smile curled at the edges of Bryce’s lips. “I hoped you wouldn’t take me up on that offer.”
“So, we both die here, anyway?” Gregory asked.
“I myself am an excellent navigator.”
It took Gregory a minute to catch on, and another minute to realize that his mind was already working on a plan to escape. Or maybe he had one all along, and it was only now coming from his subconscious to conscious mind.
They walked in silence. Gregory noticed the guards were paying more attention to them now, and he knew that he wouldn’t have much more time to speak to the prince before they forced him away.
“One guard stays awake to watch you at all times. When I motion to you tonight, lead him into the forest as far as possible to relieve yourself.”
“And then what?”
“By then I’ll have a plan,” Gregory replied, and slipped away from Bryce, falling in line with another pair of guards. They ignored him and now that the foreigners weren’t communicating, everyone relaxed again.
His mind was jumbled with information, and he tried to figure out what to do. If he disappeared in the night, alone, they probably wouldn’t follow him. Or they might decide to kill him just to make sure he didn’t warn anyone about the captured Prince.
If he tried to get Bryce free and escape with him, he would have a better chance of making it to civilization; but they would definitely chase him, and then summarily kill him if he was caught.
And what if Bryce was lying, and was only using the navigation excuse as reasoning for Gregory to risk his life? His third option was to do nothing, but then he would be entirely at the mercy of the Otagin with no idea of what lay in store.
Once he made the decision to help Bryce, he realized that his mind had already pieced together some details of a plan. He needed something that was quick and efficient, with only minimal supplies, if he was to break Bryce free.
If only he had taken the dagger…but no, he had no intention of killing anyone either way. After all, Bryce was the only other person who spoke his language, and Gregory wasn’t willing to brave the wilderness alone.
Sentries were posted in the woodland around the outside of the camp that night, but they were only interested in guarding the exterior. They were more worried about being attacked than a prisoner trying to escape, and the only people that had Bryce’s attention were his immediate guards. Everyone else went about their duties in a methodical and practiced manner. This lax attitude would play into Gregory’s favor.
The first guard lay down to sleep as the other kept watch on Bryce. On the first night with the Otagin, Gregory learned the watch rotation in the woods, and it was exactly the same as the Comerians: they traded every four hours, and the guards watching Bryce traded after six.
Exhausted with hiking all day, everyone trusted completely in the sentries keeping lookout. After only an hour, the only people still awake were Gregory, the guard watching Bryce, and the three patrolmen walking the exterior of the camp. Even the pattern of their walk was predictable, and Gregory knew that he would have no trouble slipping into the woods without them noticing.
Gregory waited until around three hours had passed before he stopped pretending to sleep. He yawned, stretched, and slipped to the outside of camp to urinate, then investigated the surrounding forest. On schedule, one sentry cast him a glance—the man looked exhausted, Gregory saw—then continued walking. Gregory might as well have been alone.
He searched the sleeping guards around his feet. Most of them were carrying rope, so he just needed to find one that didn’t store his rope too close at hand. It didn’t take long, and after a moment of finagling, he managed to procure a twenty-foot length of rope out of a sleeper’s haversack. This rope was thick and strong, but pliable. It would do what he needed with perfect precision.
Easy enough, he thought, but knew that was a lie. He was terrified, worried that at any second, he would be caught and killed. His legs felt like lead, and he couldn’t hold a coherent thought in his mind for longer than a few seconds. Everything felt and sounded surreal.
No turning back now. He held the rope tight to his side and made his way to Bryce’s position. He started manipulating the rope into a lasso, making sure to form the knot exactly as his father had taught him. It took another ten minutes to catch the prince’s eye.
