“We need to keep moving,” Bryce said.
“I need a minute, at least,” Gregory said, panting. Adrenaline had long since worn off, and now he wanted nothing more than to sleep. Bryce hesitated and then sat next to Gregory on the ground.
“I appreciate what you did for me, risking yourself.”
Gregory hesitated. “I almost killed him.”
Bryce shook his head. “If anything, we almost killed him. But he isn’t dead.”
“How can you be sure?”
“Because neither of us wanted him dead. It takes a different kind of person to actually finish the job.”
Gregory winced, but didn’t speak. His memory raced, and he felt his heart thudding into his chest. He had killed someone before, accident or not. That was the reason he was in Comer to begin with. Gregory was a murderer.
He forced the thought away. Maybe he was a murderer, and maybe not. He honestly didn’t know. But he knew that this was neither the time nor the place to have an internal debate. This moment was about survival. Neither spoke for a few minutes, and both felt the oppression of silence. They didn’t enjoy being alone with their thoughts.
“We hear stories, you know,” Bryce said, forcibly breaking the silence, “about brave heroes that fight for justice, slaughtering almost everyone they meet. But think about it: imagine if every time you found a criminal, you killed him. And every time you met someone not your same race, you assume he’s a criminal and kill him. You have to be a psychopath to do that.”
Gregory chuckled. “What about during war?”
“War is a special case,” Bryce replied, “where everyone gets to pretend to be a psychopath.”
After the words were spoken, he fell silent, brooding. Something Bryce said ended the conversation. Bryce stood and started walking away from the river, and Gregory wordlessly followed him. They walked in silence, listening to nature until they were certain there was no pursuit.
“When we reach Mulrich, I will remain outside while you procure food and supplies. We can’t risk anyone recognizing me,” Bryce said. Gregory didn’t reply. “Once we arrive at the Capital City, I will slip in unnoticed and clean up before speaking to my father. I know a blacksmith who will remove these manacles, and he will be discreet.”
“Why? What’s the point of remaining hidden?”
“This will end in bloodshed. If anyone finds out I was captured by the Otagin. My grandfather told me about the wars when he was a child. He was never scared of the enemy; he feared his own people. They slaughtered the Otagin without mercy. I won’t let that happen again.”
“Someone will find the caravan,” Gregory noted.
“By that time, I can have any story ready that I want.”
Gregory was surprised by Bryce’s attitude. He had heard great things about the young and intuitive prince, but to actually see him ready to defend the people who planned to kill him was altogether different.
“You want to protect the tribes from being slaughtered by your people.”
“Partly,” Bryce replied. “More importantly, this isn’t a war I believe we can win.”
They spoke only sparingly for the next few days as they traveled. Bryce knew a lot about the forest, and he foraged for enough food that they could stay healthy on the road. If there was pursuit, it never came close enough to cause them worry.
They slept little, determined to make it to Mulrich as fast as possible. In two days, they merged with the major roadway heading west, and without a caravan to slow them, they made the five-day trip to Mulrich in three days.
They arrived just in time to watch the city burn.
