I hit the wet road face-first. On principle, I start to roll over, but the guards are expecting this. A reinforced toe flies in from nowhere and connects with my ribs, bringing a shocking flush of pain in my lungs. I gasp, dizzy, trying to drag my sword out from under me, but someone puts a knee on my back, crushing out the last of my breath. One by one, my fingers are pried off the hilt, and then my hands are planted firmly behind my back. I feel the rub of a rope.
“She killed my maid!” Kimela is shrieking. “Look at her—she’s dead! The Sunshield Bandit murdered her!”
I give a feeble buck, my cheek grinding the dirt, but there are hands all over me now, and the race of pain up my side only grows worse. Someone grabs my ponytail and lifts my head—the fancy cowhide hat must have fallen off in the coach—and pulls my bandanna into my mouth, knotting it tightly behind my neck. A bag that smells like wood shavings and rusted metal goes over my head. My boots drag against the mud in a final attempt at a kick, but it takes only seconds for my ankles to be bound together, too.
Following that comes a kind of stunned silence from everyone—me, the ashoki, the guards, the woods.
“What . . . what should we do, Captain?” asks a voice, sounding like she’s still trying to process what just happened.
“There were more bandits—they must have fled into the forest. You two—stay here with the coach. Lock the doors. Uerik, work on clearing that tree. You, and you, make a sweep of the banks. Lieutenant, you and Portis ready your horses.” Someone nudges me with their boot. “You’ll take the bandit back to Tolukum.”
There’s a murmuring of affirmations and a rush of crunching boots and hooves. The rain spatters the cloth sack over my head, seeping down my face.
Veran, I think hazily. If you ever wanted to play the hero, now would be a great time.
But the woods remain silent.