The Priestess and Her Boy Ch. 18

18 - The Capture

The return from the Eastern Kingdom was slower for the Sons of the North. Once across the Carfah Hills, Peto suggested they stop in the larger towns and villages to meet with leaders of the tribes and introduce the newly returned Prince to his people. By the time the column crested the hill above Vosgir, twelve days had passed since they took their leave of Queen Zantina. Harl had ridden with them for the first two, until they reached the mountains. And then he had turned back, but not before making Taneric promise to return in the Spring. "There must be a treaty between us," he had said. "We share Wodh, and a common language, and now, at last, with Queen Zantina on the throne, we share the values by which we live. And there are threats from far away lands which must be overcome."

A dusting of snow, the first of the season, had covered the trail during the final morning of their journey, but now the sun shone on the landscape, warming the warriors and raising their spirits.

"A fine day to return home," said Peto, gazing down at Vosgir. "It warms the soul. But wait, what is that down there?"

He pointed to the plain between the edge of the forest and the gates of Vosgir. A distant figure was running towards the Town, black against the white of the landscape. He was still some way distant from his goal, and, as they watched, five horsemen appeared from the trees behind, chasing him. The man looked back at the riders and stumbled. He picked himself up and continued running towards the gates but his effort was in vain, as the riders came ever closer, eventually catching up and surrounding him. He fell to his knees, exhausted by the chase.

Peto led the King's Guard down the hill to the scene below and they formed a large circle around the smaller group. At the same time, curious guards walked over from the gates of Vosgir, having also witnessed the chase. One of the five riders had dismounted and was approaching the kneeling figure.

"Priestess Hanja!," shouted Peto. "A man does not quickly forget a face such as yours."

She glanced up momentarily but then ignored him and stood behind the kneeling boy, reaching into her satchel and extracting the gag.

"Nikah!" shouted Taneric.

But as Nikah began to respond, Hanja slipped the gag between the exhausted boy's lips from behind. She tightened the straps behind his head, pulling the thick wooden bit deep into his mouth.

"Bind him!" she said to her men. Two dismounted and began to secure Nikah's wrists behind his back.

"He is a runaway boy," she said to Peto. "We will take him back as is our right under the Treaty of Tajorg."

"That is indeed your right." conceded Peto.

"Priestess Hanja," cried Taneric. "What is this nonsense? Come into the Town with us, let us spend a pleasant evening together; you, Nikah and I. These City Guards can enjoy an evening at a Tavern. In the morning we will decide what is to be done next. Perhaps I can purchase Nikah from the Temple. Please Hanja."

She looked across at Taneric, tears welling in her eyes, "I am sorry Tak, I cannot. You do not understand."

"Let them be!" shouted Peto to his warriors, but Kasmine, unwilling to let things drop, dismounted and approached Hanja on foot.

"Priestess, is it not enough cruelty that this exhausted boy ran so far and is now captured within sight of his goal? Why must you put that horrible thing on his face?"

"Kasmine, leave her be!" shouted Peto.

"A man is calling you," sneered Hanja. "Obey him...go running to him! And do not talk to me about cruelty, granddaughter of the Old Queen! The Goddess has cursed your bloodline!"

Kasmine stepped up close to Hanja, their faces inches apart, and whispered, "You should know that Tak serves me now in my bedchamber, although I thank you for his training, Priestess. He submits to me because he wishes to, not as a slave fulfilling an obligation to his owner."

Hanja brought up her hand, lightening fast, and cuffed Kasmine above the ear, sending her sprawling to the ground. She rose quickly, as if to lunge at the Priestess but by then Peto was there, clamping his arms around hers and lifting her from the ground as she kicked and struggled. At the same time the young City guardsman Kive put himself in front of Hanja, facing Kasmine, his sword half drawn.

"Enough!", shouted Peto, passing the struggling Kasmine to one of his sergeants, who took hold of her gingerly. He addressed the City Guards. "How do you intend to get him back to the Republic?"

"He ran this far. He can walk back. If not we will drag him."

"No," said Peto, and turned to his men, "Give them a spare horse!"