However things turned out, Aedan was past feeling guilty. Now, he felt only anger, not so much at Laera as at himself. Once again, he had received a painful lesson in the foibles of human nature—in this case, his own. Belatedly, he understood the true meaning of self-discipline. Laera had excited him, and he had wanted her. He would not take refuge in choosing to think she had seduced him, for even though she had initiated their affair, he had been a more than willing participant right from the start. He had known full well what he was doing, as he had known the consequences, and yet he did it anyway. He could blame no one but himself, and whatever punishment would come his way now, he would certainly deserve it. If only, somehow, his parents could be spared the disgrace of their son’s folly.
Torn between anger at himself and agonized concern over his family, Aedan rode quickly down the trail leading from the castle, reining in at a bend on a promontory that gave a commanding view of the town of Seasedge and the spreading fields of the coastal plain. As his gaze swept across the wide expanse of gently rolling, grassy fields, he searched for a lone rider. Finally, he spotted him, galloping across a meadow to the east, not far from the edge of the forest. He had flown his hawk, and the bird had already stooped to make a kill.
Aedan urged his horse into a canter down the serpentine trail, and when he reached the more gradual incline of the lower slope, he kicked his horse into a gallop. Michael would be angry with him, and to make things worse, he had not brought his hawk. He tried to think of what he would tell the prince, what excuse he could make for his tardiness. He felt a brief pang of guilt at the thought of lying to him, but if Laera talked, Michael would learn the truth soon enough. If not, it was just as well. He was too young to understand about such things, and there was nothing to be served in causing him undue distress. Aedan had neglected his duties long enough in thinking only of himself. Now he would have to think about the prince, which he knew he should have been doing all along.
He lost sight of Michael when he reached the plain, and he used the ends of his reins to whip up his mount as he galloped in the direction he’d last seen him. He should have brought a guard escort with him, as he usually did, but it was too late to worry about that now. As he topped a small rise, without slacking pace, he scanned the fields ahead of him. No sign of the prince. Perhaps his hawk had stooped upon its prey in a slight depression and Michael had dismounted out of sight. He continued riding in the same direction, heading east, toward the edge of the pine forest.
He didn’t like the idea of Michael’s being out alone, and he liked even less the idea of his being so close to the forest. The province of Boeruine was not Anuire. They were on the frontier, and there could be brigands in the forest, or bears, or some equally dangerous creature. Renegade elves were also a possibility, though Aedan didn’t think it likely they’d risk coming so close to Seaharrow. Still, Michael should have known better than to go riding off alone. And, he immediately thought, he should have known better than to be distracted from his duties.
He topped another rise and reined in briefly to look around as his restive horse pawed the ground and snorted. Still no sign of Michael. Where could the boy have gone? Surely, he would not have been foolish enough to ride into the forest? But then, Aedan reminded himself, this was the fearless Prince Michael Roele, conqueror of imaginary elves and goblins, slayer of monsters from his dreams. Michael simply didn’t know enough to be cautious. And if he had gone into the forest…. Aedan swallowed nervously. A grown man could easily get lost in there. He urged his mount into a gallop once again.
As he rode, he scanned the sky, thinking he might spot Michael’s hawk, but there was no sign of the bird, either. He glanced back toward the castle. He was pretty sure he had reached roughly the same spot where he had seen Michael from the trail leading down from Seaharrow. The boy could not have ridden very far.
“Michael!” he called out. “My lord!”
He waited. There was no response. Aedan felt a knot of tension in his stomach. Suppose the prince had fallen from his horse and was lying injured somewhere nearby, unable to respond? Aedan called out again. No answer. He searched for tracks.
After a while, he found them. They were leading toward the forest.
Aedan swore softly to himself and followed the tracks of Michael’s horse. As he approached the tree line, he heard an unmistakable screech and looked up. It was Slayer, Michael’s hawk. He had helped Michael train the bird himself. He whistled loudly, calling the bird. With an answering cry, it came flying out the trees just ahead. He held his arm out, and the hawk came down to roost. Aedan winced as the sharp talons dug into his forearm. He had neglected to put on his hawking glove. He looked around. There was still no sign of Michael.
“Where is he, girl?” he asked the bird. “Where did he go?”
The hawk looked agitated. It swiveled its fierce little head sharply back and forth, fluttering its wings. Aedan gritted his teeth at the pain in his forearm as he felt blood moisten his sleeve. He had lost the trail. He turned his horse, looking down at the ground as he tried to find the tracks again. Suddenly, something came hissing through the air, and he felt what seemed like a sharp, strong blow to his shoulder. The hawk took wing with a screeching cry as Aedan tumbled from his saddle.
He fell hard on his side and cried out with pain. He rolled onto his back, clutching at the shaft protruding from the wound. A bolt from a crossbow. Bandits! He reached for his sword, and it was only then he realized that he had left it behind in the stables in his rush to get away from Laera and catch up with the prince.
He cursed himself for an idiot and fumbled awkwardly with his left hand for the dagger in his right boot, realizing with a sinking feeling that even his sword would have been an inadequate defense against crossbows. The dagger would be nearly useless. Still, it was all he had. But even as his fingers closed around the hilt of the dagger in his boot, another crossbow bolt struck the dirt scarcely an inch away from his foot, and he froze. He heard a low, nasty sound that was halfway between a chuckle and an animal growl, and looked up to see four small figures emerge from the brush.
They were no more than about four and a half feet tall, but they were very muscular and lean, armed with short swords, long knives, spears, and crossbows. Each of them wore chain mail, greaves, and peaked, open-faced, spike-topped casques. They carried small, round war shields strapped to their backs, and two of them held spears pointed down at Aedan, while the other two aimed crossbows at him. All four had sharp, swarthy features; feral, golden yellow eyes with snakelike pupils; dark, coppery skin; flat faces and sloped foreheads. Their arms were unusually long, and their teeth were sharp and pointed, the canines shaped like fangs. Haelyn help me, Aedan thought. Goblins!
He had never seen a goblin before, but he had heard stories about them, and he knew their small stature did not make them any less dangerous. They were extremely strong and possessed preternaturally quick reactions, with excellent night vision. They were a seminomadic, warrior culture who used slave labor extensively, and it was said that they sometimes ate human flesh as a ritual to take the power of their enemies. There were goblin kingdoms spread throughout isolated regions of Cerilia, in the lands of Thurazor, Urga-Zai, Kal Kalathor, the Blood Skull Barony, Markazor, and the Five Peaks. However, Aedan had never dreamed that goblins would dare to venture this far south, so close to Seaharrow.
They were probably part of a raiding party from Thurazor or the Five Peaks. He could not imagine only four of them would have risked such a journey, penetrating so deeply through elven lands to reach Boeruine. All this flashed through his mind in an instant as he desperately tried to push his fear aside and think clearly, for he knew his survival would depend on what happened in the next few moments.