John counted twenty three men in the small forest clearing, all battered and bloodied. They were surrounded by towering old growth trees, which surprised John. They were an hour at most from the capital and already surrounded by wilderness. Escaping from the Royal City in Mithia wouldn’t have been anywhere near as easy. Most of them glared at the carriage in a mixture of hostility and confusion.

“We turned on our brothers back at the gate because you told us the king was in here,” one of the men shouted angrily.

“I never said that,” Jeffrey shot back hotly. He had taken off his helmet and John was surprised at how young he looked. “Besides, you saw how they attacked the carriage when they thought His Majesty was inside!”

“Where is his Majesty, then?” another asked, “If he’s imprisoned in the castle, we should mount an assault at once.”

“You abandoned him in the castle, Sir Jeffrey?” came another voice and soon everyone was shouting amongst themselves.

“I heard our forces have been recalled at last from the Army of Four Kingdoms,” John heard someone say. “We should meet up with them and report to General Raymond.”

“King Frederick is dead!”

The clearing fell silent, and everyone’s attention locked onto Udoriol who was standing on the carriage’s roof.

“He was murdered before our very eyes by his son, Prince Matthew,” the elf continued. “We’re sorry we misled you, but it was the only way to get more loyalists out of the city.”

The silence was palpable, and a few of the men began to despair. “What do we do now?” someone wailed.

“We should return and beg the prince for forgiveness,” someone else suggested. John was shocked when a few of the men nodded in agreement.

“That will get you all killed!” Udoriol cried. “Proud defenders of the king, what is the first thing that happens when there’s a king is deposed behind closed doors? Anyone of dubious loyalty who knows of what happened is silenced!”

“He is right!” Jeffrey shouted as he climbed up onto the carriage so that he could be seen more easily, “The Royal Army is already on its way back from the Southward Expansion. We can intercept them while they are on their way to Linindale.”

“Lindale,” Udoriol frowned, was that once called Linoran?” Udoriol ventured.

“It was when these lands were ruled by the elves,” Jeffrey replied, “Why?”

“Why is the army being sent to the southeast corner of the kingdom?” Udoriol mused.

“That is unusual,” Jeffrey conceded, “But we can use that to our advantage. The route they are taking will take them through the Marshes of Arringdor. We can approach them there. Their general is an old friend of mine. He will listen to me.”

“I think the prince was targeting me… but why?” Udoriol wondered out loud as he furrowed his brow with worry. “And Lininoran is right on the edge of the Enchanted Forests, isn’t it?”

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“What’s the Enchanted Forests?” John asked.

“they are the border of the elven kingdom, Effulian,” Udoriol replied. “I think the prince intends to invade the elven kingdom.”

“But why?” Jeffrey asked in shock.

“I don’t know,” Udoriol conceded. “For what it’s worth, I think we should do as you say and attempt to meet up with the Royal Army.”

A warning whistle sounded from the trees and John felt everyone’s tension increase. Jeffrey hopped down from the wagon and consulted one of his men. “How many men do you have who are familiar with navigating in the woods?”

“One or two,” came the reply.

“We have to move, they’re already on our trail,” the young lord warned.

The man paled and nodded. “We lack supplies and have wounded among our number. We won’t be able to go for long or very far…”

Jeffrey bit his lip and stared off into the trees thoughtfully. At length, he declared, “We’ll split the men up. Able bodied and injured and make for Arringford using separate routes. Inform only the pathfinders where we’re going and that they’re to disappear if it looks like they’re going to get captured.”

The man’s eyes widened and Grimald cleared his throat. Jeffrey turned around and noticed that John and the dwarf could hear everything they had said.

“Our lips will be sealed, don’t worry,” John said, keeping his voice low, “Besides, we’re very adept at running away.”

Jeffrey narrowed his eyes and his hand drifted towards his sword.

“And we’ll have to travel with the wounded on account of his leg,” Udoriol added as he leapt down from the driver’s seat. “Besides, I will be able to treat some of the more minor wounds.”

“Don’t worry, we’re very discrete,” John added.

“My lord!” panted a man dressed in brown as he burst from the trees, “They’re almost here, perhaps ten minutes away, we must hurry!”

“How did they find us so quickly?” John exclaimed.

Udoriol tapped John on the shoulder and turned to look at the carnage their carriage had left as they had sped through the woods. “Oh.”

“Go, disperse,” Jeffrey ordered, “We haven’t much time.”

“Wounded this way!” cried a man dressed in brown.

“Come on then,” John breathed as he helped Grimald down from the carriage. They hurried after the line of walking wounded that were already at the tree line. John turned and saw five men still in the clearing standing close to the wagon.

“What are they doing?” John muttered.

“Buying us time,” Udoriol replied.

John’s eyes widened. “Why? Our pursuers aren’t here yet.”

“Perhaps they feel they can’t survive the journey,” Grimald replied softly, “Or perhaps they don’t want to run.”

John bit his lip as the men raised their swords high over their heads in Jeffrey’s direction. “Treto watch over you!” they cried.

“Treto watch over all of you,” Jeffrey shouted back, “We will meet again soon, in His presence at the End of Days.”

As they plunged into the forest, John found it difficult to track the man wearing brown who was leading the way. He looked over his shoulder and saw that men were beginning to fall behind. He was about to call out to their pathfinder to slow down when he heard shouts from the clearing behind them. Their pursuers had caught up, and it had scarcely been five minutes. John watched as the others around them began to pick up the pace, their faces masks of grim determination. He looked back ahead, and his blood froze. Their pathfinder had disappeared.

“He’s abandoned us,” he breathed, “Did either of you see where he went?”

Udoriol and Grimald both shook their heads. “I think he took advantage of the commotion behind to give us the slip.”

“Did Jeffrey plan this from the start?” John wondered.

“They probably don’t think we can evade our pursuers either and don’t want us to lead them to the rally point,” Udoriol mused.

“What do we do now?” John asked as he tried to curb his panic.

The other wounded began stumbling off in every direction in an effort to relocate their pathfinder and soon they were all alone in the middle of the woods. John opened his mouth to call out to them but was stopped by Grimald.

“Quiet,” the dwarf hissed, “Do you want to give our position away?”

Behind them, John heard the barking of dogs and the sounds of men crashing through the undergrowth.

“What do we do now?”