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To Steal From a King
A Trick Gone Wrong (Valerlanta)

A Trick Gone Wrong (Valerlanta)

For two complete strangers that were leaning towards enemies, laying beside each other made sleep a fleeting and delicate thing. Valerlanta woke with every sound with her knife ready, and she imagined he was doing the same.

He had no reason to attack her—not if he wanted out of here alive—but Valerlanta did not want to be too cautious.

So, when they finally gave up and rose, he looked as tired as she felt. He had dark circles under his eyes, and he squinted at the first glimmers of the sun as if it was an unwelcome visitor.

“Good morning,” the knight yawned, scratching at the stubble on chin as if unused to not having a shaved face.

“Good morning, knight,” she replied flatly. They sat together in the shelter as Valerlanta struggled to get the motivation to get moving. Every bit of her was sore from the events the day prior, and she was not looking forward to the ground she would have to cover today.

At least the rising sun was pretty. It danced between the leaves of the branches and cast the forest in an enchanting, golden glow.

“Venic.”

“What?”

“My name. It is Venic, from house Elfailden”

“Oh,” Valerlanta blinked at him. “We are sharing now, are we? Someone woke up in a better mood.”

“Excuse me for trying to make things less awkward.”

“Ha! I don’t think there is much we can do about that. We come from different worlds.”

“Not from what you tell me about why you have your magic.”

Valerlanta winced. She could not help it. This was a weapon Valerlanta had given no one, and so was not expecting the blow to happen so soon. He just had to pick out the very thing that bothered her most.

The thief turned her back to him as she gathered her things. “My father who adopted me raised me out here, and—as far as I am concerned—this is who I am and who I ever want to be.”

“Hmm.” Venic grunted, the disbelief still obvious. “And do you remember your birth parents?”

“I vaguely remember my mother, but only at the end,” she said, feeling distant. He waited for her to continue, but Valerlanta kept silent. She did not want to relive those memories.

The smell.

The feel of cold that seeped right into her bones.

The darkness.

“My name is Valerlanta,” she said instead, then burst out of the shelter. She started taking down the camp, carefully tucking the pine bows back into the tree. Eventually, they would discolor, but it might give them extra time if anyone started tracking them.

The knight, Venic, started mirroring her actions. He pretended not to catch her surprised expression as they both worked in silence.

Soon, the camp had disappeared, and they were on the move again.

They walked.

And walked.

Both moved tired silence; not wanting to put the effort into words.

The sun reached the highest point in the sky.Then he caught on.

“Stop,” He ordered. “That mountain was on our right just a moment ago. I know it.”

They were on the top of a ridge with the forest layout beside them for as far as the eye could see.

“No, it wasn’t.”

It was.

“Don’t lie to me! I recognize it. That mountain looks exactly like an old man’s nose.”

Valerlanta hid her panic behind a roll of the eyes. “Well, sometimes I have to change direction to go around dangerous terrain.”

“I—”

You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.

He would keep on it, and she knew it. A cloud of anger darkened the brown of his eyes. That meant it was time.

Valerlanta reached into her sleeve and brought out a tiny scroll. “What is this, anyway?”

The distraction worked. The knight stuck his hand in his belt pouch, and, not finding the scroll there, snatched it from her hand. “You stole from me?”

“Oh, calm down. I can’t read, anyway.”

“That is not the point!”

“I was only curious. It is not like I stole your coin or —” Valerlanta paused and raised a hand. A murmur of a voice floated in the air like a dandelion seed; delicate and gone in a moment. Nothing she could make sense of, but she was sure it had been there. Sure it had been a human voice.

Valerlanta heard the wind. Birds. No voice.

Goosebumps rose on her skin.

“What is it?” Venic asked.

“Must be nothing,” she said, but was not so sure.

‘I made a mistake.’ That was a thought that was booming.

This trail was popular for smugglers, thieves, and hermits alike, so had she had simply heard one of them? Could she be so lucky?

Her hand snatched her bow, and she strung it.

“Just in case,” she told him.

“Just in case what? What did you hear?”

“I thought I heard something.”

“What?” Venic demanded, but she was already on the move at a swift pace. Just ahead was a cliff with a sheer drop.

“Don’t worry about it!”

“How can I not when you clearly are?”

Venic grabbed her arm and turned her to face him.

“What did you hear?” Icy serious eyes glared down at her. His fingers squeezed painfully into her arm.

“Alright, alright! Fine, I get it! Let go!” Valerlanta trashed her arm and his hand released her, only to rest on the hilt of his sword. Valerlanta was good at many things, but close-combat was not on that list. “I heard a voice… I think.”

His eyes went wide, then he hissed in frustration.

“I am uncertain, though!” she said as he paced in front of her. “If we just keep moving – ”

“This is a disaster. This has all been a disaster since the moment I left! Blast!”

“Venic, listen! Listen to me! We have to get across that. Once we do, we can throw off whoever is on our trail.” Valerlanta gestured to the cliff-side and the bridge there; if you could call it that. The truth of the matter was that it was really just a log wedged between two cliffs over a horrendous drop, but it served the right purpose.

The knight looked and froze in his pacing. His face drained of color. “You can’t mean to cross that.”

“Why not? Are you — no way! Are you scared of heights? How in the toad turd did you climb a mountain?”

“No, I am not scared of heights! I fear falling off an old log and splattering on rocks below,” he snapped. “Why can’t you thieves build a normal bridge? One with planks, maybe even some railings?”

“They have to blend into the surroundings from a distance,” Valerlanta explained, motioning again to the bridge to get him moving. “And some, like this one, have secondary uses.”

He cast her a weary gaze. “Like what?”

‘What do you think? Isn’t it obvious, you sword-brained oaf?’

Instead, Valerlanta sucked a breath and tried to look patient. “It is a—”

Venic’s head whipped back, and his whole body stiffened. “Did you hear that?”

The voice had been clear enough to remove any doubt. It was human, and they were being followed.

They exchanged worried expressions.

‘Smugglers,’ she reminded herself. ‘It could still be smugglers.’

“This way! We have no choice now.” Valerlanta rushed forward.

She cut the lines on their side, then stepped onto the bridge with cat-like ease. A section of bark shifted under her foot, but the log itself held firm. As Valerlanta lifted her foot, the bark came free and spiraled down the far drop.

It hit the rocks below and bounced to pieces on the rocks.

Hardly paying it any mind, she put one foot in front of the other in easy steps.

Valerlanta jumped off the other side.

“Hurry!” she called back.

Venic had stepped onto the log, but was edging across with the smallest of movements.

This was not good. It was the people who over thought their actions that made mistakes.

Her gaze flickered to the sword — her sword — currently strapped to his back. If he fell, there would be no retrieving it.

“I thought knights were brave? You can do better than that!” She chided.

“Oh sard off,” he snapped, his arms wavering and his face paled even more.

Valerlanta glanced back to the trail behind him. There were no signs of movement at the moment, but Valerlanta would not see them until they crested the ridge.

“Stop looking down!”

“How can I both look where I am stepping and not look down!?”

“Look further ahead and plan your next steps.”

“You are not helping!”

“You are close enough! Just jump off.”

The boots of the knight hit solid ground, and Venic gasped with relief.

‘About time!’

Valerlanta cut the ropes. The log did not fall. That was the whole point of the bridge.

‘Why didn’t it fall?’

“Blast’n toad turd!” Valerlanta grunted, slamming her shoulder against it and digging her boots into the dirt.

It did not move. The rains the night prior had sunk the edge of the log into the mud.

Two more hands appeared beside her.

Both knight and thief pushed. The log groaned, then tipped over the edge.

Valerlanta watched it fall and break into several pieces against the rocks. The sound of it echoed down the valley.

“That will slow whoever it is, but they would have heard it,” she said.

Venic did not respond. There was a new sort of dark expression on the knight's face. He was staring at that mountain again and doubt shadowed his features.

“Come on. We still have to hurry. They could find another way across,” she lied, rushing away from the ledge.

He followed in grim silence.

The path opened to a downward slope of loose shale, boulders, and scarce trees. There was not a cloud in the sky, and the dismantled bridge protected their backs. Despite all that, a pin-pricking feeling shot across her skin and her heart slammed.

Something was still not right. Her eyes darted back and forth, eying the shale and the small brush. Beside that brush were several small piles of greenery that should not be there. There was no reason for such perfect piles of pine bows and other leaves.

‘Forest blinders.’

“Wait!” Valerlanta screamed, putting out an arm to stop the knight from passing her.

A blast of heat slammed into her and knocked her off her feet.