Chapter 12 INTO ENEMY TERRITORY

Chapter 12 INTO ENEMY TERRITORY
ETHAN’S POV
The rope bit into my wrists as the mercenary yanked it tighter, the fibers scraping skin raw. I sucked in a breath but didn’t cry out. Pain felt pointless now.
“Not so tough now, are you?” he sneered, flashing yellowed teeth. “Thought you could run from the Silver Covenant? Nobody runs from them.”
I knelt on the forest floor beside Kiera. They’d bound her hands too—though it had taken three men, bruises, and a broken nose to manage it. Even captured, even forced to her knees, she radiated danger. Like a blade waiting for the right moment to strike.
“Five hundred gold,” the mercenary leader said, unfolding the wanted poster again and comparing it to my face. “That’s a fortune for one deserter. You must’ve really angered someone, boy.”
“I told the truth,” I said. My voice sounded steadier than I felt. “That’s all.”
“Truth?” He laughed. “Truth doesn’t pay my bills. But your head will.”
Kiera shifted slightly. Just enough to catch my eye. She tilted her head barely perceptible toward the smallest mercenary standing too close to her left side.
I understood.
She had a plan.
“So what’s the story? another mercenary asked, squatting nearby. “Why’d you desert? Got scared of fighting orcs?”
“No,” I said. “I got scared of dying for a lie.”
The leader crouched in front of me, interest flickering. “A lie?”
“The whole war,” I said. “The Silver Covenant burned those villages and blamed the orcs. They manufactured the conflict.”
For half a heartbeat, doubt crossed his face. Recognition, maybe. But greed won.
“Doesn’t matter if it’s true,” he said, standing. “I’m still getting paid. Tie them tighter. We move at dawn. I want this bounty collected before”
Kiera moved.
She hurled herself sideways, slamming into the smaller mercenary. He went down hard, sword flying from his grip. Before anyone could react, she swept his legs and seized the weapon despite her bound wrists.
“Run!” she shouted.
The leader swung at her. She blocked with the sword, steel ringing through the forest. The impact sent him stumbling.
I rolled toward my guard and drove my heel into his knee. He screamed and collapsed. I grabbed his dagger and cut through the ropes binding my wrists.
“Behind you!” Kiera yelled.
I spun just as an axe tore through the air where my head had been. I ducked and stabbed upward. The blade bit into flesh. The mercenary cursed and dropped his weapon.
Kiera fought two men at once, her movements restricted but lethal. Every strike was deliberate. Every dodge calculated. Watching her was like witnessing controlled chaos.
But desperation only went so far.
“We can’t win this!” I shouted.
“We don’t have to!” she snapped. “Just survive. The stream go!”
We ran. Again.
Branches whipped my face as arrows thudded into trees around us. My lungs burned. My legs screamed.
“Zig-zag!” Kiera commanded. “Don’t run straight!
Cold water slammed into my boots as we hit the stream. The shock jolted me awake, sharpened my thoughts.
“Across and up!” she pointed. “They won’t follow us there.”
“Why not?”
“Because it’s orc territory.
We scrambled up the muddy slope, fingers clawing for roots. My hand slipped. I started sliding.
Kiera grabbed my arm and hauled me up with terrifying strength.
“Move!”
We crested the hill and plunged into dense pines. Symbols were carved into trees and stones jagged, ancient.
“What are those? I gasped.
“Boundary markers.” She sliced the ropes from her wrists. “They’re about to make a fatal mistake.”
The mercenaries emerged below, hesitant now.
“They crossed into orc lands,” one muttered.
“For five hundred gold, we follow!” the leader barked.
They took ten steps.
Arrows slammed into the earth around them.
Six orc warriors emerged from the trees—huge, scarred, silent. Their warning was unmistakable.
Fear beat greed.
The mercenaries ran.
The leader glared up at us. “This isn’t over, Blackwood! The Silver Covenant will find you!”
Then he fled.
The orcs turned to Kiera. A scarred warrior spoke sharply. She answered in their tongue. After a tense exchange, he nodded and vanished with his warriors.
“What did you say? We I asked.
“That you’re under my protection.” She sheathed her sword. “But we keep moving.”
We walked until dusk. My hands shook as adrenaline faded.
“You fought well,” she said. “For a scholar.”
“Fear helps.”
“No. Instinct does.”
We camped beneath a rocky overhang. Kiera lit a small fire. I examined my wrists—blood seeped from deep rope burns.
“Let me see,” she said.
She cleaned the wounds and applied Moonleaf paste. The sting faded quickly.
“My turn,” she said, turning to reveal a deep gash on her shoulder.
“That’s serious,” I said.
“We were busy not dying.”
I treated the wound carefully, aware of how close we were. Of her scars. Of her breath.
“Thank you,” she said quietly. “For staying.”
“We’re partners.”
“Are we?”
I met her eyes. “I trust you.”
“Trust is dangerous.”
“Only if you betray it.”
Silence settled between us, heavy and charged.
“These will scar,” she said, touching my wrist.
“So will this war.”
Her hand lingered. Warm. Real.
I pulled away. “We should rest.”
Later, as the fire died low, she whispered, “Ethan?”
“Yeah?”
“When this is over… what happens to us?”
I didn’t know. But I knew one thing.
“I want to find out.”
She smiled.
And in th
at moment, caring for Kiera Stoneheart felt more dangerous than any battlefield.