CHAPTER THREE
Three days later, Tristan and Ryder stared wide eyed at the bustling walkways of the largest city of the North. Xander stepped up behind them with a smile on his face and took a deep breath. “That, boys, is the smell of gambling, sport, and women.”
Ryder jumped when a hand brushed his shoulder. His head swiveled around. He found himself staring into exotic, sultry eyes. The hand slid seductively over his shoulder and down his chest.
“So handsome,” she crooned.
“Hello,” Ryder managed.
Xander shook his head and took her elbow. He pushed her away from Ryder. “She’s expensive, and you don’t have any money.”
Tristan looked to his left and saw four men on stools around a rough wooden table. One man rolled dice. Another yelled victory when it hit his number. Glancing back at Ryder who was watching the gypsy sashay away, he felt his lips twitch. “Guess every land has a Sin City.”
Soft fingers brushed his arm. Tristan looked around into inviting eyes and a suggestive smile. “What do you call this place?”
“I call it Paradise,” Xander chuckled. “But there are some who call it Grundavik.”
Reigning himself in, Tristan brought his focus back to the matter at hand. “Where do we find Quin?”
Xander pursed his lips, considering. “Most likely, the arena. Many would pay for a chance to fight a prince.”
He led them to a large, multi-storied arena. Several arches allowed access inside. Passing through one, Tristan jumped as the roar of an enthralled crowd shook the walls. Xander jogged up a set of steps.
Daylight enveloped them once again as they stepped onto a wooden platform. Tristan looked around a bit dazed. All around him were seats. It was a stadium, he realized. His gaze moved to the field of play.
A squeak of distress escaped as he took a step back. Xander spared him a look before returning his attention to the battle taking place. What looked to be a grizzly bear swiped its massive paw at the face of a crouching feline that looked like a panther. The panther managed to evade the strike and bunched its muscles for a pounce.
“What is this place?!” Tristan exclaimed.
Xander crossed his arms over his chest as he watched. “The bear is a symbol of strength and size. The panther is also strong, but it is a symbol of agility and speed. Both have their advantages. But I think the panther will win.”
Tristan frowned at him. “Quin isn’t here. Is there somewhere else we can go?”
Xander sighed. “You’re a very anxious man. You need to relax.” At Tristan’s pointed look, he shrugged. “There are sublevels.”
They backtracked to the main entrance, but this time Xander led them down a set of stairs and through a series of tunnels. They passed many side bets taking place within the arena.
Finally they emerged in a room underneath the main arena. Inside was a cage of sorts. And two men were wrestling. Xander stepped up to the bars that separated the spectators from the fighters. He tilted his head to get a better look at the faces of the men.
The smaller of the two thrust his hand up and slammed his fist into the chin of the larger man. Then the smaller head butted his opponent. The larger man teetered, then fell. The victor’s chest heaved as he breathed hard.
Tristan’s eyes widened as he gripped the bars with both of his hands. “Kale!”
Blood dripped down his temple as his head snapped around at his name. His hard eyes zeroed in on Tristan. His brow rose from its furrowed rage. He took a step toward Tristan. “Tristan. You’re alive.”
“You too!” Tristan exclaimed. “Quin?”
Kale looked around as his keeper unlocked the cage to retrieve him. He turned back to Tristan with haste. “Alive. With me. They keep us in a prison nearby.”
The keeper grabbed Kale’s wrist and attached a shackle to it. Then he took the other as well. He pulled Kale out of the cage. Tristan pushed away from the cage and tried to race around to his aid. “Kale!”
Xander pulled him up short. “Stop,” he hissed in Tristan’s ear. “You can’t help him here.”
Tristan shoved at Xander. “We have to do something.”
“Not here,” Xander growled.
• • •
“That is the prison your friend spoke of,” Xander told them. They stood at the edge of a constantly moving crowd.
The prison Tristan glared at was behind a stone wall about twelve feet high. It was a mini fortress. “We have to get in there. Quin and Kale are in there.”
Xander glanced at the prison over his shoulder. “How would you suggest we do that?”
“At night,” Tristan decided. “And with a distraction.”
“I’m not going in that prison,” Xander chuckled at the insanity. “They’ll never let us out when you get us caught.”
Tristan’s eyes remained on the prison. “You want your reward or not?”
Xander frowned at Tristan’s back as he walked away. “He doesn’t give up easily.”
Ryder shook his head. “I don’t think he gives up at all.”
• • •
With the cover of night, Tristan stared at the back corner of the prison wall. He waited silently with Xander at his side. At the front wall, Ryder took a deep breath. Then another.
He knew he was stalling and berated himself. He stepped out of the shadows and stumbled his way toward the guard station. He lifted his voice in a loud, drunken song.
The guards zeroed in on him immediately but didn’t move toward him. Ryder stopped and stared up at the wall. “Fight, fight, fight,” he demanded obnoxiously. “I want a fight!”
One of the guards finally moved toward him. “Away from the wall,” he demanded.
From the back of the prison, Tristan and Xander crept up to the wall and pressed their backs against it. Tristan gave Xander a nod and cupped his hands as he bent his legs. Xander stepped into the hands. Tristan pushed up, then tried to contain his groan.
“Jeez, you’re really heavy,” he muttered quietly.
Between Xander’s jump and Tristan’s push, Xander managed to reach the top of the wall and snatched onto it with his fingertips. He pulled himself to the top and lay flat on it. Then he reached down and silently beckoned Tristan to him.
Tristan took a few steps away from the wall and got a running start. He used the wall as leverage, stepping against and jumping off of it as high as he could. His hand clasped Xander’s. Xander pulled him up until his other hand grasped the top of the wall. Then he grabbed the back of Tristan’s shirt and pulled Tristan up and over.
Tristan landed with a huff on his back in the dirt. Xander dropped lightly to his feet next to him. They could hear the yells and drunken demands of Ryder still roaring loudly.
“Tristan!” came the excited whisper from inside a darkened prison cage.
Tristan pushed Xander away from him. “Get the key from the guard.” Then he scrambled toward the cage. He could just barely make out Quin’s face. “Quin! Hang on. We’re going to get you out.”
Xander moved in silently from behind the guard. The guard’s attention was directed toward the front of the prison where all the noise was coming from. Xander slipped his arm around the guard and clamped a hand over his mouth. Then he jerked his neck hard so that the guard went limp.
Lowering the body to the ground, Xander quietly felt along the guard’s belt. His hand closed around the key to the cages. He smiled.
When he rejoined Tristan, he handed over the key and turned his back on the cages to keep a close eye out. Tristan rushed to the cage door and inserted the key. Kale had joined Quin in anticipation of their freedom.
“Over the wall there,” Tristan whispered and pointed. He pressed his back to the wall once more and offered cupped hands. Quin first, then Kale. Xander last. Once he was on top again, Xander worked the same deal to get Tristan over.
The drunken yells had stopped. Ryder had done his part and was moving away if all had gone according to plan. Even as Tristan’s feet hit the gro
und, Ryder appeared as if summoned. He was ushering three horses along with him. “Hurry!” he hissed.
Kale and Quin shared one horse. Tristan hopped on the back of Ryder’s horse, and Xander took the last one. Hooves pounded in the dirt as they raced away into the darkness just as yells of alarm rang through the cool night air.
• • •
They didn’t stop riding until dawn hit the horizon. And then only for a small break. Quin slid off of the horse from behind Kale. He hurried to Tristan and embraced him. “I thought you dead, my friend.”
Tristan grinned. “Apparently I’m harder to kill than either of us thought.”
Quin’s smile dimmed slightly. Then faded all together. His eyes gleamed with a light of agony. “Father?”
Tristan’s eyes fell. “I’m sorry, Quin. It’s my fault. He was protecting me.”
Quin’s breath caught. He had feared as much but had secretly hoped. His chin hit his chest. Then his face slowly lifted, and he gave a small nod. He laid a hand on Tristan’s shoulder and squeezed. “It is not your fault, Tristan.”
“Penley’s claimed the throne, Quin,” Tristan told him.
Quin’s expression showed surprise. “Penley?”
“He was behind the raid,” Tristan explained. “He wanted you and your father dead.”
Quin took a moment to digest the information. Then his face hardened. “Mother? Shaylin? Kyra?”
“Still at the castle,” Tristan confirmed. “They think we’re dead. I’m sorry. I couldn’t risk approaching them, and I didn’t want to tell them anything until I was sure. I needed to find you. I don’t know what to do.”
“Without my father or me around,” Quin said. “Penley can claim the throne uncontested. But my mother wouldn’t…”
Tristan shook his head. “She doesn’t have a choice. I think Penley is holding Walt in the dungeon to keep her from acting.” He paused. “And I wouldn’t put it past him to use Shaylin and Kyra against her. She’s already lost your father, and she thinks she’s lost you. She won’t risk them too.”
Kale had listened silently. Suddenly he faced Quin and dropped to one knee. “Give me your command, your majesty, and I will follow it,” he declared.
Quin’s mouth tightened in a firm line. “We ride for Castle Lochlain. We ride for my family.”
“I don’t mean to speak out of turn,” Tristan interjected. “But Quin…you can’t ride into Lochlain. Not without preparation. A plan. This wasn’t an impulsive decision on Penley’s part. He’s probably been planning this for a long time.”
“Where do we go then?” Ryder asked.
Quin clenched his jaw. He knew Tristan was right, but his body strained for action. He couldn’t act rashly. What would his father do? “I know where we can go,” he finally said.