Two days had passed since their fortunate meeting, and with their causes now bound together, they rode for King''s Cross. Sir Chase Praxton, the dashing knight with eyes the color of the summer sky, rode on a borrowed spare horse in the vanguard with his gaze affixed on the horizon.


    Behind them, a cloud of dust sent thoughts of pursuit through their ranks. Lord Herl''s cautious nature had him send two of their number back to scout. When the men returned, it was bearing ill tidings. The dust was indeed pursuit, and Kasiam''s men were closing in. The relentless hunt was proof of the Regent''s determination to stamp out any contention of his plans.


    A hurried discussion ensued, voices carrying on the morning breeze. Their decision was unanimous: flight was their only hope, a desperate gamble against the persistence of their pursuers. They were still two days away from King''s Cross, but Matthew''s men possessed some knowledge of the area and were familiar with the hidden trails and smuggling routes that wound through the heart of the woodlands. It became an urgent game of cat and mouse, a dance of shadows through the forest in a gamble that would test their bonds and courage.


    The afternoon became a continuous chase as they evaded the determined hunters. They managed to lose the party only to be found again some hours later; their narrow escape was a gamble against overwhelming odds. They were trailed well into the evening, the horses'' hooves pounding against the soft forest floor, until finally, they managed to shake their tails and find some respite deep in the heart of the woods.


    "This cannot continue," Chase remarked in a hoarse voice as they paused. "Even if we stay ahead of them, they will eventually realize our destination. There is nothing to stop them from ambushing us there."


    Lord Matthew agreed. He was a seasoned commander with a keen understanding of the futility of their situation. "I doubt they would receive a warm welcome in King''s Cross. The place is teeming with patriots and partisans… But you are right, Praxton. We must find a way to end this for good. Let us make camp and discuss it further to determine the best course of action."


    They let the matter rest for the moment, instead enjoying the fleeting peace of the coming night. Their camp was a desolate place, dry and chilly, devoid of the comfort they all craved. They dared not risk a fire, so they stated their hunger with cold rations and the dwindling contents of canteens. The only shelter was a shallow hollow off the trail, a scant refuge against the chill darkness. They left the saddles on the horses, ready to flee at the slightest hint of danger.


    A quiet discussion ensued, careful lest their voices carry in the still night. One of the men suggested continuing their journey under cover of darkness to distance themselves from their pursuers, perhaps reaching the city before dawn. There, they could rally any sympathetic folk and lay in wait for those who pursued them.


    Lord Herl had developed a particular caution since their betrayal at the palace; he dismissed the idea. "The risks are too dire for such a journey," he cautioned. "We''d be more likely to lame a horse than to escape unscathed."


    A daring idea sparked within Chase''s mind, a slight chance against the lack of hope. He turned to one of the scouts, his voice layered with newfound determination. "How many of them follow us?" he asked.


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    Six, Sir, all well-armed and equipped," the scout replied.


    "Well then, what if?" Chase began, his eyes sparked with a dangerous glint. "Were we to lure them somewhere more advantageous to us and set an ambush along the road? We could eliminate them to the last man and continue unmolested."


    Matthew Herl considered the idea. It was a daring plan, one the enemy wouldn''t see coming until it was done. He barked a quick question at another of his men: "Pratt, you know the land around here best. Is there a suitable place for such an ambush?"


    Pratt was a veteran with a keen eye for tactics. He mulled the question a bit before he nodded. "I believe I know a spot, my Lord. Should we return to the main road, a small river crosses it a half day from the city. It''s not deep, but they must slow their pace to ford it. The banks have a dense cover. We can beat them there and strike without warning."


    As they discussed the plan, Matthew liked it more and more. They would depart well before sunrise, navigating the trail while leaving enough signs of their passage for a blind man to follow. Reaching the Ford well ahead of the Regent''s men, they would conceal themselves within the brush. Two men with bows would be stationed on either side of the road, ready to unleash a hail of arrows. The remaining men would surge from cover with swords drawn to finish the grim work. With the matter settled, they got what rest they could.


    The light of morning found them in position, ready to strike. Chase waited, his breath held. The plan''s success relied heavily on the element of surprise. As dawn painted the sky, he heard the sound of approaching hooves. Soon, the six-man group appeared on the roadway, moving cautiously as they approached the Ford. They clustered together, their confidence creating a venerability.


    A silent flight of arrows signaled the start of the ambush. Two of the pursuers were struck dead in an instant, their horses rearing as the men fell to the ground. Chase put spurs to his horse''s flanks, bursting from cover with his sword raised. He charged his nearest enemy, eyes locked on the man''s grim face, noting the look of shock as his blade found its mark. The man barely had time to react before he fell to the ground, his life extinguished in an instant.


    Chase turned to find his next target, and as he did so, he was flooded with relief and exhilaration. The enemy lay scattered across the ground, their lifeless bodies a result of the swift efficiency of the ambush. One man had sprouted two arrows in his chest, another died from a single arrow in his neck, and the remaining had been felled by the blades of Lord Herl and his man. Like Chase''s own victim, the remaining opponents had been caught off guard; they had no defense against the ferocity of their cornered quarry.


    Matthew gave orders to his group, instructing them to strip the fallen of anything of value and discard the bodies in the brush. The enemy''s horses were captured and also stripped, and their former riders'' possessions were transferred to the patriot''s mounts before the animals were sent back the way they had come.


    "A fine little fight," Matthew remarked, eyes glinting with fierce pride. "I still want a chance at Kasiam, but killing his men will have to do it for now." His tone''s finality left no doubt about the nature of his resolve.


    "Agreed," Chase replied with passion." We must go on our way, though, without delay. The sooner we reach King''s Cross, the sooner we can work to free Amira. I''ll not rest until she is safe."


    Lord Herl made an effort to calm Praxton''s restless spirit. "Peace, Chase. We''ll have her free in no time." The words fell on deaf ears. "In the meantime, we will press on. I feel a need for the company of like-minded souls."


    The rest of the journey was marked by anticipation, hearts filled with hope as they neared their destination. Chase felt hope for the first time since Amira was taken from him. They made their way, supplies replenished by the spoils of their recent victory. Before the evening caught them, with spirits lifted by the promise of freedom ahead, they rode into King''s Cross. A city filled with Prashian patriots and insurrectionists from other provinces, sworn to their lands and fiercely opposed to the Regent''s tyrannical ambitions.