Clash of Wills (8 page)

“Why is it called that?” Samantha asked.

“If you make the climb, you’ll find out for yourself. Only the hardiest souls can manage it. Three hours of steep stairs straight up the mountain, with only two places to break the journey along the way. Most folks quit before they reach the first lookout.”

A few patrons straggled in, and the owner left to attend to their needs. As he stumped off, Samantha noticed he had a wooden peg where his right boot should have been. She shuddered. “The Uncharted Region is indeed a rough place.”

“At least we know where to find your brother. I vote for the stairs, if you’re game. It’ll be difficult, but we’d only have the elements to battle and not a bunch of cutthroats.”

“I agree. Time is against us so we’ve little choice.”

Will drained his tea and stood. “I’ll fetch the map and fill our water skins at the well.”

“I’ll come too.”

“No, stay here where it’s warm, and I’ll be back before you know it.”

He hoisted his pack over one shoulder and made his way out of the tavern. Although she was impatient to get started, Samantha had little choice but to wait. She’d just finished her second cup of tea when an unsavory group of men entered the tavern. She stifled a gasp.
The same highwaymen who’d tried to rob us a few days ago!
They all had footwear, so they’d either managed to retrieve their boots from the stream or found some other unfortunate people to rob.
I must go before they recognize me.

Samantha left a few coins on the table to pay for the tea, retrieved her pack, and quickly left the tavern. Although she tried to catch up to Wills, she didn’t see him anywhere. Someone pointed her down an alleyway leading to the general store, but when she arrived he’d already come and gone. Panic quickened her pace as she retraced her steps, and her heart began to pound.

Halfway through the alley, two unpleasantly familiar men blocked her exit.
The highwaymen must have recognized me at the tavern!
A sense of dread gripped her so tightly she found it hard to breathe.

“Well, looky here, we got ourselves a scared little mouse,” one of them sneered.

His snaggle-toothed companion laughed. “More like a piece of cheese, I reckon. We can use him to catch the bigger rat.”

Samantha turned to find her retreat cut off by the other two men. She dropped her pack to the ground, but before she could reach for her sling, the scarred bandit rushed forward and held a knife to her throat. “Your tall friend is just ’round the corner,” he muttered. “Call him.”

“No.”

“Do it, lad, or I’ll ventilate your windpipe.”

Samantha flinched as she felt the blade slicing into her skin.
If I call Wills, the men will kill us both. One of us should live.
“Would that your hands burn with the strength of your evil!”

In the next moment, the men began to scream in pain. Their blades fell from their blistering fingers, and the smell of burning flesh filled the air.

“It’s a demon!”

Blubbering like children, the four bandits ran—their faces twisted with fear and agony. Samantha crouched with her hands over her ears in a fruitless effort to block out the sound of their screams. Eventually silence came, punctuated only by the staccato pounding of her heart.
I burnt those men! How is that possible?

When she finally lowered her hands, she heard Wills calling her name.
If he knows what I did, he’ll think me a monster!
Clutching her pack, she stumbled over the remnants of melted steel—the only thing left of her assailants’ weapons.

The furrow of worry that creased Wills’ brow relaxed when Samantha came into view. “There you are! You weren’t in the tavern, and when I heard screaming, I thought the worst.”

“I-I went looking for you.”

“Elturon is no place to sightsee! I thought you understood that.”

“Yes, I’m sorry.”

His irritation was evident. “You should have waited for me, like I asked.”

“I couldn’t. I saw those highwaymen who tried to rob us before, and I left the tavern before they noticed me.”

Wills suddenly grabbed her by the shoulders and peered at her throat. “You’re bleeding!”

A forced laugh. “Am I? I must’ve brushed up against a bramble bush in my haste to find you. It’s nothing, really.”

His eyes narrowed. “You’re not telling me everything.”

“Of course I am.”

“I warn you, if I learn otherwise, we’re abandoning this quest.”

“There’s nothing to tell.” A dark cloud passed overhead, blotting out the sun. “If you’re ready, let’s get started. Perhaps we can reach the first lookout before it rains.”

At the base of the cliff, Samantha and Wills gaped at the seemingly endless flight of roughly hewn stone stairs carved into the rock face. A low-hanging bank of fog obscured the stairs after a hundred yards or so, but the compass indicated they were on the right path.

Wills swept his arm out in flourished invitation. “After you.”

Immersed in her own thoughts and propelled by adrenaline, Samantha climbed for almost half an hour before she noticed Wills lagging behind.

“Are you all right?”

He waved her on. “My pack is rather heavy, so I’m taking it slow.”

Unable to stand still for more than a few moments, Samantha kept moving. It was as if she were trying to put distance between her and what had happened in Elturon. Guilt and fear swirled around her, thicker than the surrounding fog.
I cursed those men somehow.
It may have been inadvertent and unwitting, but she’d done it all the same. And by not telling Wills, she’d already broken her promise not to lie to him.
Am I truly wicked? Perhaps something about the Uncharted Region has brought out the worst in me. What if I can’t control myself and I hurt Wills?

Another forty-five minutes passed before Samantha realized she couldn’t see Wills anymore. The fog had grown so dense, she wasn’t even sure how far she’d climbed. Beads of perspiration were rolling down her back at regular intervals, and the muscles in her legs strained with fatigue. A light rain was falling, and her pack grew ever more burdensome with every step.
If my pack is this heavy, how must Wills be managing with his?

The first lookout was farther away than Samantha could have ever anticipated, but its appearance was blessedly welcome. With pillars fashioned of stone, the simple square structure was no larger than six feet across. A thatched roof protected travelers from the elements, a small fire pit was carved out in the center, and a low wall enclosed the space. While waiting for Wills to join her, Samantha gathered together loose twigs, leaves, and pinecones from the surrounding terrain to burn for warmth. Although she searched her pack thoroughly for the flint and steel fire starting kit, the set was missing.
Blast it! Wills must have the fire starter with him.

A thunderclap sounded overhead, heralding the arrival of frigid rain and sleet. Worried about Wills, Samantha paced back and forth.
What could be taking him so long? I shouldn’t have left his side.
When the prince arrived, he was shivering and his lips were tinged blue. His pack thudded to the ground before he collapsed in a heap and passed out.

Chapter Five

Like a Kiss

H
IS
H
ANDS
W
ERE
F
RIGHTENINGLY
C
OLD
to the touch, and his teeth were chattering. Samantha covered him with the thick blanket from her pack, and reached into his pack to locate a second one. To her shock, she discovered the pack was nearly immobile.
Wills carried all the heaviest things up the mountain by himself!
After she spread the second blanket over him, she rummaged through his pack until she found the fire starting kit. Striking steel to flint, she managed to create sparks. But the twigs failed to ignite because they were too moist.

The spring squall was increasing in intensity, and the temperature on the mountain was falling rapidly. Frequent thunderclaps frayed her nerves and Samantha became frantic. She kept striking the flint, hoping some sparks would catch hold, but gusts of wind foiled her efforts each time.

“Burn!” she cried. “Just
burn
.”

The fire pit suddenly burst into flames, creating the heat that Wills so desperately needed to survive. She dragged him closer to the robust warmth, crawled underneath the blankets, and wrapped him in her arms. After a short while, his shaking slowed—and then stopped. To her relief, his breath came in the regular pattern of a deep sleep. She propped herself up on her elbow and smoothed his hair back from his face.

“You’re a good man, Prince Wills,” she murmured, even though she knew he couldn’t hear her words. “You’ll make a fine king someday…if you survive this misadventure.”

She made a pillow from her pack, and turned to watch the storm raging outside. The maelstrom seemed to mimic the guilt and confusion raging within her.
It’s because of me that Wills collapsed. If I’d been honest with him in Elturon, he wouldn’t have attempted this climb. Is my need to see my brother worth Wills’ life?
I’ll tell him the truth when he wakes and let him decide whether he wants to continue. Even if he reviles me, I owe him that much.

Awakened by a crack of thunder, Wills opened his eyes. He vaguely remembered reaching the lookout, but nothing thereafter.
I must have passed out.
Rain and sleet continued to pour down from the stormy sky, but the heat of the blazing fire kept the chill away. In addition, he felt a warm body at his back. He turned to discover Samantha nestled against him under the blankets, sleeping. Although his muscles were otherwise logy and stiff, the sensation of her nearness was remarkably pleasant.

While she slept, he took the opportunity to strip off his clammy clothes and change into dry trousers and a tunic. His muscles were screaming with pain, but he knew the discomfort would lessen when he began climbing again.
As long as this storm continues, however, we’re forced to remain here.
A glance at Samantha brought a smile to his lips. In slumber, the tempestuous beauty had been transformed into a gentle lamb.
What would it be like to wake up next to her every day?
Startled, he shook his head.
Why did I think such a thing?
I must be daft.

He crouched next to his pack and pulled out some biscuits, salted meat, and a pan to heat the food over the fire. While he worked, he stole glances at the sleeping princess. Perhaps the notion of marriage to her wasn’t so terribly farfetched. Admittedly, Samantha was far more interesting than any other woman he’d ever met…if only he could convince himself she was trustworthy. The scratch on her throat looked more like a cut than a scratch, and he hadn’t noticed any bramble bushes anywhere in Elturon. What had transpired in his absence that required dissembling on her part?

She stirred and her eyes opened. “You’re up! Are you feeling all right?”