Edited: 1/17/2025

Once they'd reached the fields, the chase was officially underway. A dozen horsemen, clad in charcoal-colored armor, were around two dozen paces behind Briar and Caspian. Their own horses snorted and sneered, saliva dripping from their mouths as their manes whipped in the wind. Destrier and Chace showed more stamina, for they were selected for royalty and had unmatching endurance.

Likely for this very purpose, Briar surmised darkly. Lucky us.

The siblings had galloped alongside the Great River for several hours, the calvary hot on their trail, until the woods appeared in the distance. Briar's body moved naturally with each rhythmic swing of Chace's gate. She reached for her father's compass around her neck, seeing that the arrow pointed north, while the woods set in front of her were northeast. They had arrived at Beaver's Crossing.

"Into those woods!" Caspian shouted behind her, his voice carrying over the torrents of wind. "I will see you there!"

Right. Briar gripped the leather reins tighter. She squeezed her thighs against the saddle, the wind billowing her cloak behind her as they tore through the tall grasses. The grass rippled over the valley in waves, giving it movement as if something was breathing life into it. The moon turned the hills into a soft, shining gray, and felt smooth and ticklish against her ankles.

As Chace beelined towards the trees, Briar formulated a message in her mind. She imagined binding a tether between her and Caspian, like a rope on each of their wrists.

I'll lose them in the woods and meet you at the Ford, she tugged on the connection.

A golden warmth spread through the tether and glowed against her mind. I'll be there, his words floated into her mind. They had formed on their own, evoked in the girl's mind without being prompted. It was as if someone else had written into the pages of her mind. The image of words had fabricated itself from the thoughts of her brother.

Briar steered Chace towards the woods. They loomed out in the distance, growing closer with every gallop. The trees shivered together in the wind, branches of broad, clustered leaves swaying and bending against the thick trunks of wood. Overhead, an inky blue panned the sky, washing out the stars. A stormfront was on its way.

A giddiness still washed over Briar. She was out of Miraz's castle. She was free of the stony, rock prison. Now, all she had to do was lose the calvary.

Glancing behind, the calvary of 12 began shouting to each other. Briar spotted a special helmet at the front, carved, and shaped differently from the others. It was General Glozelle, shouting orders to his men. Seven of them continued to run, hot on Caspian's trail, while five broke off in her direction. Scanning them, she noted Glozelle had gone after Caspian; she only had horsemen to deal with.

Within moments, they burst into the woods. It was like entering a whole, other world. The only sounds were that of the foliage crunching beneath Chace's hooves, and the voices far behind. The trees blocked the wind, so much so that it felt like cotton had been stuffed in Briar's ears, her hearing muffled so that only her eyes took in the vast, endless forest in front of them.

Moonlight glistened like stars on the water as the river approached. Beaver's Crossing. The river foamed and bubbled, talking to itself. Upon arriving, Briar saw that it was relatively shallow. She glanced back while Chace slowly plowed through.

The riders were gaining.

An arrow whistled over her head. Her heart lurched into her throat, the arrow striking a branch above her.

It didn't seem like she would lose them. After all, they had more experience giving chase, and being outside of the castle. The only other option was to fire back.

You've got to take them down, her instinct urged. They won't stop just because you're afraid to shoot.

Right. Gripping the reins in one hand, Briar reached underneath her heavy cloak and took out her crossbow. Instructions from Lydia and Caspian alike buzzed through her. As she took an arrow out from the quiver along her hip, Briar tried to recall as many of their lessons as possible.

Breathe, and hold steady. The arrow is just an extension of your sight. Where you look, it will follow.

That had been more or less true, considering how Briar had completely missed the target. Granted, she was only ten at the time. Hopefully she'd gotten better since.

She drew back the string, latching it in place before loading the bolt into the barrel. Her hips swung with Chace's gate as she fumbled to put the drawstring in place. Lifting the crossbow, Briar turned herself sideways, angling the mare slightly to the right to help her angle.

They broke out of the river just as the riders arrived to it. Around her, the world was quiet, waiting. The rustling of leaves underfoot and the whispering of wind were the only notions of life, white noise to her as she concentrated. Briar relaxed, letting the crossbow float in her arms as her eyes aligned to the target.

Closer.

Closer...

Flicking the trigger, she fired. The bolt sliced through the air, silent as a mouse, before a faint, sharp whap! met her ears. Briar's eyes widened as one of the horsemen let out a yell of pain and surprise, before dropping off his steed. The horse swerved, squealing in distress.

"Sorry, horsey," she muttered, reloading.

Vile acid coating her tongue as each of the riders were downed. Soon, there was only one horseman left. Even at a decent distance, Briar could still see the uncertainty in his expression.

Something inside of her twitched. Her whole body was buzzing with adrenaline, fear, regret, exhilaration. Briar felt alive, more alive than she'd ever felt, but remorse tugged at her heart. She didn't want to hurt anyone, but the world wouldn't accept those terms without ending things altogether.

But this man, she could see it. He didn't want to hurt anyone, either.

She made up her mind and pulled the reins. Chace skidded to a stop, tossing her head and snorting loudly. Briar turned about, lowering her crossbow to her lap.

The man slowed his horse to a stop. The horse foamed at the mouth, whinnying, as he shakily reached for his own weapon.

"Stop," Briar commanded.

He froze.

"You don't want this, either," Briar said, watching his figure tense in the moonlight. "I can see it in your eyes."

The horseman's eyes narrowed. Having stopped, the details of his face were clear. He had a young face with sharp features, and his armor told the girl that he was a squire. He couldn't be much older than Briar.

The boy's dark eyes flickered cautiously as she held out the crossbow, putting his hands atop his own. Although, she noted that his stance was like that of a rabbit; he was ready to spring at any moment.

"What's your name?" she prompted.

"Why should I trust you?" he asked, voice taut.

Briar sighed. She lazily chucked the crossbow into one of the bushes. "There."

"Calix," he replied, looking confused at the gesture.

"Alright then, listen, Calix," Briar leaned forward in her saddle, "you have no idea what's going on, okay? Don't make this worse for me; I have enough going on as it is. I have to run away so that I don't get betrothed to some stupid prince. Do you think I want to go live like a vagabond the rest of my life? Live in the dirt? Does that sound fun to you?"

The boy's eyebrows slammed together. "Wait," he slowly rose straighter in his saddle, soothing his steed, "did you not hear?"

"Hear what, exactly?"

"The news. Before the celebration, Lord Miraz announced your engagement to Prince Hondor along with that of his newborn heir."

The announcement. Briar had completely forgotten. Glozelle had mentioned an announcement. It was an announcement of her engagement.

The air suddenly left her lungs. Her stomach shivered, and Briar had to grab the horn of her saddle as the world spun beneath her. Everything unfocused in her vision into a blurry haze, her eyes searching the ground blindly for answers.

"Wh-what? He what?" she sputtered, fingers sinking into the hard, dry leather. "He can't. Miraz can't."

"He has, my Lady," a note of sympathy sweetened Calix's tone, and he offered her a sad smile. "You're right; I don't understand. Telmar has always been fickle to its royalty."

"Okay, so you have to let me go," Briar's voice wavered as it grew louder, her teeth set on edge. She fisted the reins so tightly that the leather imprinted on her palms, gathering her wild breathing until she could speak clearly.

"I will not let myself be controlled by him any longer," she said, sitting up straighter. "I'm done."

There was a beat of silence.

Finally, Calix sighed, shifting in his seat. "Okay, I'll go."

A weight lifted itself from Briar's shoulders. In the last day, so much had happened. Invisible shackles had wrapped themselves around her, pulling her down and tossing her about, but it felt lighter.

She smiled. From the way Cai and Chace started to move, they had both sensed that it was time to move. Briar steered Chace towards the deeper end of the forest.

"Thank you," she called, glancing back to see Calix had turned his horse as well. "I won't forget this."

Briar hoped that he was able to sense the gratitude swelling in her heart before she took off into the forest.

* * *

Briar rode through the night, glistening like an arrow through the woods along the winding Telmar River. Eventually, she knew it would lead to the fork where it conjoined with the Great River. She didn't know exactly how long of a ride it would be, granted she never really studied maps, but if the ford near Beruna was only two days' journey, it meant she had a little more than a day and a half left to journey.

When the mist of the waking sun started to rise, she found a magnificent, but fallen tree with a carving in it large enough for her to fit. It was hidden by the bank of the Telmar River, enclosed within a tangle of fallen branches and moss-covered stone. To be entirely wise, at least to the best of Briar's ability, she tied Chace tightly closer to the edge of the river, away from where she was.

She had fallen asleep wrapped tightly in her cloak, pressed against the bark. The deep, blueish gray haze of her cloak blended into the foliage so that once she pulled up her hood, she had merged into the forest itself. Briar rested her crossbow inches from her grasp and stared out at the world.

Everything was silent, but the forest was not asleep. The leaves and branches whispered to each other, carrying messages in ripples across what was likely miles and miles of wood. The dim glow of the moon shone down on what was a living, breathing land that embraced the night like a second mother.

How could the sound of the forest be so calming and yet so off-putting?

Every crack of a twig, every shutter of a hawthorn bush, made Briar's worry skyrocket. Calix had seemed like he would leave her alone...but what of Caspian? How far had he gone? Did the horsemen shoot at him, too? They must've - after all, they wanted Briar alive and they had still opened fire. Had Caspian found somewhere to hide during the day as she did, or would he and Destrier run themselves into the ground? Were they okay?

Questions ran aghast like a tornado through her head. Briar wrapped her arms around her knees and found comfort in the small, narrow form of her knife. It was still hidden in her draping sleeves, as always.

Her thoughts shifted one last time. She was engaged to Prince Hondor, which meant it had started as a betrothal. How long had Briar been betrothed for? When she was twelve, Miraz had threatened to send her off to be married to the incredibly wimpy prince in Archenland. Granted, she hadn't seen him for a few years, but as far as she knew, Hondor was still the same scrawny, owl-eyed ginger with no manners.

He must've betrothed her in secret. That was the only idea that made sense. Briar wrung her hands together, warmth gathering under her blanket and blocking out the cold, night air. She officially had a fiancé. The one thing that she had dreaded her entire life, the one thing that was out of her control--and she hadn't been able to escape it.

Briar's mind slowed as the drunkenness of exhaustion settled in, garbling her fears and worries. She shivered in the trunk's crook, willing herself to breathe and attempt to calm down. It was difficult, considering how she and Caspian had narrowly avoided their demise, but eventually she fell into a heavy, black sleep.

WHAM!

Briar awoke to a boot ramming her head into the tree. Her eyes flew open. Throbbing pain exploded in her head. Panic whited her vision, electrifying her veins as though she'd been dunked in a bath of ice. She struggled, gasping. A thick fog of sleep smeared her train of thought as she was shoved flat on her stomach, her face hitting the ground.

Her scalp burned as a fist grabbed her hair, yanking her head up. Sputtering, Briar looked up through the dirt and filth to see, towering over her, the one figure she had run away from. The one person she thought would never be out here, in the woods. The one person that could look at her and make her feel the smallest she'd ever been.

It was Uncle Miraz.

A/N: AH!! CLIFFHANGER! Fr you guys, thank you SO MUCH for 150+ views! I'm so honored. This lengthy chapter was written almost all in one sitting. I kinda got a huge spurt of energy out of nowhere. I ended up having to split the whole chunk into two chapters because it was WAY too long. But I'm pretty pleased with this cliffhanger (sorry...)

See you Monday!