Chapter 4: The Bandits Close In
Crownlands / Kingswood / Morning
The sun's first light filtered through the thick canopy of the Kingswood, casting long fingers of soft, golden light over the forest floor. The coals from the fire still smoldered, glowing faintly against the morning chill. Lucan stood a short distance away, leaning against a tree with his sword resting on his shoulder. His eyes scanned the forest, ever vigilant, the weight of the previous night's kiss still lingering in his thoughts.
He hadn't slept. Not a wink. Not because of the lurking danger, but because every time he closed his eyes, he felt her lips again, tasted the sweetness of her kiss, and the warmth of her pressed against him. He was drowning in the memory of it, torn between the desire that pulled at him and the reality of their situation.
A soft rustle behind him broke the silence, and Lucan turned to see Alys stirring. She stretched beneath her blanket, her eyes fluttering open as she greeted the morning. For a brief moment, her face was peaceful, as if the kiss had banished the dangers and burdens of the day to come. But the moment faded, and the weight of their circumstances returned, settling over them like a heavy cloak.
Alys pushed herself up, rubbing her eyes before her gaze landed on Lucan. "You didn't sleep," she observed quietly, her voice still soft from sleep.
Lucan shrugged. "Someone had to keep watch." He kept his tone light, though the tension between them was unmistakable.
Alys shifted, glancing down at her dirt-streaked gown, wrinkled from the night's rest. She sighed, brushing her fingers over the fabric. "This dress... I can't keep moving like this. It's too heavy."
Lucan nodded, eyes scanning her attire. "You'll need something more practical if we're to continue through the forest." He hesitated before reaching into his saddlebag, pulling out a pair of woolen trousers and a simple tunic. "Here, these should fit well enough."
Alys took the clothes, her fingers brushing his for a fleeting second, igniting the memory of their kiss once more. She looked at the garments and then back to Lucan with a wry smile. "Woolen trousers and a tunic... very queenly."
He chuckled softly. "It's not exactly royal attire, but it'll do for now."
Alys stood and eyed the forest around them, her hands tightening on the bundle of clothes. After a pause, she glanced back at Lucan, her cheeks flushed slightly. "Turn around," she said, her voice carrying a mix of command and shyness.
Lucan raised an eyebrow but nodded, turning his back to her. He crossed his arms, his posture stiff as he tried to ignore the sound of her shifting behind him. The rustling of fabric reached his ears as Alys began to undress, and though he knew he shouldn't, his curiosity got the better of him. He glanced over his shoulder, just for a split second—just to make sure she was safe, he told himself.
But that brief glance was enough.
His breath hitched as he caught a glimpse of her in the soft light of dawn. Alys stood with her back to him, her bare skin bathed in the golden morning glow. The curve of her side, the delicate line of her waist, and the subtle contours of her breast and hips—everything about her was breathtaking, an image so intimate that it hit Lucan like a blow to the chest. He quickly averted his gaze, heat rising to his face, his heart thundering in his ears.
The fleeting glimpse of her, though brief, burned into his mind, stirring something deep within him—something raw and unbidden. It clawed at his restraint, igniting a desire that he struggled to contain. But he forced it down, suppressing the hunger that threatened to consume him, knowing full well the danger of where it might lead.
In that brief moment, Alys caught Lucan's quick, almost startled glance at her exposed form. Instead of feeling embarrassed or vulnerable, she felt an unexpected flicker of satisfaction. There was something about the way his gaze lingered—just for a heartbeat—that made her feel seen in a way she hadn't before. She smiled silently to herself, a private secret, choosing not to say anything, not wanting to embarrass him or break the unspoken tension.
As she finished pulling on the woolen trousers and tunic, the soft fabric brushing against her skin, she glanced back at Lucan, who stood rigid, his back to her. "You can turn around now," she called softly, her voice steady, though her heart still fluttered from the charged moment they shared.
Lucan turned to face her again, clearing his throat in a futile attempt to regain his composure. Alys stood before him, the woolen trousers and tunic hanging loosely on her slender frame, her dark hair slightly disheveled from sleep. Yet, even in the ill-fitting clothes, there was something undeniably captivating about her. She possessed a natural grace, a quiet strength that made her even more striking in the morning light.
Without a word, Alys bent down and tore a strip of cloth from her discarded gown. With practiced ease, she cinched it around her waist to hold up the trousers, the makeshift belt drawing attention to the curves hidden beneath the borrowed clothing. Lucan couldn't help but admire her resourcefulness, but even more, the way she seemed so unshaken by the circumstances, adapting with a grace that intrigued him. He tried to seem nonchalant, but his gaze lingered a moment longer than he intended, the image of her still etched in his mind.
"Not exactly royal attire, but..." Alys said, echoing his earlier words with a soft smile.
Lucan smirked, though the intensity of his emotions simmered just below the surface. "You'll blend in better now. At least the bandits won't be looking for a queen dressed like that."
Alys met his gaze, and for a moment, the memory of their kiss hung between them, unspoken but palpable. Lucan tore his eyes away, busying himself with packing up their makeshift camp.
Crownlands / Kingswood / Morning
"We need to move quickly," he said, his voice more gruff than he intended. "The bandits will be searching for us, and we can't afford to stay in one place for too long."
Alys nodded, her expression sobering. As they packed up their belongings, the tension between them still lingered, a quiet current of something unspoken, something that both of them felt but neither dared to name. The day stretched before them, full of danger and uncertainty, but for now, they had each other. And for Lucan, that was both a blessing and a curse.
Lucan gave a small nod. "We've stayed too long. It's time to go." He rose, casting a glance around the forest, the tension tightening in his chest. Something felt off, a disturbance in the air, though he couldn't quite place it.
Alys moved with purpose, her movements now more assured, as if she had accepted the strange reality of her new attire and the precarious situation they were in.
Just as Lucan went to check Buck's saddle, a faint sound echoed through the trees. It was distant but unmistakable—the rhythmic pounding of hooves on earth, growing steadily louder with each passing moment. Lucan froze, his heart pounding in his chest as his sharp eyes scanned the edge of the woods.
The bandits.
"They've found us," Lucan muttered, his voice grim. He turned swiftly to Alys, who had stopped in her tracks, her face paling as she too heard the approaching hooves.
"Are you sure it's them?" she asked, her voice laced with fear.
Lucan didn't need to respond. The sound of men shouting—low and guttural—followed the hooves, confirming his worst fear. Harlan Greaves and the Blackbriar Bandits had caught their scent.
"We need to go. Now," Lucan said, his tone sharper than intended. He wasted no time, grabbing Buck's reins and pulling the horse toward Alys. In one fluid motion, he mounted the horse, then leaned down, extending a hand toward her. "Get on."
Alys hesitated only for a second before she grasped his arm, her slender fingers wrapping around his forearm as he hoisted her up behind him. She clung to him, her arms wrapping around his waist as Buck shifted beneath them, sensing the tension.
With a sharp kick, Lucan spurred Buck into action, the horse surging forward into the dense foliage of the forest. The trees rushed past them in a blur, and the sounds of the approaching bandits grew fainter as they pressed deeper into the wilderness.
Behind them, the faint sound of Harlan's voice drifted through the trees. "They're close! After them!" The bandits were relentless, their pursuit unyielding.
Lucan urged Buck faster, guiding the horse through the narrow paths and overgrown thickets, but the bandits were skilled trackers. He could feel Alys pressed against his back, her breath shallow with fear, her fingers gripping his sides tightly. He knew they couldn't outrun the bandits forever. They had to find a way to shake them off, or they'd be caught.
"Hold on!" Lucan called over his shoulder to Alys as they charged through the trees, Buck's hooves pounding against the earth. The tension between them was palpable, but Lucan couldn't afford to focus on anything other than getting them to safety. He gritted his teeth, his mind racing for a plan, his heart pounding as they fled deeper into the forest.
The Kingswood seemed endless, the shadows growing longer as the morning sun climbed higher, but Lucan knew every second counted. The bandits were closing in, and time was running out.
Crownlands / Kingswood / Midday
The sun climbed higher into the sky, its light filtering through the thick canopy of the Kingswood, dappling the ground with patches of golden light. The forest was dense, its wild underbrush and towering trees forming a natural maze, making every path ahead uncertain. Lucan held Buck's reins tightly, navigating the narrow, overgrown trails with a practiced eye. Behind him, Alys clung to his waist, her breathing steady but tense, her grip firm as they pushed deeper into the wilderness.
Lucan knew they had a slim advantage; the Blackbriar Bandits might have numbers, but they didn't have his knowledge of the Kingswood. Each turn, each dip in the land, brought them closer to evading their pursuers, though the sound of hooves crashing through the underbrush in the distance was a constant reminder that Harlan's men were still hot on their trail.
"They're relentless," Alys whispered, her voice strained but steady.
Lucan gave a grim nod, glancing over his shoulder. "They won't give up easily, but we've got the advantage in this terrain." He tightened his hold on the reins, urging Buck forward with a nudge of his heels. "We need to keep moving."
The terrain grew steeper as they rode deeper into the heart of the Kingswood. Fallen branches and thick roots snaked across the ground, threatening to trip Buck at any moment. Lucan steered the horse with care, his eyes darting between the path ahead and the dense thickets to either side. The forest was both their ally and their enemy—its hidden paths offering shelter, but its unforgiving landscape making escape perilous.
A sudden shout echoed through the trees behind them. Lucan's stomach clenched. The bandits were close, too close.
He pulled Buck to a stop beside a cluster of tall ferns, his mind racing. They couldn't outrun the bandits forever, but perhaps they didn't need to. "We'll lose them here," he muttered, more to himself than to Alys.
Alys peered over his shoulder, her eyes scanning the thick forest. "How?"
Lucan pointed toward a narrow ridge up ahead, half hidden by a dense wall of bushes. "The ridge leads to a ravine on the other side. It's narrow enough that they can't follow us all at once. If we can navigate it, we can throw them off."
Alys hesitated. "Are you sure it's safe?"
Lucan's lips quirked into a small, reassuring smile. "No. But it's our best chance."
Before she could respond, the sound of hooves grew louder, the unmistakable clang of metal and shouted orders filling the air. Lucan spurred Buck forward, heading straight for the ridge, the horse leaping over fallen logs and weaving through trees with practiced ease.
They reached the narrow path just as the first of Harlan's men came into view behind them. Lucan's heart pounded as he guided Buck onto the ridge, the steep drop to their left making every step feel like a calculated risk. Alys clung tighter to him, her fingers gripping his tunic as Buck picked his way carefully along the uneven trail.
From below, the bandits shouted in frustration. They couldn't follow in force—not without risking their horses on the narrow ridge. Lucan glanced down, catching sight of Harlan Greaves, his dark figure visible through the trees, barking orders at his men.
"Faster!" Lucan urged, pushing Buck onward. The ridge was treacherous, but it provided exactly what he needed—time to gain distance, to escape.
The path widened slightly as they reached the other side of the ravine. Lucan pulled Buck to a halt, looking back at the ridge as the bandits hesitated, unable to pursue without spreading themselves too thin. Harlan's curses carried on the wind, and Lucan allowed himself a small moment of satisfaction. They were far from out of danger, but for now, they had gained the upper hand.
Alys leaned into him, her breath warm against his ear. "That was… reckless."
Lucan smiled, turning his head slightly to catch her gaze. "Reckless works, sometimes."
She laughed softly, a brief moment of levity amidst the tension. But Lucan's mind was already turning to what lay ahead. They couldn't rest, not yet. The bandits wouldn't stop, and the Kingswood, though familiar, was still a dangerous place.
"We'll keep to the thickest parts of the forest," Lucan said, steering Buck off the main path and into the denser foliage. "If we keep moving, we can outlast them."
Alys nodded, though her face remained tight with worry. "Do you think they'll ever give up?"
Lucan's expression hardened. "Not until they have what they came for—or until they're dead."
The gravity of his words settled between them as they continued deeper into the forest, the sound of the bandits' pursuit fading into the distance. Lucan knew they weren't safe, not yet, but he also knew that with each mile they put between themselves and the Blackbriar Bandits, their chances of survival grew.
He had to keep her safe. No matter the cost.
As the midday sun hung high overhead, filtering through the leaves above, Lucan pressed on, determined to see them through this chase alive.
Crownlands / Kingswood / Midday
The midday sun pierced through the thick canopy of the Kingswood, casting fractured shadows along the forest floor. The air was thick, heavy with tension as Lucan urged Buck deeper into the dense underbrush. Alys clung tightly to him, her breath shallow with fear, her heart pounding in time with the hoofbeats.
But despite Lucan's careful navigation through the hidden paths of the forest, Harlan Greaves and his bandits had proven relentless. The sound of pursuit had not faded—if anything, it had grown louder. Lucan's sharp eyes caught movement through the trees, and his chest tightened.
They were closing in.
Suddenly, a flash of movement to the right. Harlan himself, his cruel eyes locked on Lucan and Alys as he signaled his men to fan out. The Blackbriar Bandits circled like wolves, their numbers too great for Lucan to outrun.
"Lucan," Alys whispered urgently, her voice trembling.
"I see them," he muttered, pulling Buck to a halt beside a thicket of dense brush. "Get down," he commanded, his voice firm.
Alys hesitated for a moment, her eyes wide with fear. But Lucan didn't give her a choice. He dismounted swiftly and helped her down, his hands steady despite the storm brewing in his chest.
"Stay hidden," Lucan ordered, his gaze locked onto hers. "No matter what happens, stay low and keep quiet."
Alys nodded, her fingers tightening briefly on his arm before she disappeared into the thicket, the leaves rustling softly around her. Lucan took a deep breath, his hand instinctively moving to the hilt of his sword.
The bandits closed in. Harlan Greaves, a menacing figure with a jagged scar running across his face, grinned as he stepped forward, his sword drawn.
"Well, well," Harlan sneered, his voice dripping with malice. "Looks like the game's up, hedge knight. You thought you could slip away, but the Kingswood's my hunting ground."
Lucan said nothing, his eyes narrowing as he assessed the situation. There were at least six bandits circling, each armed and eager for blood. He gripped his sword tightly, feeling the weight of the weapon in his hand, knowing the odds were stacked against him.
Harlan's grin widened. "Let's make this easy, boy. Hand over the girl, and I might just let you limp away from this."
Lucan's jaw clenched. "You'll have to come through me first."
Harlan's eyes gleamed with dark amusement. "So be it."
Without another word, the bandit leader lunged, his sword arcing through the air with deadly speed. Lucan barely had time to raise his own blade to block the strike, the force of it sending a shockwave through his arm. He spun on his heel, parrying another blow from one of Harlan's men, the clash of steel ringing through the forest.
Lucan moved with precision, his sword a blur as he fought off one bandit after another. But the numbers overwhelmed him quickly. A sharp pain shot through his side as a blade nicked his ribs, tearing through his leather jerkin. He gritted his teeth, pushing through the pain, his breath coming in ragged bursts as he slashed at the nearest attacker, sending him stumbling back.
"Too slow," Harlan taunted, stepping in with a powerful strike aimed at Lucan's chest. Lucan barely deflected the blow, but the force sent him staggering backward, his back colliding with the rough bark of a tree. Blood trickled down his side, staining his tunic, but he refused to let the pain slow him down.
Another bandit charged at him, swinging wildly. Lucan ducked and rolled, using the terrain to his advantage. His sword sliced through the air, catching the bandit in the leg and sending him crashing to the ground with a scream. But as Lucan rose to his feet, Harlan was there, his sword already descending.
Lucan barely blocked the blow in time, the clash of metal ringing out like a bell. His arms trembled under the force of Harlan's attack, and his injuries slowed him. He knew he couldn't keep this up much longer.
In the shadows, Alys watched in horror, her breath catching in her throat as she saw Lucan struggle against the bandits. Her heart raced, fear clawing at her as the chaos unfolded before her eyes.
"Stay down," Lucan's words echoed in her mind, but the urge to help him, to do something, was overwhelming.
Lucan parried another strike, but Harlan was relentless. The bandit leader grinned, sensing victory as Lucan's movements slowed. "You're out of your league, boy," Harlan spat, raising his sword for the killing blow.
But Lucan wasn't done yet.
With a burst of strength, he shoved Harlan back, his sword slicing through the air as he deflected another bandit's attack. Blood dripped from his side, and every breath felt like fire, but he pushed through, his focus narrowing to the fight in front of him.
Alys, hidden in the thicket, couldn't bear to watch anymore. Her heart pounded in her chest as she silently prayed for Lucan to pull through.
Harlan advanced again, but Lucan was ready. He ducked low, slashing upward with a desperate strike that caught the bandit leader off guard. Harlan stumbled, his sneer fading into a snarl of rage as he clutched at the fresh wound on his arm.
"Get him!" Harlan barked, sending the remaining bandits after Lucan.
Lucan fought with everything he had, but the exhaustion was taking its toll. His vision blurred, his muscles ached, and his sword felt heavier with each swing. One of the bandits managed to land a blow on his shoulder, and Lucan staggered, barely keeping his footing.
But just as the bandits closed in for the kill, a shout rang out from the distance.
"Move out! We've got more coming from the west!"
Harlan's head snapped toward the sound, his eyes narrowing. He cursed under his breath, but the sudden distraction was all Lucan needed. With one last effort, Lucan swung his sword in a wide arc, forcing the bandits back long enough to grab Buck's reins.
"Now!" Lucan shouted, his voice hoarse with exertion. "Alys, now!"
Alys didn't hesitate. She bolted from her hiding spot and leaped onto Buck's back behind Lucan. He spurred the horse forward, breaking through the remaining bandits as they scattered, unsure whether to pursue or heed Harlan's orders.
With Alys gripping tightly to him, Lucan pushed Buck into a full gallop, his heart pounding as they fled deeper into the forest, the sound of the bandits' curses fading behind them. They had escaped—barely—but Lucan knew the chase was far from over.