Two men down. Two men of...a dozen? I could barely count, for the mud splattering my face and the rain running rivulets down my skin. Two men they'd felled with arrows, whose horses had disappeared into the forest around us.

An arrow pinged off Callum's chainmail, tearing through his cloak then clattering to the churning mud below his horse's hooves. The riders behind were gaining, and there were more of them now. I wanted to hold out hope that it was Frederico's guards, but after my utter idiocy in sauntering into the inn without a moment's hesitation, I wasn't so sure. Callum had ordered his men to the fort, but perhaps Dulciana had laid a trap for him as well – a trap to ensure the exiled leader of the best trackers in all the world led her straight to her quarry, before he was silenced forever.

Callum roared and arched back in his saddle, a hand pressed to his now-bleeding throat. Shoved backward by his movement, I slid along the horse's rain-slicked flanks. I balanced precipitously – one jerk to the left, and I'd slide right off and risk being trampled. Trampled, and potentially delivered straight into the hands of salvation...or Dulciana's men.

I wrenched my neck to the side, squinting against the rain for a better view of our pursuers. Already, Callum was uttering a curse in Gallic. His hand groped along my back as he reached for the ropes binding me. Behind us, the hood of one of the riders fell away.

Dark hair billowed free from a braid. Salvation, then.

I threw the entirety of my weight to the left, heedless of the pain that exploded in my ribs. The world spun into a whirlwind of mud and pounding hooves that rose up to meet me. I tucked my legs in as best I could, trying to avoid being trampled by the men behind us.

"Seize him!" Callum bellowed, but his voice was far away.

A voice I could recognize anywhere – and would, for the rest of my life – screamed, "Don't let them get to the fort!"

Mud sprayed my face. The ground around me shook with hoofbeats, then a solid thump. Suddenly, the ropes burned against my wrists again, then fell away. Hands slid beneath my shoulders, hauling me upright, before they vanished. Beatriz screamed in pain.

I dashed the mud and rain from my eyes and the world went red with my rage. Beatriz was doubled over, clutching her arm. Her sword lay in the mud, next to an arrow. Swords clanged as three of Frederico's guards engaged three of Callum's riders. But three more of the Pretanians had reached for their bows and axes, circling us.

I seized Beatriz' sword and shoved it into her good hand as I dragged her to the cover of her horse.

"Do you have a bow, darling?" I asked, tracking the man who was loading another arrow into his bow, his eyes trained on her.

"Take it." She yanked it free with a wince and thrust it into my hands. I seized an arrow from the quiver at her back as Callum's men circled closer.

I picked off the archer first, sending his arrow sailing wide. But his arrow grazed Beatriz' horse, spooking it and ruining our cover. Beatriz lunged for the reins, but the horse threw its head, dancing away from us. Exposed on all sides now, she positioned herself at my back as I reached for another arrow. Without warning, right as I was drawing for my next shot, she slammed her back into mine and shoved us both out of the way as she blocked the downward axe-stroke from one of the charging riders. Beyond us, one of Frederico's guards fell with a cry and lay still in the mud.

"We need to mount up," I shouted over my shoulder, over the din of swordplay and battle cries.

"Just finish them," Beatriz managed. I didn't like the sound of the grimace in her voice. I glanced over my shoulder when she braced her back against mine again. Another of Callum's riders was upon us. She lifted her sword, but it quivered. She was injured and gritting her teeth against it.

But she was not in this alone. Not so long as I covered her back.

The world slowed. The thundering of my heart in my ears drowned out all the other noise as I yanked an arrow from her quiver, nocked it, pivoted, drew, and loosed. Before I could see it land, Beatriz threw herself at me. We tumbled sideways into the mud, just barely missing the Pretanian's warhorse's thrashing hooves. But its rider sagged in the saddle, an arrow in his head.

"You need to stop them from reaching the fort," Beatriz managed, scrabbling for her sword and shoving herself upright again. "Nisha can't take them by herself!"

"I'm not leaving you!" I shouted, firing another arrow at one of the men fighting the guards. It pinged uselessly from his chainmail.

"Thomas." Beatriz had seized my shoulder to tear my attention away from the men around us.

More men had joined to fight alongside Frederico's guards, but these were attired in peasant's clothes and barely a challenge for the Umberwood warriors. Nevertheless, Callum's men were outnumbered and, upon realizing it, two of them wheeled their horses and took off. Callum himself was nowhere to be seen.

"The fort," Beatriz repeated, wrenching my gaze away from the fighting around us. "Please, Thomas."

I caught her as she sagged, but she pushed away from me and lunged for her horse.

"You're hurt," I protested, seizing the reins before she could mount up. Her teeth were bared in a grimace as she leaned against the horse, her eyes pressed closed in pain.

"Beatriz," I persisted.

Strain glazed her features when she turned to me. There were a million things I wanted to say, a million thanks I wanted to give, a million questions I wanted to ask – how had she known? How had she come after me so quickly? – but before I could voice a single one, she seized my face with one muddy-fingered hand and kissed me. All around us, blades clashed and men shouted.

"Please," was all she said, before she shoved me away and thrust her sword out to block a blow that might've severed my head from my neck. A groan of pain escaped her as I yanked another arrow free and sent it towards the face of the man who was trying to tear her sword from her fingers. I missed, but he backed away with a hiss of pain as a streak of red bloomed along his cheek, where the tip of my arrow had grazed him.

I didn't wait this time. I seized the saddle, dug my foot into the stirrup, and threw my leg up and over her horse's back. Beatriz shoved a piece of hair from her face, leaving a streak of mud along her forehead, before she turned towards me.

"Get up," I said, thrusting my hand towards her. "We do this together or not at all."

I could see the protest simmering in her eyes, the taunt about how I'd just be getting in her way. In some other time, or some other place, she'd have folded her arms and demanded that I find my own horse. But surrounded by the wails of dying Ardalonians and the clang of their steel, she seized my hand and vaulted up in front of me. I didn't miss the hiss of pain that slid through her teeth.

"Left," Beatriz barked, thrusting her sword up to parry back one of Callum's men on the right. Sure enough, another was charging us from the left.

Nock. Draw. Aim. Fire. And again. But the warrior didn't stop.

"Bea–" I began, but I swallowed the rest of her name as I lurched backwards and was forced to seize her around the waist or fall off the rain-soaked horse.

She'd taken the reins and, with a nudge from her heel, our horse was off without any warning. The approaching warrior's blade whistled far too close for my liking. I pressed forward against her back as she leaned low, over the horse's mane. We darted between the few remaining men and off, down the road after Nisha and the fleeing men.

"Followers," Beatriz managed, her teeth still set in a grimace. The knowledge that she was hurt clanged through my mind, pushing out all other thoughts. But she was right, we needed to watch for followers.

Sure enough, behind us, two of Callum's men were giving pursuit. I'd turned around just in time to see that one had drawn his bow. I threw my weight to the right and dragged Beatriz with me. An arrow whistled past my ear.

"Not my good ear," I muttered with vengeance as I drew another of Beatriz' arrows.

Nock. Draw. Aim. Fire.

Despite the rock and sway of the horse beneath me, this arrow sailed home. Only one man pursued us now.

The darkness around us suddenly melted away. The trees had ended and we'd emerged into a field. The arrow I'd aimed sailed harmlessly wide as our pursuer cut hard to the side. With an oath, I drew another of Beatriz' arrows and tried not to whack her over the head with my bow as I pivoted around to my left. Callum's man had taken advantage of my right-handedness to cut out of my range and buy himself time to nock another arrow.

I nearly lost my seat as Beatriz steered us hard to the side as well, out of the path of the incoming arrow. But she kept going, charging directly for him, and Callum's warrior abandoned his bow in favour of his sword as Beatriz raised hers. He ducked my arrow and met Beatriz' blade. I'd been too distracted with my archery to notice that she'd pulled her legs up beneath her. Callum's man seemed just as surprised as I was when she leaped from our horse to his. Her shoulder met his chest and the pair of them tumbled over into the mud.

I fumbled for the reins and wheeled my horse around, my heart in my throat.

"The fort!" Beatriz screamed, before the clang of steel on steel rang out across the field.

I should have listened. The logical part of me knew that. But I couldn't leave her. Not when she'd been grimacing in pain before. Not when she was injured and facing someone nearly twice her size. I wheeled the horse around, my arrows useless unless I wanted to risk hitting her as she danced around him. I had no sword, I had nothing. Nothing but the big beast beneath me.

An idea formed, desperate and half-thought out.

"Clear the way!" I shouted in Ardal, hoping Callum's man didn't speak the language, and set the horse to charge again.

But Beatriz didn't move. She didn't disengage. She kept her blade moving. She only glanced over at me for the barest of moments.

I was going to trample her. I was going to trample her and the Umberwood brute unless I reined in, fast.

My fingers slipped on the reins. The horse didn't stop. My heart leaped into my throat and strangled my shout of warning. I was going to trample her. I yanked back, hard, but we were too close now.

At the last possible moment, Beatriz dove. Hooves clattered against chainmail as the horse trampled Callum's warrior. The horse skidded to a stop in the mud and, again, I barely held my seat as it reared in protest.

"Go!" Beatriz screamed, from where she was little more than a lump in the dirt.

I looked at her, then I looked towards where she'd thrust her sword.

Beyond the field, a great, dark shape loomed up. Torches speckled its walls and a great gate lay yawning open, bleeding firelight onto the grass beyond. The fort.

A scream of pain – a decidedly female one – echoed across the field.

"Get back up! I'm not–" I shouted, wheeling the horse around.

"I can't. Just go!"

Cold slithered down my spine. As much as I hated doing it, I turned my back on her. I had to. If Callum or one of his men reached the fort, they'd send up the alert and the entirety of Dulciana's garrisoned troops would come pouring out. With both Nisha and Beatriz already injured from their ridiculous duel earlier, we stood no chance.

As I drew closer, my horse's hooves thundering beneath me, I made out four shapes that soon became three. Nisha's hair whipped out behind her in the wind as she did the same as Beatriz and leaped from her horse, past the glittering torchlight, onto one of the Umberwood men's horses. But beyond her, ahead of the others, Callum Winters galloped for the fort.

Nisha cried out again and my eyes darted to the other rider, his bow drawn as he raced alongside his ally, the one Nisha was pummelling as she attempted to knock him from his horse. Torchlight from the fort glittered on a pair of interlocked blades, before they both went sailing into the dark. The rider seized Nisha with one gauntleted hand and tried to throw her from the horse. She wrapped her legs around him and held on, her hands going straight to his eyes.

The archer shouted something in Gallic and, with both hands now, the man holding Nisha lifted her so her entire back was exposed to the archer.

Beyond them, Callum was almost at the fort.

There was no time to think. No time to debate the merits of where my arrow was best placed. I only had time to nock, draw, aim, loose. And hope I'd chosen wisely.

The archer's shoulder jerked to the side and he tumbled from his horse, disappearing into the darkness right as Nisha gathered her legs beneath her and kicked. Her attacker's head snapped backwards and he went limp. She barely managed to seize the saddle, but hauled herself up and shoved him off with one efficient movement.

She didn't stop. She didn't turn to acknowledge me, or the shot I'd used to save her life rather than slow Callum. She simply kept riding in pursuit of him. I'd drawn and nocked another arrow, pushing Beatriz' horse to bring me within range. I needed to be closer, just a little closer–

A great, shuddering horn blared through the night, slicing through the rain-pattered silence.

I loosed my arrow. Callum jerked to the side, but kept riding. All the way through the fort gates. Torches bobbed along the ramparts. Ahead of me, Nisha reined in her horse.

"Turn around!" she shrieked, upon seeing that I hadn't immediately done the same.

Atop the gate, a massive signal fire flared to life as the horn sounded again. Reinforcements. The fort was calling for reinforcements. The gate that Callum had ridden through hadn't clanged shut, as I'd expected. Instead, more torches bobbed in the courtyard just beyond it.

And there, they illuminated dozens of horses with dozens of riders scrambling to mount up.

"Where's Beatriz?" Nisha screamed, as she sailed past me in retreat.

My blood turned to ice. In the darkness, we'd never find her. We'd never have the time to look, with the men mounting up behind us. I wheeled my horse around, my heart in my throat, and thundered after Nisha. I strained my eyes in the darkness, trying to spot her, trying to figure out where I'd left her.

Abruptly, Nisha cut to the left. I followed without hesitation, unsure of what she was following. Then, in the blink of an eye, a spark lit the night from the middle of the field. A spark, like that of metal scraped against metal, too quickly extinguished by the rain. Nisha raced towards it, but did not slow. I could barely make out the silhouette of her hand as she shot it out.

But relief had me sagging in the saddle as she yanked a dark shape up behind her. It was short lived, though, as the horn wailed out again, punctuated by the hoofbeats of all the horses I'd seen milling in the courtyard.

I sent up a swift prayer, hoping that we still had some luck left as I followed Nisha and Beatriz into the night.

**A/N: I didn't want to be evil and split this one in two, even though it is almost double my usual chapter length. But I couldn't leave you hanging, not when the pressure's on now!

Do you think they'll manage to escape?

What do you think Callum will do, now that he's safe in Dulciana's fort?

Finally, thanks to all your lovely feedback about what content you'd like to see on an author website, I'm working on a few posts so I'm curious which you'd all want to read about first:

- Writing tips (sources of inspiration, tips to develop characters, etc)

- The Rebel Prince chapter previews

- The Season character backstories (I'm thinking short stories about characters like Genevieve/Frederico meeting in Vareinne, Nisha/Beatriz in Bazera, Xavier and Georgina's arc during The Debutante, etc)

As always, if you enjoyed it, please take a moment to vote and comment :) **