Chapter 154: You Dare Steal My Horse!
The two of them tore through the streets, one pursuing and one fleeing, overturning countless stalls along the way. Fortunately, less than a hundred meters into the chase, they hit the broad expanse of the main thoroughfare.
"Close the gates!" Arthur bellowed.
Unfortunately, the opening and closing of city gates are a cornerstone of urban defense; they weren't about to be operated at the whim of a shouting outsider. Under the watchful eyes of the city guards, the assassin and Arthur shot through the gates in quick succession, hoofprints nearly overlapping as they vanished into the outskirts in a cloud of dust.
The moment they cleared the city, the assassin yanked his horse off the main road, heading straight for the rolling hills where the spring grass was just beginning to turn green.
Hmph. You're asking for it, Arthur thought with a cold sneer.
This terrain was riddled with rabbit holes and badger dens. For the assassin to ride into such a place meant he was either backed into a corner or had scouted a safe path beforehand. Regardless, Arthur only needed to stay glued to his tail—the assassin's riding was visibly amateur, and with a frame built like a bear, he would surely exhaust his mount's stamina long before Arthur's.
However, after chasing with full confidence for a stretch, Arthur realized with a start that the gap between them wasn't shrinking; it was widening.
"Come on! We're almost there!" Arthur patted the horse's neck, trying to urge it on, only to find his palm drenched in a thick, lathered sweat.
He was jolted by the realization that the mare had hit her absolute limit. Pushing her further was pointless; it would only result in the animal dropping dead. Helplessly, he loosened the reins and let the horse slow to a stop.
Arthur scrambled up a nearby tree, watching as the assassin's silhouette rounded a far hill and vanished completely.
A formidable character, to escape even under these conditions.
Arthur led the horse back slowly on foot, a dark cloud settling over his mind. On the surface, this failure was due to the horse's lack of stamina, but the truth was that the assassin's extraordinary capabilities had accounted for more than half of it. From the rooftop chase to the mid-street horsejacking to the frantic gallop—if the assassin had been even two or three seconds slower in any one of those links, he would have been caught.
"Who the hell are you?" Arthur scratched his head, feeling a restless itch under his skin.
He'd had a few days of luxury in Cintra without encountering any real crisis, and he had almost fooled himself into thinking the world was at peace. Then, in the blink of an eye, someone tries to assassinate the King.
Who could be so maddeningly bold?
First, he could rule out the Verdeners. If those lot were even half as professional as this assassin, they wouldn't have botched the attempt to silence him at Rombach. Second, he could rule out Corve. With Corve's vast influence, he would know that Eist was largely a figurehead; the real power sat with Calanthe.
"To hell with it. Someone else was the target, not me. Let the professionals lose sleep over it."
With the city gates in sight and still no clue as to the mastermind's identity, Arthur tossed the matter aside. He hadn't even dealt with Corve yet; he had no energy to waste on someone else's conspiracies.
Besides, he had a more immediate headache waiting for him—the city gate was currently blocked by a troop of knights in brilliant surcoats.
In the center of the knights stood the girl he had robbed. She was currently enduring a lecture from an older knight, her head hanging low. The moment she spotted Arthur leading the horse back, she practically leaped into the air.
"That's him! He's the one who stole Invincible!"
Rumble—
The sound of a dozen knights spurred into motion was like a rolling thunderclap across the earth. In an instant, Arthur was surrounded.
"Horse thief! You actually had the nerve to come back!"
The girl was the last to arrive. Her mount had been replaced by a small pony—it had a beautiful mane, but it clearly couldn't keep up with the chargers.
"I told you I would bring him back to you."
Arthur remained composed as he handed the reins to the knight directly in front of him. "Someone attempted to assassinate the King just now. The assassin was fast, and the urgency of the situation forced me to commandeer this lady's mount."
"And the assassin?"
The middle-aged man who had been reprimanding the girl asked the question. Arthur noticed the coat of arms on the man's breastplate: a shield bearing a double-headed eagle. This was Sir Ervin the Younger, son of the venerable Old Sir Ervin.
Arthur didn't give a direct answer, instead offering a look of practiced mystery. "How might I compensate your daughter for the fright and the loss she incurred during this incident?"
Sir Ervin leaned forward gracefully in his saddle, offering a slight bow. "You risked your life and labored for the sake of public safety. How could I find it in my heart to criticize you? On the contrary, I am planning to host a salon for some friends soon. If you would grace us with your presence, I would consider it a great honor for my house."
"I shall be there on time," Arthur replied. Internally, he sighed; it was clear the man intended to trade this grievance for a future favor.
Just as the situation seemed to be following the script of a peaceful resolution, the young girl suddenly shrieked.
"Invincible! Invincible, what's wrong with you?!"
The men turned together. The mare, which had been standing a moment ago, was now on her knees, her four legs trembling violently. Her nostrils flared weakly, puffing out hot, ragged air, and the sweat dripping from her coat had already pooled into a dark puddle on the ground.
"Father, what's happening to Invincible? Please, make them save him!" The girl sprinted between them, clutching Sir Ervin's leg and looking up with a tearful, pleading face.
"It's grim," one of the knights said, shaking his head. "Exhausted to such a degree... it's unlikely he can be brought back."
Sir Ervin felt the mare's neck, then let out a heavy sigh as he drew the sword from his hip. "Move aside, Leah. Invincible is beyond saving. Don't let him suffer needlessly."
The girl froze for a heartbeat before breaking into a loud wail, throwing herself in front of the horse. "I don't care, I don't care! I want Invincible to live!"
Hiss...
Watching the farce escalate, Arthur felt a twinge of guilt, but also a rising sense of wariness. Was this entire dramatic display over a horse a setup for some further demand?
He reached out through the mental link to the Treant: [How do you treat a horse that has collapsed from exhaustion?]
A moment later, Groot sent back a torrent of information, covering everything from biological principles to practical application—the wisdom of a five-hundred-year-old tree-warden was truly comprehensive.
"Pull her away. A member of House Ervin does not wail over losses already sustained." Seeing Leah's relentless crying, Sir Ervin's face darkened, his voice laced with a cold edge of anger.
"Wait a moment. I happen to know a few methods for treating horses. Why not let me try?"
Arthur spoke of "trying," but he was already unceremoniously nudging the bickering pair aside. He raised his hand, manifesting a steady stream of conjured water to wash over the mare's back, lowering her body temperature. Several Mage Hands appeared simultaneously to begin a rhythmic massage of the animal's muscles.
He turned his head and barked at the knights: "Do any of you have sugar? Mix it with water and bring it here to be administered immediately!"