CHAPTER NINETEEN
Aramis and Mel ran along the worn path, weaving among the trees. Aramis kept one hand clutched against the wineskin of blood at his waist to ensure it didn’t come loose.
“We’ve got to hurry,” Mel huffed.
“I’m moving as fast as I can,” Aramis replied. His lungs and his legs were burning. The fact they hadn’t eaten anything wasn’t helping either. He could feel the dry blood from his wrists on his palms and fingers. “I’m afraid we aren’t going to make it,” he said. “It’s too far.”
“We have to try,” Mel answered.
Aramis thought he could faintly hear hoof beats behind them. “They’ve noticed our escape. We can’t outrun horses. We’ve got to find some place to hide.”
“I agree, my Prince. But I don’t see anywhere worthy of being called a hiding spot here in the trees.”
Arami
