Ransom

"Get the rich brats off their horses and tie them up," the man ordered sharply.

"And their guards?"

"Do the same."

Osmund couldn't stop himself from continuing to weep, watching in horror as rough hands grabbed at his brothers, pulling them down beside him.

Suddenly, a loud crash rang out from deep within the forest, the sound echoing through the air. The assailants' attention snapped to where it had come from, looks of confusion spreading across their faces.

"The hell was that?" one asked.

"Just a falling tree," the leader snapped. "Now get back to work restraining them."

"Yes, sir," his men quickly stammered.

Osmund shuddered as he felt the coarse rope against him, biting painfully into his skin as it was wrapped around his wrists.

Once the princes had been properly restrained, they were shoved forward into a line. Bartram appeared to be on the verge of tears, his glasses shattered in the midst of the struggle. Avery held his head high, his mouth clamped shut and his eyes fixed ahead of him. Despite this, Osmund could see his shoulders trembling. Even the unreadable Roland and Radley looked terrified. The only one amongst them who seemed calm was Wheeler's advisor, his expression betraying nothing. Slowly, Osmund's gaze fell to the empty space beside him.

"Avery," Osmund whispered, his eyes widening in shock. "Where's Wheeler?"

Avery looked to the empty space as well, gaze darkening. "That sound earlier," he whispered back. "It must have been a distraction so he could escape."

Osmund perked up, ever so slightly. "Maybe he's getting help!"

"He's a magic user," Avery replied bitterly. "His only priority is saving his own skin."

"Now," the leader said, his expression smug as his gaze flickered across them. Luckily for Wheeler, there were so many blonde princes no one seemed to notice one was missing. "It seems it was our lucky day running into you boys." He reached forward, giving Osmund's cheek a sharp pinch, causing him to flinch back. "We've ambushed a good number of careless travelers over the years, but it's been a long time since I've seen this many wealthy, snot nosed brats in one place." He grinned, displaying an array of crooked yellow teeth. Bartram tried to look away, but the leader grabbed him by the chin, forcing him to meet his gaze. "I'm sure your daddy is going to pay a great sum to bring you back to him." He proceeded to move to Avery, slinging an arm around his shoulder, causing the prince to tense, gritting his teeth. "Well, let's at least hope he does. Because, if I don't receive a small fortune for your return, then..." He smiled thinly. "Perhaps I should just demonstrate?" He snapped his fingers. "Richard, come here."

A lanky man reluctantly shuffled forward, his dirt streaked face ashen. "Yes, sir?"

"Was it you that shot too early during the attack and nearly struck this valuable piece of human cargo?" As he spoke, he gestured to Osmund, causing the boy to cower back.

The man, Richard, lowered his head. "Sir, I--"

"ANSWER THE QUESTION!" the leader roared.

"Y-Yes, sir," Richard stammered, his voice trembling. "It was me."

The leader looked back to the princes now. "Well, I should at least put this imbecil to some kind of use, right?" The moment the words left his mouth, he removed his dagger, plunging it directly into Richard's chest.

A series of horrified cries erupted from the princes as Richard crumpled to the ground.

As Osmund watched the blood slowly begin to seep from the man, his vision blurred, nausea turning in the pit of his stomach. He felt like he was about to faint.

"Now," the leader continued, "we're going to let your daddy know that the same thing is going to happen to his precious boys if he doesn't provide the exact sum we require. A penny less and..." He held up the dagger, mimicking a slashing motion across his throat, blood still dripping from the blade. The leader let out an icy laugh at the princes' horrified expressions, the sound so awful that Osmund found himself sobbing again. "But you boys have no need to worry. I'm sure your father is willing to do anything to rescue you."

The brothers exchanged a terrified glance at the statement.

If Emeric or Wheeler had been amongst them, there was no doubt the Grand Emperor would've been willing to pay any price. Unfortunately, however—only the unfavored remained. Would their father find it humiliating to give in to the demands of petty thieves and prefer to just let them die? Knowing him, it was unnervingly likely. God, was this how it was going to end for them?

Osmund's gaze fell to Richard's dead body, picturing his own face on the man. Once small sobs grew to wails, tears streaming down his cheeks. Bartram had begun sniffling as well, his eyes hidden behind his shattered glasses.

"Oh, for fuck's sake. Stop crying!" the leader snapped, shoving Osmund with enough force to send him stumbling backwards.

"Don't fucking touch him," Avery snarled, lunging forward as wild anger flared in his gaze. Two of the leader's men immediately grabbed him by the arms, holding him in place despite Avery's frantic thrashing.

"How annoying," the leader muttered, stepping forward as he brought the bloodied dagger to Avery's throat. "I'd watch that temper, if I were you. There's plenty of you spoiled blonde brats. I'll still have more than enough to ransom if one of you..." he allowed the blade to brush lightly up the curve of Avery's throat, "had a little accident--"

And then suddenly the blade was falling and the man was being thrown into the air.

Osmund's eyes widened in shock, finally registering what he was seeing. A branch had wrapped itself around the leader as if it were a rope, yanking him high above them. And he wasn't the only one. Countless branches had sprung forward from the trees, moving fluidly as they twisted around the other assailants on all sides, dragging them skywards. In a matter of only seconds, they'd all been captured, still suspended in the air by the now unmoving branches.

The brothers and their captured guards stared upwards in shock, unable to fathom what the hell had just happened. Osmund glanced back at Wheeler's advisor now, only to see a small smile tugging at the corner of his lips.

"Well done," the advisor called out.

"Thanks!" a voice answered from the woods.

And then, at last, Wheeler emerged. Leaves and branches stuck up from his hair, a thin wooden wand held in one hand. He took off running towards his brothers, flicking his wand. The moment he did, the ropes around the princes' hands snapped in two, falling limply to the forest floor.

"Wheeler," Osmund sobbed, flinging himself at his brother. "You came back for us!"

Wheeler returned the hug, holding him tightly. And then suddenly Bartram was running toward him too, followed by Roland and Radley. Soon, all the brothers were pulling each other into a frantic group hug, practically clinging to Wheeler as relief overtook them.

Avery hung back, but his gaze was abnormally soft as he watched his brothers.

"How'd you do that?!" Bartram choked.

"Tree roots are normally connected to each other," Wheeler explained. "It took a bit of time, but I managed to channel my magic through all the trees surrounding the attackers so I could take them out in one go."

"I'll admit, that was pretty impressive," Avery said, his voice barely a whisper. "I've never seen power like that."

"How can we ever thank you enough?!" Osmund sniffled, clinging to Wheeler even tighter. "We might've died if you hadn't saved us!"

"I'm just glad you're all safe," Wheeler replied, eyes crinkling. "And you have my word that whenever you need me, I'll always be here to protect you." As the words left his mouth, Wheeler smiled brightly and Osmund felt like he was staring up at the sun. "You're my family."