Chasing Shadows

by Ashley Townsend

  She swallowed hard as she recalled seeing him about the castle. Even some of the guards were under Damien’s payroll, it seemed.

  The barest of smiles pulled at the corner of Damien’s mouth, reminding her of a cat who had its prey trapped in a corner. And she and Will were the mice. “I can’t exactly allow Sarah to go; she knows too much. ”

  “Then why don’t you just kill us on the spot? It’s not as if you haven’t done so before.” Though Will’s question was spoken out of curiosity, it came out sounding more like an invitation. Sarah winced. Don’t test him, Will, she thought.

  A flicker of pain crossed Damien’s tan face, but it was quickly replaced by a scowl. His horse shifted under him, and he tightened his hold on the reins. “Whatever happens to you is none of my concern, but the lady comes with me.”

  “I’ll tell you where you can put your ideas.” Will took a step forward, but Sarah latched onto his arm.

  “If I come with you, will you let him go?” she cried out, terrified of the fight she felt brewing between the two men. Whatever the outcome, she knew there would be a loss.

  Will turned, staring at her as if she had sprouted horns. He shook his head and lowered his voice, though she knew the others could hear him in the oppressive quiet of the forest. “In his eyes, I’m dead, anyway.”

  “Promise you won’t hurt him, Damien,” she called out as a last-ditch effort. He had said he would never lie to her, and she prayed that was true.

  “My hands will do him no harm,” Damien returned, shoulders lifting confidently.

  Will scoffed. “Ask him about his cronies,” he said under his breath.

  “What about them?” She motioned to his men, feeling a little bubble of desperate hope building inside her. But his continued silence and the stoic look on Damien’s face—which cracked only for a moment to reveal the pain written on his features—squashed every ounce of hope.

  “That’s what I thought,” Will muttered. Louder, he asked, “So, shall I end up like John and take a swim over the falls, or will you simply jam by corpse into a chest? Because it appears you’re too much of a coward to fight me in an even match.”

  Damien’s eyes flared in outrage. He threw his leg over the horse’s rump, dropping to the ground and taking a step toward them. “Do not test me, blacksmith. I came to take Sarah, and that is what I will do.” His eyes narrowed in annoyance. “I have a sense I should speak slower, because you don’t appear to comprehend that I have the upper hand. Though if it eases your conscience, I vow she will come to no harm in my presence.”

  “Your promise means nothing,” Will spat. “She’ll be your prisoner and personal toy, and you expect me to step aside at your word? As it stands, I can do something before I’m too far underground to make a difference.”

  Sarah balked at his heroism and the rather blatant slap in the face he’d directed at Damien.

  Watching the threesome out of the corner of his eye, Will turned his head toward her so they couldn’t read his lips. Lowly, he murmured, “I want you to go inside and throw the bolt down on the door.” His eyes burned with the need for her to do exactly as he said. “Whatever happens, don’t come out unless I tell you. Please.” Gently, he pried her stiff fingers from his arm and stepped forward to fight.

  “Will, no!” Sarah whispered frantically, afraid the others might overhear and suspect his intentions. She reached for him, but he’d already moved from her grasp. A perfect flake landed on the tip of her nose, melting against her warm skin. Perfect, she thought disgruntledly. Snow wouldn’t help this situation.

  Damien’s eyes flickered up to the clouds and then landed on Sarah, his look meaningful. She dropped her gaze, knowing his thoughts were on that day in the snow. She glanced up when she caught movement as he pulled a dagger from its sheath on his belt, the long sword at his side left untouched. He grinned mockingly at Will, splaying his fingers. “I suppose I over prepared.”

  “You’ll need it,” she heard Will growl.

  Timmons and the guard, silent like sentinels, started to move from their mounts to offer assistance, but they froze. Sarah heard it too: barking dogs and shouts.

  Will and Damien glared at each other from a distance, and it was obvious neither appreciated the interruption. Then they broke off in opposite directions, and Sarah nearly sagged with relief that the fight was over before it had begun.

  Will ran for her and grabbed her hand. “Dogs!” he shouted. Guiding her to the back of the house, Sarah spotted his black stallion waiting in the snow, expelling clouds of air through its nostrils. Will’s bow and quiver of arrows were strapped to the side of the saddle, as if he’d prepared for this.

  Launching himself into the saddle, he held a hand down for her.

  “What?” Sarah shrieked. She shot a look over her shoulder, knowing that Damien and his lackeys were probably already mounted. Would they follow to duke it out elsewhere or try to outrun whatever had spooked the men?

  Will stuck his hand farther out, insistent. “Trust me,” he said. He always had to pull that one.

  Gritting her teeth, she grasped his hand, stuffing her startled cry as he pulled her up behind him. He barely waited until her arms wrapped tightly around his middle before heeling the stallion in the sides.

  “Heeyah!” he urged. The animal, which seemed edgy in its idleness, launched forward so quickly that Sarah’s head would have snapped back if she didn’t have her forehead pressed against Will’s back; the stallion seemed as eager to be moving as the man guiding it.

  She gritted her teeth and squeezed her eyes closed as they plowed through the snow at frightening speeds. The wind whistled in Sarah’s ears, though Will’s body blocked most of the blast. One of the newcomers shouted in the distance behind them, announcing himself as a royal guard over the fading sound of the dogs’ yips and barks of excitement.

  Sarah pulled back, staring at the back of Will’s head to keep her eyes off the blurring landscape. “Go back! They’re guards.”

  “We can’t stop.”

  “But they’ll help,” she returned, itching to look over her shoulder but too afraid to see the world blur. “We can tell them about Damien.”

  “Dogs mean a search party,” he said loudly, as though this should make sense to her. “They’re here to investigate me, not help. I won’t leave you alone; the Spaniard has more power than you give him credit for. If I’m gone, he’ll get exactly what he wants.”

  Sarah saw with sinking hope that he was right. Even if Will were found innocent, he was the only thing keeping Damien from her right now, and if he was out of the picture for even a moment—

  She shuddered, unwilling to finish the thought. Though running only made them look guilty, she knew they couldn’t go back. So she closed her eyes and prayed they could stop soon.

  The stallion sped forward, legs pumping in long, rhythmic strides in time with the hoof beats pounding against the wet earth. Sarah felt it dodge trees and fallen limbs with surprising agility and speed for such a large beast, carrying them farther from the sounds of the search party until all Sarah heard was the rushing in her ears and the snorts from the horse’s muzzle.

  After a few minutes of tightly closing her lids with the feel of the world flashing by on both sides, she could no longer resist. She pried her lids open, forcing herself to look around. Her breath caught.

  Snow-capped trees blurred together in a hazy white landscape, the purity of it broken only by sporadic flashes of brown and evergreen. The animal’s head was pumping up and down, its ebony mane flapping wildly behind its long, elegant neck. It released a heavy snuff each time its head lurched forward, clouds of mist emitting from its flaring nostrils. The horse was moving so fast and lithely that it felt as though its hooves never touched the ground, giving the illusion that they were flying over the earth.

  At first it was terrifying to feel so out of control, but then Sarah felt a sudden breathless laugh escape her as she was filled with euphoria. The immediate danger behind them se
emed to recede into the back of her mind, and she only felt the freeness of this moment, wondering if they would soon take flight. She could see why Will loved it so much.

  “Are you all right?” Will called, angling his chin toward her while keeping his eyes on the tangled path before them.

  “It’s exhilarating!” The excitement of conquering her fears and the irony of doing so as they raced dangerously through the forest was too much to contain. She laughed again, tempted to throw her arms wide and pretend that she was, indeed, flying through the trees.

  Will placed a hand over the ones she had tightly knotted around his middle. She felt his smile and closed her eyes, tilting her head back. Snowflakes fell on her lids and nose, feeling like microscopic kisses over her skin. Sarah savored the sensation of gliding over the ground, the world flying by at her sides, her hair blowing wildly behind her. Freedom in the purest sense.

  The illusion was shattered when Will slowed his animal, and she opened her eyes reluctantly, wondering why they had stopped. She suddenly realized how hard the stallion was breathing—saliva foamed from the bit in its mouth and beads of sweat glistened on its neck—and knew they had pushed it to its limit.

  “This is as far as he can go,” Will said. “They’ll keep to their mounts for a time, and hopefully we can lose them on foot where the horses can’t travel.” He threw his leg over the animal’s neck and dropped to the ground. He wrapped his hands around her waist and lowered her until she hovered just above the ground. Feet dangling midair, Sarah looked up at him in question.

  He grinned suddenly, unrepentantly, wrapping his arms around her waist and pulling her against him, his hold keeping her off the ground. “Your cheeks are flushed. Riding suits you.”

  Sarah chuckled a little nervously, feeling heat creep up her neck as she thought about her appearance. She didn’t even want to imagine what her hair looked like. “I must look like a wild, wind-lashed banshee.”

  His grin widened and turned wicked. Eyes darkening, he murmured, “Wildness suits you.”

  Bits of snow fell on her flaming cheek, melting instantly and sliding down the neck of her dress, which was hardly suited for the outdoors. She shivered. “Uh, can you put me down now?” she squeaked.

  Will buried his face against her neck, releasing a breath. “I think we’ve lost them for now,” he answered slowly. She felt his grin spread against her skin.

  “Please put me down,” she insisted, frowning to hide her own mirth. The ride must have knocked a screw loose in both of them—or maybe it was relief that they had momentarily escaped Damien’s grasp and that of the search party.

  Will pulled back, feigning innocence. “You should have said so before.” He set her down, though with purposeful slowness that had her biting her lip to hide her grin.

  When he released her, he grabbed his bow and arrows from the saddle and slipped them over his back. Then he smacked the rump of the animal. It let out a disgruntled shriek and took off, disappearing into the forest, a blur of black amidst the white.

  “What did you do that for?” Sarah asked.

  “He’ll find his way back home, and hopefully his presence will distract Lisandro and his troupe, if they come across him.” Will took her hand and planted a warm kiss on the back of it. “Are you afraid of horses still?” he asked her knuckles.

  His question and kiss took her by surprise, and she bit her lip for a moment. “No,” she whispered breathlessly. She didn’t bother to pretend that it was the ride that had winded her.

  When he looked up, his eyes were warm. He smiled softly. Eyes roving her features, he murmured reassuringly, “You needn’t fear—I could never have left you behind. He cannot have you.”

  Sarah swallowed and stepped into his arms. They immediately closed around her, surrounding her with warmth and protection. “You don’t ever have to leave me behind.”

  He rested his chin on the top of her head. A breath shuddered through his chest. “Good. Because I’m never letting you go.”

  She couldn’t help smiling. The snow fell in earnest now, a delicate shower of white that softened the world around them, cushioning the sound of hooves.

  She jerked back. “Is it you horse?” The nervous knot in her stomach told her that that was too hopeful.

  “They’re onto our trail.” Will grabbed her hand, and she didn’t need any further encouragement to follow.

  Limbs and branches slapped at her arms, catching on the hem of her red dress. Sarah was breathing heavily as they continued to run through the woods. Her adrenaline was spent after every mad dash and fright she’d had in the last few hours, and she still felt weak from her spill yesterday. She stumbled and would have fallen had it not been for Will’s strong, steady arms that caught her around the waist. When she regained her balance, he dragged her along behind him, but she tugged on his hand to get him to stop.

  He looked back at her, his dark eyes filled with urgency. “They’re coming. We have to get to higher ground before they catch us.” He tried to pull her forward with a tug on her hand, but she shook her head quickly. Just the thought of running again made her tired legs ache.

  “I can’t go on like this,” she gasped, gripping the cramp in her side with her free arm. They were both breathing heavily, but Sarah felt like her lungs were about to burst.

  Will stared intently at her for a long moment and seemed to realize that her strength was truly spent. He nodded his head once and released her, turning around to face the direction of the newcomers the same instant that he slipped the bow over his head. Sarah realized his intent with fresh alarm.

  She gripped his forearm tightly, glancing at the unarmed weapon in his hand before turning her gaze to his determined face. She couldn’t remember ever seeing him so resolute . . . or resigned.

  The noises of approach grew more distinct as they closed the distance between them and their prey. Which group was it? The sound of thundering hooves reverberated through the forest, seeming to echo one word over and over in her head: Doom.

  “No, Will,” she pleaded urgently, “There are too many of them for you to fight.” He didn’t look at her, but stared straight ahead, anticipating the moment the riders caught up to them. Sarah’s hand tightened into a vice grip on his arm. Still he did not look at her.

  “You can make it,” she urged. This got his attention.

  His head snapped around in her direction, and he stared at her with a look akin to betrayal. She glanced nervously in the direction the sounds of pursuit were coming from. “I couldn’t make it in time, even if I had the strength,” she said, trying to make him see reason. “I can hide in the forest where he won’t find me. What matters is that you can still alert the castle of Damien’s betrayal. But you have to go now.” She reach into her sleeve and thrust the letter into his free hand, trying to close his stiff fingers. He wouldn’t take it.

  Will’s grip on his bow tightened noticeably as he stood firm. “No, Sarah. As long as he lives, he will come for you. I will not run away from this or my duty to protect you. Here is where I stand, and it will end here.” He barely managed a grin, and she could tell it was for her benefit. “I pledged you my troth, remember?”

  Sarah stared at him, knowing his mind was made up. A minute shaft of sunlight reflected through the gray clouds, streaming through the trees and catching on the shining, polished surface of the wooden bow. He looked so strong and sure as he stood there, his eyes blazing with intensity, snowflakes falling on his dark hair. Her determined protector, who was willing to trade his life for hers. She had always imagined that it would be so romantic to have a hero who would lay his life down for her in a moment of passionate sacrifice, just like the stories had always romanticized.

  But in that moment, Sarah realized with painful clarity that the stories left out the important fact that where there was sacrifice, there was also great loss. She would give up all the beautiful sacrifice of this moment if they could both just make it out alive. Though her heart warmed at the romantic gestu
re, the cost of it was too great for her to allow.

  The engraved metal band set around the center of the bow’s curved handle caught the sun, reflecting gray light as flakes of snow melted on the surface. The droplets splattered on the ground below in silent succession, marring the pristine surface of the snowy earth. To Sarah, it seemed like the symbol of Will’s impending death.

  “But what if he kills you?” she said, her voice choked with emotion. It was almost too horrible a thought to voice, but she had to make him see reason.

  Will’s eyes softened at her words and seemed to caress her face rather than stare at it, like he was trying to remember every detail. He lifted his free arm and fingered a lock of hair that rested against her collarbone, gazing at the silken curl with a look of longing and wonder. His knuckles brushed against her skin, sending a tingle down her spine.

  “Your hair is soft,” he murmured, his words sounding low and husky. Her heart sped up at the look in his eyes. His hand moved to the back of her neck, his fingers tangling themselves in her hair with painful slowness.

  Sarah held her breath as he pulled her toward him and leaned down to press his lips to hers. That kiss in the dark passageway had been gentle, sweet, unhurried, and uncomplicated, and their second kiss had been one of joyful abandon. But this embrace was full of heartache and longing, its bittersweet beauty almost too painful to endure.

  Will brought the arm wielding the bow around to encircle her waist, and his hold on her tightened, making her feel safe and protected in his strength. His lips were warm and hard against hers, almost desperate, and Sarah realized with fresh alarm that he was saying farewell. Nothing she could say would change his mind.

  The knowledge tightened her throat, and she held on to him urgently, ignoring the wrinkled letter in her hands as she knotted them behind his head. She returned his kiss with as much desperation, trying to convince him to run with her. If he didn’t, she was sure this was the last moment they would ever share together.