To his utter mortification he felt heat sweep across his face. It had been years since he’d blushed in front of someone, not since he’d been a young man and Theo had continually beaten him at sword practice. It had taken him months to work out a successful counter-attack and the mockery he’d received from his fellow pages had been relentless. This was worse than that.
She still didn’t look at him.
He tried again. ‘It was uncalled for. I shouldn’t have taken advantage of you.’
She nodded, mumbling something under her breath.
‘Can I buy you something to eat as way of an apology?’ What? He’d just made the resolution not to spend time with Ave from now on.
‘I’ve eaten,’ she said quietly.
‘Right.’ He doubted she had. The kitchens hadn’t produced the evening meal before he’d left, but he wasn’t going to press the issue. She obviously didn’t want to spend any further time with him. He would walk on now and leave her alone. Any moment now he would do just that, any moment now. But his feet weren’t obeying his internal commands. He remained rooted to the spot, next to her. She didn’t appear to want to move either.
‘Ave, I...’
‘Somebody’s coming.’
‘What?’
‘I can hear footsteps, from more than one person, heading in this direction. They sound as if they are in a hurry. We should get off the path.’
She tugged on his sleeve and pulled him off the rough track, into the scrub bushes that lined it.
Now that he was no longer looking at her, he, too, could hear the sound of people approaching from the direction of the castle. The heavy footsteps appeared to be in a hurry.
Men rounded the corner in a cloud of dust and ground to a complete halt when they caught sight of Ave and William at the edge of the path.
William’s hand moved to his sword. ‘Stay behind me.’
Ave didn’t argue, moving into position, her body tensed. ‘What do you think they want with us?’
‘They want nothing with you. You should run.’
He was surprised when she stayed behind him. ‘I’m serious, Ave. You should leave now. I doubt they are even aware you are here.’ At least, he hoped not. If the men were here to cause trouble, then they wouldn’t want Ave to witness anything. She was in as much danger as he was and that was his fault for not leaving her alone.
The lead runner moved towards William quickly, the others followed. Without comment the man nearest William swung his sword through the air. It was a clumsy move and William was able to dodge it easily. The leader stepped back, an unpleasant sneer across his face.
Ave still didn’t run. Fear flooded his veins. Not for him—he’d fought worse and was trained to die—but if a blade as much as touched Ave, it would cause him great agony. He tugged his dagger out of its sheath and handed it to her. She didn’t comment as her fingers closed over the handle, her gaze fixed on the men in front of them. A surge of admiration rushed through him, quickly followed by fear. If anything happened to her, he would never forgive himself.
The five men fanned out.
The oldest one grinned and William rolled his eyes—this bravado he was used to. Men who thought they were going to win before they started the fight didn’t usually fare so well.
Ave moved out from behind him and stepped to his left.
‘You need to go.’ He said it firmly, hoping, rather than expecting, she would take heed.
‘I’m not going to leave you.’
He turned to her. She was gripping the dagger so tightly William could see the white of her knuckles. Her gaze was fixed on the men in front of him, her expression determined.
‘Ave...’
He didn’t finish his sentence before the first man took another swipe at him.
It was a slow move and easy to deflect.
Ave held steady next to him.
Five wasn’t too many. He’d had worse odds and survived, but he’d never fought alongside someone he desperately wanted to protect before. Ave’s presence complicated matters considerably.
The first man came at him again.
His sword swipe was harder this time, but just as easy to deflect. This was a man with confidence but little skill.
No one had spoken, but there was no need. The intention of the men before him was very clear. They were not here to warn him off. They were here to kill him. And he’d unwittingly led them to Ave. That very fact had sealed their fate. He could not let them live. If he did, Ave would be a target for having witnessed this attack for ever.
This was a fight to the death.
Another swipe had him ducking, but he got lucky and caught his assailant in a deadly blow. The man’s eyes widened before he hit the floor.
Next to him Ave screamed.
He gripped her arm. ‘Ave, you must run. These men are serious.’
She shook her head. He had no time to argue with her further. The four remaining men converged on him, anger for their fallen comrade making their moves wild.
Ave rushed forward and took a swipe at the weakest assailant. It was a good tactical move. It took the fourth man’s attention away from William, leaving him with only three men to fight. Three men was easy, he could do that in his sleep. Ave just had to keep the weaker one distracted long enough for him to finish off these men.
He went in for the attack. His world became a blur of swords and the clash of metal against metal. And then there were only two men left in front of him.
Ave cried out and William turned.
She was holding her own, but he could see that she was starting to tire. Sweat coated her brow. She stumbled and fell to her knee, picking herself up only just in time.
He couldn’t leave her to face this man alone.
He moved towards her, but as he did so his assailant struck a blow to the back of his knees, bringing him to the ground with a grunt. He raised his arm to ward off a strike to the head and he felt metal graze his skin.
Ave screamed again. She reached out and blocked another blow. The dagger was flung from her hands, leaving her defenceless. He surged up, anger propelling him forward. His third assailant fell to the ground, mortally injured.
‘Behind me,’ he yelled to Ave.
This time she obeyed instantly.
Neither of the two men left were skilled fighters, but he’d given them an advantage. Now they knew William was trying to protect Ave, they began to use that against him.
‘Get the lad,’ yelled the stronger of the two.
William swung out his arm to protect Ave and was rewarded with a jarring blow to his shoulder. He grunted and staggered to the left, leaving his side unprotected. A short, sharp kick to the ribs followed. He heard something crack and a burning pain spread through his chest.
He needed to end this.
He began to move faster, his sword a blur in front of him.
On his periphery, he could see Ave searching through the scrub, obviously looking for the dagger. He wanted to yell at her to get up. She was leaving her back wide open for attack, but he couldn’t get his words out—every breath was painful.
One of his assailants spotted her and grinned. Moving away from William, he raised his sword. William dodged to the left, blocking a blow that would surely have killed her. His foot slipped and he fell to the ground. Pain lanced through him as he jarred whatever had snapped in his ribs.
His assailant kicked him and the air whooshed out of his lungs.
He staggered to his feet and began to fight again. His assailants moved around him, trying to take swipes at Ave. With no weapon to defend herself she was completely vulnerable. Panic began to claw up William’s throat. He hadn’t lost a fight in years, but he’d never been defending someone he so passionately wanted to not only live, but leave here without so much of a mark on her perfect skin.
He managed to g
et a good blow on the stronger of the two. The man dropped back for a moment, cursing.
William saw his opportunity, but before he could follow it up the weaker one rallied and charged him. Blows were raining freely now. He could not say who was winning, only that he was keeping Ave safe from getting hurt.
His ribs screamed in agony, but he was not going to go down and leave her defenceless.
And then there was only one of them left.
He felt, rather than saw, Ave slip from behind him. His concentration was fully on his remaining opponent. He hoped, rather than believed, that she was running far away from this scene.
The man was fresher than William—he’d only had to fight against one man instead of five—but William had managed to get in some significant blows and so they were evenly matched with William having the advantage of rigorous training and skill.
Beside him he heard the unmistakable sound of metal being dragged across the ground.
‘Stop.’ Surprisingly his opponent took notice of Ave’s command.
Ave was holding out one of the fallen men’s swords. William had a moment to experience a surge of pride at her bravery, despite her shaking arm, before blinding fear set in.
Instead of continuing his fight with William, his opponent surged towards Ave. Ave held the man off as he rained down blows with his sword, but he was advancing on her quickly. She would not be able to hold him off for long.
William ran forward, but he was too late. The man had knocked Ave’s sword to the ground and was holding his weapon to her throat.
‘Don’t move,’ he growled.
William froze. He had no doubt the man would slit Ave’s throat whatever happened, but he needed to plan his counter-attack to stop Ave getting hurt in the process.
He didn’t look at Ave, he didn’t think he could continue if he saw the terror on her face.
‘It seems we are at an impasse,’ he said.
Their assailant grunted. William guessed the man hadn’t thought through his own plan. If he killed Ave, then William would kill him anyway. That didn’t mean William could dally—with every heartbeat Ave was in danger of getting hurt.
Without giving himself time to think, William threw himself at the remaining man. He succeeded in getting him away from Ave as the two of them hurtled to the ground.
The landing caused the pain in his chest to radiate outwards, but William had no time to dwell on it as his assailant’s fist connected with his jaw. He tasted blood.
Fists flew. William knew he was winning, his assailant getting tired, his punches were weakening.
‘William!’ Ave’s scream had William looking up just in time for him to see one of the men he’d thought dead dragging himself towards them on unsteady but determined feet. The man raised his arm and punched William squarely across the face.
He must have blacked out because he came round to find himself airborne. Rough hands held him at the shoulders and legs. He grabbed a knife he had strapped to his leg and, twisting, managed to hit the man who held his ankles. The man went down with a grunt, but the other one held on tight. William twisted and turned, but the bash to his head had lessened his strength and he didn’t appear to be able to break free. William realised what the man’s intention was moments before he landed in the stream. Icy, cold water rushed over him, waking him from his stupor.
His assailant waded into the river and grabbed on to William’s tunic, pulling him under the water. William reached up and grabbed hold of the man, pulling him down with him.
It was difficult to see in the murky depths. The man thrashed in William’s grip, struggling to get free, but William held on. His only thought was that he had to win this. He managed to break through the surface, gasping in a sustaining breath before his assailant pulled him back down.
Gradually his assailant’s struggles slowed and finally stopped. William held on for a little longer, just to be sure.
He was so tired now. He could barely move. He tried to kick his legs to bring himself to the surface, but his body refused to respond to his commands, the armour and weapons he wore with pride dragging him down towards the bottom of the river.
He had one, final feeling of relief that Ave was safe before darkness set in.
Chapter Eight
Avva’s lungs burned as fear coated her every breath. ‘Where is he? Where is he?’ she muttered as her feet slipped on the uneven terrain of the river’s bank.
How could this have happened?
She’d been so caught up in trying to understand what William was saying about their kiss, not able to tell from the few words he’d said whether he regretted kissing her or not, that she hadn’t really appreciated the threat they were under until it was too late. She’d stupidly been wondering whether William would kiss her again when she’d heard the running men—it had taken her several moments to realise that the men meant harm.
Even now, with the men’s bodies scattered across the pathway and their blood soaking into the dirt, she almost couldn’t believe all that had passed.
She stumbled over the root of a tree and dropped to her knees. Tears burned the back of her eyes as she pushed herself back up to her feet. If she didn’t find William quickly, he could drown. She couldn’t allow that to happen. Not when it was her fault he was in the water.
There hadn’t been a moment when she had believed William would lose against his assailants. He had swooped and whirled and easily overpowered them. If only that final one hadn’t woken—neither she nor William had been watching the fallen men. She’d assumed they were all dead. William had seemed disorientated after the blow to the head, but even then he’d kept fighting, not giving up even as he was dragged towards the river.
Now he’d disappeared beneath the murky water. She’d seen him surface once, but he hadn’t reappeared in an eternity. Neither had his assailant.
She raced along the riverbank, praying she would spot him before the sun set completely and the light disappeared.
A glint caught her eye and she paused. She squinted—yes, the glint was coming from one of William’s weapons.
She clambered down the edge of the bank and waded into shallows, gasping as icy water splashed against the skin of her legs. Something solid bumped against her. Looking down, she realised it was William’s body. He was eerily still. She reached down and grabbed hold of the front of his tunic.
She was strong, working in the stables required that, but William was a dead weight.
She heaved and stumbled backwards, half falling into the edge of the water. She pulled again, managing to get William’s face out of the water while the rest of him stayed submerged in the shallows.
She rolled him to his side and thumped him soundly on the back. ‘Come on. Wake up!’
Nothing.
She pummelled his back, screaming at him.
His shoulders heaved and then his whole body spasmed. He began coughing violently.
Avva staggered upright, splashing through the shallows until she reached the bank. She stumbled on to the grass and sank to her knees. William was alive and awake. She’d done the best she could. She should leave. That was the sensible option. She was already entangled in trouble, but with those men dead, they couldn’t identify her as the person who had been with William.
William rolled on to his back, still coughing, his face just above the water level,
Avva’s feet refused to move, even as her mind roared at her to stand up and leave. He looked so vulnerable, despite his solid bulk.
William’s coughing gradually subsided, but he didn’t pull himself out of the river. Avva could see the rise and fall of his chest and so she knew he was still alive.
She made her way back down to his side. His eyes were closed and he was an unhealthy shade of white. ‘Are you able to get up?’
His eyes opened into little slits. ‘Ave.’
&
nbsp; ‘Yes. It’s me.’ She crouched down next to him, alarmed by the weakness of his voice. ‘Can you stand? We need to get you out of the water.’
‘I...’ He appeared to lapse back into unconsciousness.
Avva rolled him slightly and hooked one arm under his shoulder. Using all her strength, she managed to lift him slightly, enough to get her other arm under him as well. She couldn’t pull herself up to standing but, crouching low and bracing her legs against a boulder, she was able to drag him out of the water and up on to the bank.
She touched his forehead and he moaned. His skin was icy cold and, now that the water wasn’t washing it away, she could see a deep cut across his forehead, blood pouring from it ominously.
He stirred again, his eyes half opening to look at her.
‘I’m going to get help,’ she said.
His arm shot out and grabbed her, his grip strong despite his weakened state. ‘No.’
‘No?’
‘You can’t tell anyone.’
‘But I can’t...’
‘You’ll have to,’ he rasped.
‘I...’ She should have run. She should have left him to fend for himself as he’d told her to. If she carried on helping him, she was a conspirator in whatever was going on and that would definitely bring trouble into her life. Yet, if she hadn’t been there he wouldn’t have been distracted, he probably wouldn’t be lying by the stream half-dead if it wasn’t for her. Besides, he had promised to protect her against Barwen—the least she could do was help him when he was in need.
‘Please.’ William’s grasp on her arm loosened and she could tell he was about to lose consciousness again.
‘Fine, I won’t get help, but we need to move you from here.’
He moistened his lips, but whatever he’d been about to say was lost and he went under again.
Darkness had fallen while they’d been down at the riverbank. Avva pulled her cloak tightly around her. Dragging William from the river had made her hot, but the water from her dip into the river had soaked through most of her clothes and she was shivering violently now.
‘What should I do?’ she muttered. She wished Aven was still alive so she could go to him for help. He’d always been the braver of the two of them and would have thought of a solution which kept everyone safe, but she was floundering. She had no friends, no one to turn to for aid, wouldn’t involve her younger brothers in this. She was going to have to use her own wits.
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