Rescued
Page 7
“Where you going?” the man asked Drake, his stare never leaving her breasts. “I thought we’d share.”
Drake stepped in front of her and shook his head. Then, with a movement so fast it barely registered, he struck the man in the throat. One quick hit and the man was on his knees, his hands wrapped around his injured throat, gasping for air.
She blanched at the quick violence. How dare Drake do such a thing? There had been no call to act so violently.
“Thank you,” Drake said as he reached over the now kneeling man and retrieved the man’s pack. “We will be borrowing this for a few days. I’m sure you won’t mind.” Drake dumped the contents onto the table and slung the empty pack over his shoulder.
He grabbed her elbow and started guiding her out the door, all the while keeping himself between her and the other men in the room.
Once they were outside, she yanked her arm from his grasp and turned to give him a piece of her mind.
“Why did you do that?” she demanded. “He hadn’t struck at you. He hadn’t touched you. Why hurt him like that?”
He looked back down, his brow knitted, like he was trying to figure out a strange new puzzle. At last, he leaned back and laughed.
“You are serious,” he said with disbelief. “The man wanted to pull you into a corner and rape you. What is more, there were five other men willing to hold you down while he did it. As long as they got a turn afterwards.” He shook his head, obviously unable to believe someone could be so naive.
Her insides hardened. The coarseness of his words struck her. Was that what the man meant? Had she really been in danger? She had been so set on getting help that she had never really examined her surroundings. A fact that must not be allowed to happen again. This world was different. She no longer lived in a high room of a strong castle.
“Come on,” he said as he took her arm again, “we have to hurry. Knowing you, you probably left a trail a mile wide for the King’s Guard to follow.”
She hurried after him as he marched quickly across the yard to the barn.
“Where are your things?” he asked.
“There,” she said, pointing to the three bags in the corner, “The bay in the next stall is my horse. And, the roan next to her is for the bags.”
He threw his head back and laughed. “Oh, Princess. You are special.”
She frowned as she tried to understand what he meant. The frown was quickly replaced by a sense of shock as he started pulling things from her bags. Some he stuffed into the new pack, other he threw aside.
When he tossed her underthings into the mud, she screamed and tried to pull him away.
“What are you doing?” she demanded, as she tried to put her things back without him seeing. She pushed at his shoulder. It was like trying to move a barn. The man didn’t budge.
“We have to travel light,” he said as he continued to transfer things. At last, he finished. Stepping across the barn floor, he retrieved another, much larger pack, from a dark corner. She knew instantly that this was his.
“But, the horses?” she said. “I am sure Benjie can carry your pack as well,” she said.
He just looked at her and shook his head. A new fear began to build inside her as she waited for him to explain. A coldness gripped her as she realized what he was going to say.
“We’re not taking the horses,” he said, giving voice to her worst fear.
“Why not?” she asked. Her hands on her hips, she needed to get to Sinstra. She was not going to walk all the way.
“Why not?” he parroted back at her. “Because horses draw dragons like honey draws bees.”
The air left her lungs. He said it like it were real. As if he truly believed in dragons.
“Come on, Princess,” he said as he took her arm once again. “We have a long way to go.”
She almost fought him then and there. But, she remembered her goal. Julian. She needed to reach help, and this was the only man who could get her there.
They continued on. She thought back to the way he had called her ‘princess.’ She hated it when he called her ‘princess,’ she determined. He said the word almost with a sneer, using it like it was an insult or something. She much preferred it when he called her Elsbeth. The word rolled off his tongue, like it was important.
Sighing to herself, she skipped to try and keep up. The idiot’s legs were too long. It was going to be a rather frustrating trip if he kept this pace. Her heart raced - the pace of their journey was the least of her problems.
She would be alone with this man. What was more? It would be impossible to stop him if he wanted to take her. The next thought that jumped into her head was to wonder why she would want to stop him.