Chapter 11 #3
She caught him in the ribs. He bellowed with pain, pulling back. She shoved him, and he rolled, and she was up.
He staggered to his feet, drawing his sword.
She cast aside her cape, and drew her own.
For long fierce moments, she fought for her life.
He was powerful. She parried his every thrust, but she didn’t know how long her strength or her slim blade would hold out.
He raised his weapon for a lethal blow; she saw the movement, and swirled and swung upward, cutting his thigh, ducking his blow.
He bellowed, hunching down with the impetus of his own attempted strike.
She shoved him, and he fell.
She ran, knowing that she hadn’t the strength left in her arms to keep fighting. She headed swiftly along the rock.
“Lady, now I cannot tell you the torment I will inflict upon you, you will not begin to know mercy, I swear it. There will be nothing left of your pride and spirit when I finish, by all the gods!” he roared after her, and she was very afraid, knowing that he meant the threat.
If he caught her again, she’d have to kill him.
Or die.
She ran, escaping him for some distance. Then, praying he did not see her, she raced into one of the caverns. The darkness was, at first, overwhelming. She stood dead still, getting her bearings.
Then she moved more deeply into the shadows.
They followed the trail of the unknown outlaws to the crags by the loch, and there the trail ended.
Waryk dismounted, and saw that someone had tried to erase the tracks by brushing the dirt with a branch.
But the work had been hastily, carelessly, done, and he could see that the horses had been ridden toward a cave.
He raised a hand for silence from those who followed, and mounted Mercury once again.
He nudged the great horse, and they started for the cave.
He was nearly there when he heard the high-pitched scream of a berserker battle cry, and suddenly, men on horseback stormed out into the night from the cavern by the water.
His mace swinging, a huge bearded man bore down on Waryk.
He judged his opponent’s speed and strength, and drew his claymore, ducking the blow of the mace and countering with his blade.
The man went down on the wet earth. A second man charged him; as they clashed swords, he was aware that Daro and Angus, behind him, had taken on opponents.
The enemy outnumbered them greatly; Waryk thought briefly that if he had been tricked, and if Daro turned and fought with the Vikings, he and Angus would be in serious trouble.
He couldn’t dwell long on the thought; staying alive was too fierce a preoccupation.
One after another, the enemy bore down on him.
He used only his claymore, swinging right and left with all his might.
The man he fought was wearing leather chest armor, but he wore a plate himself beneath his shirt and woolen tartan—he’d never trusted any man far enough to be defenseless.
His opponent nearly found his mark, but Mercury was swift and sure, the horse’s dancing steps sweeping Waryk just out of range before his enemy’s great blade could slit his ribs.
He nudged Mercury, and the horse’s impetus allowed him to slice through his foe’s leather armor, straight to the heart. The second man fell dead.
Waryk turned within his saddle to see that Daro was engaged in deadly battle; if he had been a party to this abduction, he was willing to slay his coconspirator.
Angus, too, was involved in hand-to-hand combat, but just as Waryk determined to come to the aid of his friend, another man burst forth from the cavern.
Waryk nudged Mercury carefully, urging him hard to the cavern. Was Mellyora within?
He didn’t reach the cavern. He clashed with the man just outside.
The waters of the loch rose into the cavern and as their horses jostled for position, the cold water of the loch soared and sprayed around them.
He thought that Mellyora must be inside.
Anxious to reach her and determine if she’d been harmed, he fought with a renewed strength.
His opponent fought with battle-ax and sword, but Waryk gave no quarter in return, slashing with a fury.
He split the battle-ax, and his opponent threw it to the ground.
Their blades next clashed; the ring of steel seemed louder than thunder.
His next blow felled the man, catching him in the neck.
He caught at his throat from where his life’s blood gushed, and fell into the water.
Waryk dismounted from Mercury, rushing into the cave, his sword still ready. “Mellyora!”
There was no answer, and he wondered wryly if she would come to his call, but though there were more horses in the cavern, there was no sign of Mellyora or any other men.
He rushed out, seeing that Angus had just slain his opponent and that Daro was bringing his sword down on the man he battled.
“Keep him alive!” Waryk roared, but he had cried out too late, and Daro managed to just slightly deflect his blow. The man fell, and Daro leapt down from his mount as Waryk rushed forward. Together they hunched over the dying man.
“Where is the Lady Mellyora?” Waryk demanded harshly.