Chapter 18
Garlain clasped Bree’s arm and pulled her behind a column. His arm shot out again and hauled in Kieri and placed her between him and Bree.
Bree raised her brows and looked at Kieri. Kieri shrugged and whispered, “I can help.”
“How?” Bree asked.
“Go back to Morla,” Garlain said.
“But I can help.”
“You will get in the way,” Garlain said. “Now, go back.”
“Wait,” Bree said. “Maybe she can help.” She eyed the cage on the back of one of the wagons and spied the young man from the trader’s wagon they met on the road to Frother.
“She’s tiny and if she sneaks to this side of the wagon full of people, she might be able to get them out.
It looks like some of them could fight, and I know one man there who would do anything to help the knights of Pradwick. ”
Garlain grunted and regarded the girl with narrowed eyes.
“You’ve got to admit, it’s a good plan.”
He nodded. “All right. That is a good plan.”
A gentle breeze passed by Bree. She started and turned. Morla had joined them but Bree never heard her do so.
“What are you doing here?” Garlain said, a scowl firmly planted on his face.
“I want to help too. You can’t expect me to stay in there”—she pointed inside the castle—“by myself. I am supposed to look after you if you recall.”
“I don’t recall, but mayhap your seer gifts could help.”
“That’s what I had hoped.”
Bree didn’t think she sounded too sure of herself. But they couldn’t stand there all day; she had to see Horland, and she could only see as far as the cage from where they were standing.
Bree grabbed Kieri’s hand. “Ready?”
She nodded, and Bree bent low and they hurried to the side of the wagon.
Rose Laffin, the woman from the trader wagon Horland had tried to pass her and Kieri off onto, spotted Bree and Kieri first. She turned and held the bars of the cage.
Bree quickly put her finger to her lips to keep Rose quiet.
She nodded and pulled on the back of her son’s vest. Mayland twisted around and his eyes widened at the sight of Bree. He grinned and squirmed next to his mother, and whispered to Bree, “Sir Horland is in trouble.”
“I know.” She looked down at Kieri. “Can you sneak to the other wagon and see if the key is still on that hook near where the driver sits?”
Kieri nodded and quietly disappeared around the front of the wagon. She slithered up onto the seat of the other wagon and kept prostate as she shimmied along to the other side.
Bree searched the cage and couldn’t see Monty, the woman’s husband, but she did see two more able bodied men and four women about her age. All of them should be able to fight, she thought, but they needed weapons.
She looked back at Garlain and Morla, mouthed the word weapons and pointed to the prisoners.
Morla and Garlain exchanged confused looks.
Bree pretended to pull a sword from her belt and slashed the invisible blade around in the air.
She glanced at the cage and seeing the young man was watching her, gave the invisible weapon to him.
He caught on and taking it, he pulled it through the bars and hid it in his robes, before fisting his hand and sticking up his thumb at Bree.
Morla ran into the ruins and Garlain smiled, admiration filling his eyes, and stuck up his thumb at her as well.
Bree hoped Morla had understood and then hoped, again, that they had enough weapons in the ruins.
Mayland had pushed his way to the cage gate. “Lady,” he said. “Open the door.”
“Shh.” Bree shot him a frown. “Just wait,” she whispered.
She edged to the edge of the wagon and peered at the bandits.
Horland was on his knees and the toothless oaf was laughing at him.
“Whether it be animal or human, my men will find whatever made that screaming noise. You, the king, and the rest of the knights can all go to hell. We will be gone before any know of our dealings.”
He held the sword aloft and Bree, scared the pig was going to behead Horland, slipped to the back of the wagon. But before she could shout for Drimpal to stop, Garlain swooped into the midst of the bandits, howling abuses, and slashing with his sword.
Bree ducked back behind the cage on the wagon and peered around the corner, stretching her neck as far as it would go. Horland’s face erupted in surprise at the sight of Garlain.
“Get him,” Drimpal shouted, and pressing his sword tip into Horland’s neck, he said, “Don’t move.”
Garlain felled one, then pounced on another. He parried and sidestepped and ducked, but Bree could tell he was tiring. His rapid breaths rasped, and sweat droplets formed along his hairline, but he forged on, slicing his sword into his enemy’s side.
“Let us out,” Mayland whispered harshly.
“Not yet, I don’t have the key. Princess Morla is getting you weapons, swords I hope.”
He harrumphed and a bandit cried out.
“Now shush.” Bree refocused on Garlain’s fight.
While the bandit Garlain fought didn’t fall, he did back away, giving the rest of the bandits room to attack. Bree noted a red patch flowering open on his white sleeve.
Garlain fought like a lion, but every swipe of his blade brought more sweat out on his now red face. With many opponents he too was soon overcome and on his knees. The bandits surrounded him, pointing their swords at his neck and back.
“Should I take his head, Drimpal?”
“No. He will be our insurance for safe passage,” Drimpal said, and raised his head. “Where’s the ship?”
A bandit emerged from the rosebushes. “It is docking as we speak.”
Bree recognized him as the big red-haired brigand who captured her. That part of her life seemed so long ago now, a dream almost.
Drimpal, keeping the sword hard against Horland’s neck, waved his other arm at the bandits surrounding Garlain. “Take him to the ship and hoist him in the slave keep.”
“Aye, sir.” They manhandled Garlain through the bushes.
Kieri moved silently alongside Bree.
“Kieri, hurry inside and see what’s happened to Morla,” Bree said.
Kieri took off at a run and Bree grunted. She should have gotten the key from her.
“As soon as she comes back out, I’ll set you all free,” she said to the prisoners and crept back to her place at the corner of the cage.
Drimpal’s mouth twisted in a slimy toothless sneer as he glared at Horland. “You are not needed. Your life is forfeit.”
He raised his sword and Bree gasped. She slapped her hand over her mouth. Her pulse thundered in her temples and she couldn’t think straight. Her only thought was that Horland was going to die. She ran out of her cover. “Wait.”
Drimpal stayed his hand and turned. “Ah, the pretty thing. You would have me not kill the knight?”
“Yes, no.” Bree clasped her hands in front of her chest. “Please don’t kill him.”
She chewed her bottom lip as he played the tip of the sword along Horland’s neck.
Hoping for a miracle, Bree glanced at the wagon, but the prisoners were still in place. She could just make out the hem of Kieri’s dress peeking out from the other side of the wagon. Mayland appeared to be begging Kieri to open the cage door. Why had Kieri come back so quickly?
Morla was still nowhere in sight.
Drimpal focused on Horland. “We have no more time for games.” He pierced Big Red with a look. “Perlos, have the ship ready to sail.”
Red gave Bree a slimy-green-toothed smile and ducked back into the bushes.
Drimpal pushed the tip of his sword into Horland’s neck. Blood pooled around the steel.
Bree’s heart flipped and she cried out. “No.”
Drimpal turned his head. “Be silent.”
“Please, Drimpal,” Bree said, her heart thumped against her ribs and made it hard to breathe.
Would he really kill Horland? She gaped at the fiend.
Yes, yes, he would. She couldn’t let that happen, she couldn’t see Horland be killed, her heart and soul couldn’t take it.
“If,” She pulled in a quick breath. “If you let him go, I, I’ll go with you. ”
Drimpal leered at her. “You will freely walk onto the ship, come to my bed?”
“No,” Horland shouted.
“Yes.,” Bree said, walked to the slaver’s side imploring Horland to be quiet with her eyes.
Horland shook his head and cast her a pleading gaze. “No.”
Perlos, the red-haired brute, reappeared. “Something is wrong, Drimpal” He jabbed his finger in the direction of the river. “The ship,” he swallowed. “The ship is sinking.”
Drimpal grabbed Bree, his fingers digging into the soft flesh of her elbow. He flipped his sword and as he passed behind Horland, he brought the pummel down on the back of his head. Horland fell forward.
Bree screamed, “No.” She tried to squirm out of the slaver’s grasp, but his hold strengthened, and he pulled her along with him into the thorny bushes.
“Horland,” Bree cried out.
As she was dragged through the bushes, all Bree could think about was Horland.
She didn’t believe he was dead, but she knew beyond a certainty that he was unconscious and therefore unable to come to her rescue.
No one else could either. They didn’t have weapons.
It was once again up to her to save herself.
Most of the branches were on the ground, broken, from the toing and froing of his men, but some stubborn branches remained, and their thorns found their way into Bree’s face and neck.
She didn’t have a chance to see how bad her injuries were because Drimpal continued to drag her with him. Bree stumbled at the sight of the great mast’s tilt as the bow dipped slowly into the river.
Drimpal didn’t slow until he was on the small wharf. He hauled Bree up the gangplank, pulling her arm forward and nearly pulling it right out of its socket. Bree cried out.
“Take her,” he said.
Two of the men on the deck grabbed Bree and yanked her aboard. Drimpal leapt onboard and strode to the door that would take him below.
HORLAND RUBBED THE back of his head, trying to steady the swirling of his brain inside his skull. He grunted and stood up. He would reclaim Briana or die.
“Sir Horland,” a youth’s voice shouted.
Horland started and looked at Mayland. All the prisoners were there, watching and waiting.
“You are free to go,” Horland said.
“Thank you, Sir Horland,” Rose said, and took Mayland’s hand.
Mayland looked at his mother. “I am not going anywhere until we are certain of Miss Briana and Sir Garlain’s safety.”
Rose sighed but nodded. “I will wait for you here.”
Horses’ hooves and wagon wheels sounded along the path. They all turned, ready for another onslaught of bandits, but Mayland’s father had the reins.
Monty was bloodied and bruised but grinning like a Cheshire cat at Rose. “I have found you, my love.”
Rose went to him. “I thought you dead.”
“I too thought I was to meet our maker, but his hand was stalled, and I am now here.”
Mayland rushed to the back of the wagon and leaped inside. He appeared behind Monty, throwing two swords to the prisoners. “We only have three,” he said as he jumped down to the ground, sword in hand.
Horland nodded his head at Mayland. Horland, Mayland, and the prisoners emerged onto the riverbank. Horland stopped short and scowled. Drimpal and Briana walked along the tipping deck of the ship.