Chapter 20
NO WAY OUT
Foam bubbled in the corners of the horse’s mouth, steam billowed off his neck and flanks.
If Aila had to guess, she would have said that Laura had pushed that horse to run as hard and as fast as he could from the English border to the castle.
He ran with a considerable limp, one that made Aila’s heart ache.
Without another word, Taryn swung up onto Knight’s back, pulling the reins from Aila’s hands. Aila and Lachlan exchanged a glance of concern. Taryn was only just out of the courtyard, not even a quarter of the way to her friend, when they saw what Laura had been running from.
“Och, nay,” Aila whispered in horror.
Knight raced towards Laura, kicking up clumps of dirt and dust behind him as Taryn pushed him faster and faster. But for every wave of speed Knight gained, Laura’s horse continued to flag.
“Lachlan, send more men out there to help her!” Aila begged.
She stared in terror at the three men who chased after Laura.
All decked in Dudley’s coat of arms, a sneer on their faces, Aila knew very well what Laura had gotten herself into.
She spun to Lachlan, nearly ready to take his horse herself and go after Taryn.
James, having raced down the stairs as soon as he saw his sister, looked like he had planned the same thing.
“We hold the line here,” Lachlan said firmly, though a hint of regret simmered in his eyes. “We must be ready for what comes behind those scouts. We could never reach Laura and Taryn in time now.”
“I will nae stand by and do nothing,” Aila shouted.
She spun on her heel and shot up to the gate. Using her elbows, she shoved her way through the other archers. Just a few more yards and the scouts would be within range. She stalked along the stones, keeping her gaze on the man closest to Laura.
“Faster, Knight, faster,” Taryn urged.
Leaning low over his neck, she willed the beast to run as fast as he could. Laura had locked eyes on Taryn, a haunted, desperate expression in her eyes. Taryn kicked again. She would not fail Laura a second time.
“Almost,” she whispered, her eyes darting to the small group of men that had clearly followed Laura for miles.
Laura’s horse stumbled again and Taryn swore.
“Hang on!” she cried out, determination singing in her blood.
With her dagger in one hand, Taryn stretched out as far as she could, urging Knight to close the gap between the two girls. They were close enough now that Taryn could hear Laura pleading with her own horse to keep going, murmuring her thanks as tears streamed down her face.
Ten more heartbeats and Taryn would be there.
The scouts were getting closer than Taryn was comfortable with, but that was a problem she would solve once Laura was safe behind her.
Taryn eyed the group, weighing which man would pose the most danger to her and Laura, crafting a battle strategy in her head, holding on to Knight with all the strength of her legs.
It was a slight movement out of the corner of Taryn’s eye that caught her attention. A shifting in the tree line that tore her eyes away from Laura and towards the forest. By the next time Knight’s foreleg hit the ground again, she saw the shadows for what they truly were. Taryn swore again.
The whole of Dudley’s army, all of his allied forces, the riders, and archers and all, emerged, ready for the fight that lay ahead of them all.
Some of the men wore angry, vengeful expressions, while many others looked hesitant.
She considered it a good omen that the men gathered to fight with her family were there for the right reason. She doubted Dudley could say the same.
Time was too precious to spend contemplating the motives for war, Taryn realized, shaking her head to clear her thoughts. Lachlan and the army standing behind her would be ready to deal with the Baron’s forces. Her only goal was to get Laura to safety.
Refocused, Taryn finally saw just how dangerously close one of the scouts had gotten to Laura.
His hand reached out his sword, swiping it for her horse’s back legs.
Taryn didn’t think, she merely took aim and launched her dagger into the air.
The tip of her blade lodged in the man’s chest, stunning him before it forced him to drop his sword.
He doubled over his horse and then slid to the ground with a satisfying thunk.
Laura shrieked, but Taryn only reached for her bow, pulling it off her shoulder.
“Put out yer hand,” Taryn shouted, already reaching with every inch she could get.
She stood, her feet in the stirrups, and leaned over Knight’s side.
“Steady, lad,” she soothed, “Quick and steady. Be ready to turn.”
Never before had Taryn been so grateful for Aila’s warhorse. There was no other beast on the field who would have ridden the way Knight had, charging into the front lines without hesitation.
Six inches was all that stood between Taryn and Laura. Six inches that became feet as Laura’s horse finally collapsed, having given his life to save Laura’s. Exhaustion claimed the beautiful beast’s heart, and his feet fell out from under him.
“Nay!” Laura cried.
Taryn bent low, her fingers catching on Laura’s hand.
The weight of her friend’s fall wrenched her shoulder with a painful pop, but Taryn could hardly feel it.
Pushing into the stirrups once more, Taryn stood with all her might, hauling Laura into the saddle in front of her.
The girl barely had time to clamber into the seat before Taryn was jerking Knight around.
Only once Knight was headed back to the courtyard did Taryn glance down at Laura.
“Take the reins,” Taryn told her friend, tossing her the leather straps. “Can ye get him back there?”
Body shaking and tears still streaming, Laura nodded. Taryn knew that had her fingers not been covered in gloves, Laura’s knuckles would have been pure white.
“What are ye doing?” Laura asked, voice quivering.
“Taking care of a wee problem.”
Unhooking her boots from the stirrups, Taryn spun on the saddle, pressing her back into Laura’s.
The other two scouts were closer than she had realized, the sight of their gnarled faces and gleaming swords sending a pang of panic through her stomach.
Her hands raced to find an arrow from her back and slip it into place in the bow.
Shaking too badly, she dropped the first arrow she had grabbed.
Swearing, Taryn reached back again, already anticipating the fact that she would never be able to shoot both men fast enough to get to safety.
“I do not think so, wench,” the closest man taunted. “I will have you for—”
The threat died on his lips, an arrow piercing his eye. From the force of the blow, the man fell off his horse backwards, surprising the last of the men riding after the two girls. With her own arrow still notched in her bow, Taryn didn’t have to look to know it was Aila who had protected her.
Before the last man could regain his focus, Taryn sent her arrow flying, killing him just as quickly as the other three had died.
Relief bubbled inside her, but Taryn tamped it down as she took note of Dudley’s armies lining up across the field.
Somewhere behind the first lines of defense, Taryn knew the Baron was waiting, taking stock of the fight that lay ahead.
But for now, all that mattered was that Laura was safe.
Sorcha’s arms reached up, easing Taryn off Knight’s back. The horse stomped his feet, clearly put out that his adventure had been put on pause, but no one paid him any mind. James, having raced to the edges of the courtyard with Sorcha and Oliver, had his sister cradled in his arms.
“Ye got her,” Sorcha said to Taryn. “Ye saved her.”
Throwing her arms around his neck, Oliver swooped Taryn into his arms, following James into the castle. The two women were rattled, but Laura looked as though she was ready to keel over from delirium.
James set his sister down on the closest chair in the Great Hall. He pulled a flask off his belt and held it up to his sister’s mouth, urging her to drink. After three long swigs, Laura wiped her mouth and sagged into the chair.
“Are ye all right?” James asked gingerly, passing the flask to Taryn.
Sorcha blinked back tears, so wonderfully surprised to know that her new friend was alive and safe. Leaving Laura in the Baron’s home had been Sorcha’s biggest regret. From the moment Oliver had escorted Sorcha away from Dudley’s estate, guilt had wracked Sorcha’s bones.
“I think so,” Laura whispered.
“Ye have been through a shock,” James mollified. “It will take time for ye to regain yer head. Everything will be all right.”
Unable to stop himself, James gathered Laura into a tight hug once more.
“Mother and father are here, in the safe rooms. They will be over the moon to see ye. I can nae tell ye the anguish we have suffered in yer absence. I swear to ye, I will kill that bastard myself,” James promised.
“Nae if I get my hands on him first,” Sorcha quipped.
“I do not mean to break up the reunion,” Oliver interrupted coolly, “but there is an army waiting for us outside those doors. If ye are all right and have nothing else, then—”
“Wait,” Laura suddenly said, her eyes clearing for the first time. “The letters. Ye must see the letters.”
“What letters?” Sorcha asked.
“Brandon gave me these letters,” she answered, fishing the wax sealed papers from within her corset. “He said it was all ye would need to defeat the Baron. He sent me to deliver them to ye.”
Oliver took them, studying the writing.
“There is nay time for reading,” James argued. “Ye must get to safety. I will nae allow the Baron to get his hands on ye again.”
“I will show her to the safe room,” Taryn offered, “and then I will join ye.”