Waterfall Page 13

  His nasally prayer came to an end, and Marcello immediately set off. I glanced at Lady Rossi, who so easily kept her seat in the saddle, and shifted, hoping to find peace with my own span of cursed leather. Maybe my rear is that much bigger than hers, I thought. The things were probably meant for size fives, not my more…curvaceous figure.

  “All is well with you, m’lady?” Luca asked, beside me.

  “Well enough,” I muttered. I glanced at him, but his eyes were already tracing the forest, alert to any attackers huddling there. I looked down the line and saw that the other sixteen knights did the same. A shiver ran down my back. I was glad for the sword in the sheath beneath my skirts.

  Let ’em come, I thought.

  But we moved on. As the hours passed and we saw no sign of any interlopers, we all relaxed a bit, enjoying the warming morning sun, the doves cooing in the dense scrub oaks. In front of me, Marcello and Lady Rossi talked, and I realized they had some semblance of an honest relationship. She smiled at something he said, and he smiled back. Maybe they were actually in love. Who was I to judge? I had no idea, really, how medieval love affairs were conducted. I thought back to the spark I’d felt the night before after I’d passed out. Had it all been my imagination, or was he a little into me? I glanced at them again. She was looking into his eyes, batting her lashes.

  I shook my head. It didn’t matter anyway. I was soon outta here.

  About an hour or more into our ride, everyone seemed to settle down. There was something about being halfway there that made us feel like we were going to be okay. A scout that Marcello had sent ahead returned, and Marcello brought our train to a halt. The man reported a clear road, no sign of the rogue bands of mercenaries nor the Paratores.

  Marcello shook his head and glanced back at Luca. “It makes no sense. The Paratores could not have missed that we are en route to Siena. They always have spies out, watching the road.”

  Luca returned his look, and then his green eyes widened. “Get down!”

  Marcello immediately ducked, as did I, instinct taking over. I could hear the singing whistle of arrows. I glanced to my left. Luca tugged me down from the saddle, using our two horses as shields. They are shooting at us, I thought distantly, as if I wasn’t in my own body. Ambush.

  The men had been covered with gray cloth, blending into the granite boulders above us. But the archers were only the first volley. They were now swarming down over the rocks, like an army of Gollums with uncanny agility. Marcello frowned at them and made a sound of frustration. He looked to Luca.

  “They purchased his loyalty,” he said, jutting his chin toward the scout, who scurried over to the boulders.

  I let out a humorless laugh. Some things never changed. For the right amount of money, one could always find a traitor.

  They were getting closer.

  Marcello looked back at me with alarm. “Can you keep your seat?”

  “What?”

  “Can you keep your seat, on your saddle?”

  “Well, yes, but—”

  “I need you to ride ahead with the women. Your only chance is to outride any that give you chase. I’ll send two men with you, but your best chance is to ride fast.”

  I nodded, not feeling it, but seeing no opportunity, really, to disagree.

  Luca tossed me back up to the saddle as Marcello did the same with Lady Rossi. They whipped our horses on the behind, and the animals lurched forward, nearly unseating me. I glanced back. Marcello and Luca were pressing through the knights and horses behind them, trying to get to the ladies, to free them, too. Our horses, sensing the urgency, were churning down the road, and from the side, I saw more men coming down the hill toward us, attempting to cut us off. “Ride hard!” I cried to Lady Rossi.

  But she was already pulling ahead, much more adept in her saddle than I. She looked back over her shoulder and screamed toward her ladies. “Make haste! Make haste!”

  I leaned down, trying to become one with my gelding and his gait and that crazy saddle, knowing speed was truly our only ally. We were more than halfway to Siena. If the forest was similar to what it was in a modern age, if it gave way to farmland outside the city gates, across rolling hills, we might reach safety sooner than I thought. Or at least someone to help us.

  The last of the men on foot missed us by a mere eight feet, roaring in dismay, but then turning to wave their arms, attempting to make the other approaching horses rear so they could capture the ladies behind us. Lady Rossi pulled up on her reins at the next bend of the road. No one came into sight. “We cannot leave them,” she sputtered, her horse prancing in a nervous circle around mine.

  “We must get to safety! There were knights with your ladies. They will do their best to protect them.”

  Still, she hesitated.

  “We do none of them any good by becoming captured as well!”

  She chewed her lips and studied me, her wide, murky brown eyelashes fluttering prettily. The pounding of hoofbeats grew closer, then, behind us.

  “M’lady,” I urged.

  In response, she lifted her reins and pressed her horse into action, as did I. One benefit of the sidesaddle, I discovered—it was easier to see both before and behind. I glanced back to see who it was, behind us.

  One lady. One Forelli knight.

  Fantastic. Hardly reinforcements. I wished it had been Marcello and Luca. Then I might have been able to breathe. But at least it was better than none. Perhaps Marcello and Luca were fast approaching too.

  We turned around another bend in the road, and I sensed Lady Rossi pulling up before I saw them. Another group of men, six of them. Two on the road, hands on their hips, two on either side. Just waiting for us. Lady Rossi’s mare again circled mine. “Come with me,” she said lowly, then pushed into the woods.

  I groaned. She had disappeared through an impossibly small gap in the trees. Bending as low as I could, well aware that men were charging up the road, toward us, I followed her, as did the lady and knight behind us.

  One of my feet caught on a tree trunk, which bent it back painfully, but I kept my seat, my eyes searching the forest for a glimpse of my leader. I ducked under one branch after another, seeing the rump of her horse, the gold of the cloth beneath her saddle.

  But then, there she was, in a clearing before me, eyes wide in frustration and fear. We were in some ancient limestone canyon, blocked on three sides by twenty-foot cliffs. I looked back. The path in was filled by the lady and the knight, who looked around and groaned as soon as he saw our predicament. We could all hear the men crashing toward us.

  “Climb, ladies,” the lone knight said. “I’ll hold them at bay. It is your only hope.”

  I had to hand it to her. I thought the girl far too prissy for such things, but Lady Rossi was immediately off her horse and shoving a dagger into her belt. Her lady assisted her to the top of the first boulder, and she turned to help her up. Okay, not as selfish as I thought, either.

  They turned to me and frantically waved me over. “Come! Make haste!”

  “Nay,” I said. “I shall assist him,” I said, gesturing over my shoulder to the knight. The first of our attackers was now just ten feet away from him. “He cannot do it alone, and if he breaks, you two will be caught as well. Climb,” I growled, rushing to my saddle.

  Lady Rossi turned and scrambled up another rock, and then another.

  “You cannot hold us off alone!” barked a Paratore knight, showing his allegiance with his crimson colors. “Surrender or die.”

  “He is not alone,” I said, heaving the ancient sword into the air. “You shall have to get through us both.”

  CHAPTER 10

  The knight beside me—I thought his name was Adolfo—used the momentary surprise of the Paratore knights to lunge forward, piercing the first man in the shoulder.

  I took
a step back, horrified by the blood that literally spurted from the gash in the man’s cloak and flesh. But then I tensed. They were attacking now, and they were seriously cranky.

  I glanced back and was relieved to see the two women, on a ledge twelve feet above us, reaching for their next perch. They were nearly to safety. At least I would die for something. Marcello needed to marry the chick for some reason.

  Maybe they’ll name their first girl after me—

  Two knights came closer to me, hands out in placating manner. “Now, this will not come to any good, m’lady,” said the first. “Womenfolk should never play with the weapons of men.”

  “Nay, they should not play with them,” I said, adopting a guilty look and pretending to agree with him. “They should learn to wield them,” I said, already circling to gain the momentum I needed, “properly,” I finished, ramming the sword into his. He had barely brought it up in time.

  I arced it upward and used the weight of it to bring it down at him again, from the other side.

  Again, he narrowly blocked my blow, eyes widening in understanding that I was no pretender. “Aww, we have a lioness here,” he sputtered in a delighted but patronizing tone, beginning his attack. He was as large as Marcello, a good four inches taller than I, and far stronger. Surprise, my temporary ally, was gone.

  “Lady Betarrini!” cried Lady Rossi, now atop the cliff, as if she could reach down and pull me up.

  “Go!” I called back in irritation. She wasted precious seconds with the theatrics. “Go for help!”

  Swords clanged behind me. Adolfo was battling two others. Two more came down the path toward us.

  “A lady, eh?” the man said, using his sword to pick up the edge of my skirt and peer beneath it.

  I slammed it away with my own.

  “No lady I’ve seen has ever had her hands on the hilt of a sword,” he sneered, his tone thick with innuendo.

  “So I’ve heard.” I turned and brought my sword around as hard as I could.

  But he was ready for me this time, blocking every one of my attempts to bring the blade down on him. I panted, my arms as weak as noodles. It was like using a fifty-pound bat.

  Noting my weariness, he surged forward, driving me back with blow after blow. I didn’t see his companion until it was too late. I barely had a chance to glance behind me when I felt his leg, blocking mine. I tumbled to the ground and the hilt of my heavy sword rammed into my thigh. I dropped it, waves of pain radiating out. The thing was so dang heavy.

  But then I saw him pulling up his own sword, as if intending to plunge it into my other leg. I cried out and rolled, hearing the sword slice through my skirts and into the dirt beneath. I tried to pull myself up, immediately realizing I was caught, but I couldn’t budge. The fabric was too thick, the sword too wide, like a massive dragon tooth, holding me in place.

  I looked up at him and saw him catch another sword from his companion. I rolled back, watching his action, preparing to dodge at just the right moment to save my other leg.

  But as he plunged downward and the sword sliced through the other side of my skirts, I realized that he never intended to stab me at all. Just my gown. I was pinned, as neatly as a butterfly on a collector’s cushion. Unable to fly away. Simply awaiting the inevitable.

  He laughed as realization must have spread across my face. So did his companion behind me. I looked past him to see Adolfo, dead, not three yards away, then to two Paratore men swiftly climbing the boulders. In minutes they’d reach the top. How long would it be until they captured Lady Rossi and her companion? How foolish of me, to believe I might truly stave off trained knights.

  Mom, Lia…I’m sorry.

  One thought gave me hope. Perhaps in death, I’d find my way home.

  But he was untying his trousers. He did not intend to kill me.

  He had darker intentions still.

  My heart picked up and anger boiled in my ears. I glanced over to my sword, just a few inches from my hand, then madly tried to think through how I could bring it up and plunge it into his creepy, black heart. But as I turned and grasped it, I could feel the rumble of the earth beneath my ear. Horses approached. Many of them. And apparently my attackers didn’t know it. They seemed to be preoccupied…with me.

  The rogue laughed at my move and hurried over to wrestle the weapon easily from my grasp. “Tie her hands,” he said to the other man. “She has some fight left in her. We’ll use her sword to secure her arms above her head.”

  I wrestled against the other man, but he was wiry and strong, easily capturing my hands beneath his legs, then tying my wrists together in seconds like a cowboy wrapping a calf’s hoofs. He pulled the cord tight, and I cried out.

  They laughed, and he tugged my arms above my head. My first attacker drove my sword into the ground just above my head. Tied as my hands were, and pinned by the sword, I was defenseless.

  That was when they charged into the clearing. I closed my eyes as dust billowed up from beneath horse hooves, wondering if I might be trampled, but then men’s boots landed in the dirt and swords clanged.

  My attacker pulled his sword from one side, but I remained pinned by the other. I rolled, hoping to not get trampled by man or beast, and clenched my eyes shut, praying the first real prayer I had ever prayed. The first prayer I felt. Please God, please God, please God…

  I had no idea how long the fight went on. But then I could hear more tearing as the second sword was pulled from my skirts, and my sword was heaved from the ground and laid at my side. I pulled my aching shoulders downward and dared to look at my rescuer.

  Marcello knelt above me, mouth and eyes grim, and swiftly untied my wrists, rubbing them to urge circulation back into them. I let out a gasp of relief, and then I was weeping, crying like a five-year-old that had just been hit by a car but discovered she was all right.

  “Oh, Marcello,” I said through my tears, rising to my knees and throwing my arms around him. “Thank you. Thank you, thank you.”

  After a moment’s hesitation, he reached his arms around me and patted me awkwardly. It was then that I realized how awkward this sort of action was. He wasn’t a kid at school who had just fought off a bully. He was a knight. A lord. A prince, of sorts.

  Betrothed to someone else.

  I leaned back and hurriedly wiped my face of the embarrassing tears. “Forgive me, m’lord. I forgot myself.”

  He studied me for a moment, the compassion in his eyes making him all the more enticing, and then reached out a hand, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear.

  “Do not give it a thought, m’lady. You have borne much.” He ducked his head and sought my eyes again. “But where are Lady Rossi and her companion?”

  Ahh, so he only wanted to know where his intended bride had gone. Why did that bring me a pang of jealousy? It only made sense.…

  “Two men were chasing them,” I said. “Over there, they climbed the rocks.”

  “Lady Rossi climbed?” he said incredulously.

  I nodded, dragging my eyes from the bodies of the four soldiers who had been cut down by Forelli men. My attackers. And those that had pursued Lady Rossi.

  “More than one woman has surprised you this day, m’lord,” Luca said.

  “Indeed.” He looked at me, hard. “No other knights reached the top? They alone reached safety?”

  “Only them,” I said, nodding. “You cut down those that pursued them.”

  “It is unlikely any of the Paratores would’ve given them chase, m’lord,” Luca said. “Chances are they’re in the care of a shepherd’s family by now.”

  “Go and make certain of it.”

  Luca moved off immediately.

  Marcello stood and reached down to me. “M’lady? Can you rise?”

  “Of course,” I said in irritation, hurrying to my feet. But a
s soon as I straightened, I cried out, feeling the pain radiate from my thigh again.

  “M’lady!” Marcello said. “You are injured? I saw no blood.” He looked back to the dirt where I had lain, his face a mask of confusion.

  I took a step, stumbled, nearly fell, but Marcello caught me and picked me up in his arms.

  “Marcello—m’lord, there truly is no need.”

  “I will not let it rest until you tell me what has happened. Were you…were we too late?”

  “No. Nay!” I cried, figuring out what he meant. And the question brought back all those terrible moments, so recently lived. “Please, let me go,” I said, squirming in his arms. “Unhand me!” It was far too intimate, and my mind and heart were a mash of jumbled emotions and thoughts.

  I needed space to think.

  Gently, he set me down where I could partially sit upon a boulder. “What transpired? Out with it.”

  I grimaced at him. “They tripped me. When I fell to my back, the hilt of my sword came ramming down into my thigh. I think I have a bruised muscle. Nothing that won’t heal in a few days.” Can we stop making such a big whoppin’ deal of it?

  A hint of a smile touched his lips. “I told you a sword is dangerous in the wrong hands. But I must confess I was thinking of the blade.”

  “Unfair!” I cried, in defense. “It’s heavy!”

  He lifted his hands in surrender, laughing to himself.

  Yeah, yeah, yuk it up, I thought. I sustained this injury saving your chick.

  I was angry for a moment, until I thought of how he and his men had arrived just in time to save me. It didn’t matter, really. We were all relieved that it was over. “How many men did you lose?” I finally asked.

  “Five. And Lady Rossi’s other lady-in-waiting suffered a grave wound.”

  I groaned. “An arrow?”