The time.
The place.
The circumstance.
Loud splatters of cold rain continued to pound the earth, a potent reminder that naught had changed. They needed to leave before the knights returned. “Lass, we must somehow make our way across.”
“Will we use the fallen tree?”
He followed her nervous gaze toward a large oak caught in the churning torrent that straddled the banks. Though it extended the entire width of the burn, its angle, along with the amount of water spilling over the trunk, made using the downed tree too treacherous. “Nay. We will have to go back, find another shelter, and wait until—”
Loud shouts had Colyne glancing over his shoulder. With a curse, he shoved his way into the protective cover of bushes, pulling Alesia with him. As he peered through the tangle of branches, two mounted knights rode into view. Both shielded their faces against the wind and rain as they followed the water’s edge.
“They have caught their horses!” she whispered.
“Aye.” He unsheathed his dagger.
The men rode closer until they were almost upon them. “ ’Tis a fool’s lot,” the nearest rider shouted as he guided his steed around the jagged remains of a barren stump.
“It is,” the second knight agreed, riding at his side. “A braying ass would not be out in this foul weather.” He guided his mount toward the collapsed portion of the bank, gave a quick look down, and then reined him away. “Unlike us, they have probably fled south and are sheltered from this misery.”
“It matters not if they are on the run or have taken refuge,” the other man stated. “We will be doing our duty and keeping to our rounds.” His horse whinnied as they rode up the incline, the whip of wind stealing away any further bits of their conversation.
Once the guards rode out of sight, Colyne sheathed his dagger.So much for retracing their steps.The coldness of the ground seeped into his throbbing shoulder as he glared at the fallen tree. “We are going to have to try to cross using the oak.” He laced his fingers through hers. “Ready?”
Though fear clouded her eyes, she gave him a fragile smile.“Oui.”
Pride at her bravado surged through him. Aye, she was a rare lass indeed, especially one cut from the gentry. He stood, pulling her with him, and ran toward the rush of water.
Her body trembling with exhaustion, Marie kept pace with Colyne. Frustrated by the turn of events, questions of her kidnapping resurfaced. How had the English duke known her whereabouts or executed her abduction with such seamless accuracy? Of the many scenarios she’d considered, the only thing that made sense was that someone within her father’s trusted circle was involved.
“We will climb on the tree here,” Colyne said, breaking into her thoughts. “I will go first.” He grasped a root and made his way to the top of the trunk. Frustration lined his brow as he helped her up. “I am sorry. If we could go another—”
“But we cannot” she interrupted, “so let us cross.”
“Aye.” He edged along the tree’s gnarled length.
With the raging water filling the air, she followed.
Halfway across, as if by a miracle, the rain ceased, but the strong winds continued. Waves broke over the surface, the foam-edged tips spewed by the gusts.
“Be careful,” Colyne warned as he moved steadily forward.
Nerves prickled along her skin as she forged through the surge of water spilling over the trunk. Careful to keep her balance, Marie scoured the woods in their wake.
No guards.
When Colyne reached the end of the trunk where thinning, leaf-filled branches remained, his troubled gaze met hers. “The limbs are too weak to hold us. We must wade to shore.”
The strong current tugged at her legs. She nodded.
He bent a limb back for her to grab, and she noticed his wince of pain. “Hold on to this.”
Marie clasped the branch.
As he slid in, water rose to his chest. He clung to one of the thicker branches and then reached up. “Interlock your fingers with mine.”
She wedged her foot against a limb. As she leaned toward him, debris caught within the powerful current and plowed into the trunk.
