She’d seen the English duke’s men, but wearing the cloak of a commoner and having been ignored by the few people she’d seen en route to the docks, she hadn’t anticipated trouble. If a sailor carrying a large sack hadn’t stumbled into her and sent her sprawling, the knights never would have seen her.
What would the English duke’s men do with her now? After her previous escape, they wouldn’t relax their guard again.
Or would they remove any risk of her slipping free and kill her?
Marie tried to remain calm, but a sob built in her throat. She hadn’t told Colyne that she loved him. Now, she would never have the chance.
And what of her father? Had the English duke reached him? Filled him with lies? Had he begun severing financial ties to the rebels? Without France’s much-needed support, how much time would passbefore Scotland fell to English hands? Months? A year? Unless a miracle occurred, without France’s financial backing, it was only a matter of time before King Edward seized Scotland.
Angry shouts erupted in the distance
Had someone witnessed her abduction? No. By keeping a safe distance and following Colyne in the shadows, she’d ensured that.
“To arms!” a man called out, this time closer.
“Stop them!” a deeper voice called but yards away.
Hope ignited. Someone had noticed!
The knight holding her turned. Without warning, he shoved her away.
Blinded, Marie stumbled back. Steel hissed against leather at her side. A hand grabbed her. Before she could struggle, her blanket was torn away.
Colyne stood before her, his chest heaving, panic in his eyes. “Dinna move!”
The glint of his knife flashed past her face and the gag fell away. Blissful air raced into her lungs.
“Stay behind me!”
She obliged. Her hope of fleeing faded as she assessed the number of English knights around them. How could they escape?
Shouts filled the air as workers wielding daggers stormed the English duke’s men.
The Kincaid’s whistle pierced the din.
The ship couldn’t leave without her and Colyne!
Three knights charged Colyne.
He sank his blade into the nearest aggressor, turned, and with several well-aimed thrusts, dispensed of the other two. “When I tell you to, run down the alley!”
The alley? Marie glanced toward the end of the pier where several sailors were untying the mooring lines in preparation to sail. They needed to head toward the ship. If they didn’t board, they would be left behind.
From the corner of her eye, she caught Colyne wielding a defensive blow. Sweat streaked his face and his arms trembled with exhaustion. Angling his sword, he caught his next opponent’s thrust. Colyne twisted his hilt, shoved the man back, and then glanced toward her. “Go!”
“Not without you!” She searched for something she could use as a weapon, grabbed a sword lying beside a fallen knight.
One of the English duke’s knights spied her. Charged.
Her pulse racing, she raised the sword to block his blow, braced herself for the impact.
Before their blades met, her aggressor’s fierce expression twisted to shock. His weapon clattered to the wet stone and he lay unmoving, a dagger buried in his back.
A stranger with long black hair stepped from the mayhem. Ebony eyes glittered with anticipation as he retrieved his dagger from the fallen man.
“Logan,” Colyne called.
“Aye,” the stranger replied as he sheathed his blade.
