“I ken,” he hissed back, before raising his voice so they could hear. “I am tellin’ ye,” he growled to the men who were drawing ever closer. “Ye dinnae want to come any further. If ye let us pass, I’ll let ye live.”
“It is ye who should be worried about yer life,” one of the men said, his voice as slick as oil. “Ye and whatever pretty little lass is in that carriage of yers.”
They’re nae goin’ to let us pass. We’re goin’ to die.
An unintelligible growl tore from Arthur’s throat. Fear surged through Marissa, her hair standing on end as bile rose in the back of her throat. But she didn’t have time to consider her fear. Her betrothed sprang into action.
In one swift movement, Arthur reached down, pulling a battle axe from below the driver’s seat. With a battle cry, he jumped down from the carriage.
He’d moved so quickly that the men had barely had time to react before he was on them. Marissa watched, her heart hammering wildly, as he reached them in a split second.
The man he was closest to hadn’t had time to raise his sword before Arthur swung his axe. Blood sprayed as it cleaved the man’s head from his shoulders.
It hit the ground with a thud, rolling down the gentle slope off the side of the road and into the brush at the edge of the woods.
Marissa felt as if she was going to be sick. Still, she could not look away.
The two remaining men shared a glance, seeming to reconsider their options. But that spare second they took to look at each other would cost one of them their life.
Arthur, battle-hardened as he was, moved forward with fury and precision that Marissa would have thought beautiful under different circumstances. Even now, as he swung his axe again, his muscles flexing impressively beneath his shirt, she still found herself transfixed.
It was almost like a dance, the way he connected with his axe like it was his arm.
With a swift swipe, a large, wide gash crossed another one of the bandits’ stomachs. A cry of anguish filled the air.
Marissa pressed a hand to her mouth, unable to stop the muffled cry that escaped her as she watched the man’s innards tumble through his fingers. He hit his knees, staring in surprise up at Arthur before the light faded entirely from his eyes. A second later, he slumped to the ground.
The final bandit stood. He’d used the time his friends’ fought with Arhur to ready himself. For the first time, when Arthur swung his blade, it was met with another weapon.
Please let Arthur win this. Please let him survive.
She was shocked at the fear coursing through her. Not because of the fear itself. Marissa figured being afraid during a situation like this was quite natural. But it was the fear for Arthur that caught her off guard.
It’s only because I ken what these bandits do to ladies when they find them, that’s all.
She watched with a knot in her stomach as the bandit fought back. Of the three that had advanced on Arthur, he was the only one that had put up a fight.
This entire time, she had only been able to see Arthur’s back. But as he and the remaining bandit danced around, swinging and parrying blows, his face moved into her view.
Shock rocketed through her.
Arthur did not look afraid. He did not look angry. He did not look as if he felt any of the emotions that she would have expected in a situation such as this.
No. Arthur’s face was lit with a feral, primal delight. He fought as if he had been born to do it.
Although the bandit was fighting back, he clearly was not as skilled as Arthur. And soon, fatigue began to show in the man’s movements.
Arthur’s eyes gleamed as he realized it too.
He’s toyin’ with him like a cat toys with a mouse.
Just as Marissa thought the words, the bandit let out a guttural growl. He swung his sword in a wild arc that Arthur easily dodged.
Arthur’s feral grin grew even wider, spreading such that it looked like it would split his cheeks. Just as the bandit’s guard dropped from not landing his blow, Arthur swung.
His axe hit the man’s chest with a solid, horrifying thud.Even from a distance, Marissa could hear the gurgle of the man’s dying breath as Arthur withdrew his axe and the bandit fell to his knees.
Her heart was still racing, even though the danger had now passed. She watched for a split second as Arthur walked forward.His chest was heaving as he reached down, using one of the bandits’ kilts to wipe the blood from his axe.
