Chapter Four
Luke didn’t have time to argue with Nessa. He jogged back toward the fighting, barely keeping from running, so she could keep up with him. His men were facing Urien’s men. He had to be there to battle with them, but his mission was top most to see Nessa safe. He held her hand tightly. The darkness made it difficult for him to move too quickly. He had to watch for low branches and bushes. He didn’t want Nessa to get hurt. Slowly, silence descended over the forest once again. No more clangs of crossing swords echoed in the air. No more shouts of agony.
He slowed his step as anxiety gripped him, and he eventually came to a stop. They had to be close to the battle. He listened for movement; listened for a groan. How could it be over? He had four, well-trained knights with him! They must have retreated. There could be no other reason the fighting stopped so suddenly.
“Luke,” Nessa whispered.
“Shh,” he snapped. He didn’t want her to give away their location to whoever was out there.
She grabbed the edge of his chest armor and tugged. He looked at her. She was pointing to the ground near their feet. He followed her gesture to see a sword glimmering dully on the forest floor. Luke bent down to inspect the weapon. It was difficult to see in the darkness, but he managed to recognize the handle. The elaborate cross and florentine carved into it could only be from Sir Robert’s sword. The clouds opened and moonlight from the half-moon fell over the small clearing. Luke lifted his gaze.
A man lay on his side, unmoving, not far from where he squatted. Luke stood, recognizing the tunic over the man’s chainmail. Sir Robert. Luke’s gaze swung around the clearing. Two more of his men lay, dead. He recognized Lord Tristan’s heraldry on their tunics. Stunned, Luke could not move. There was only one other man lying on the ground in leather armor. He must have been one of Urien’s men. It had been a massacre.
Whatever had happened was over now. He carefully eyed the clearing, but saw no further movement. Still, one could not be too careful. “Wait here,” Luke told Nessa. This time, she didn’t argue. He moved forward, until he stood over Sir Robert. He eased him over onto his back. He had seen death many times, but never grew used to it. Sir Robert’s eyes were half-open, his lips wide in a final gasp. There was no reason to check if he was alive. Luke moved to the next man, and then the last, making sure each was gone and there was nothing he could do for them. When he had finished, he stood and looked at his fallen men. Three. One man was missing. Sir Ernest. Had they taken him captive? How had they gotten the upper hand on his men? They were trained fighters. Luke shook his head as guilt assailed him. He should have been there to fight with them. They were his men, his responsibility. As his gaze swept the field, he saw Nessa standing near a tree across from him. Her hair glowed in the moonlight. She looked small standing beside the large tree in the field. He crossed to her side.
“Are these my father’s men?” she whispered.
“They came with me to save you.”
She met his gaze, horrified.
He pulled her into his embrace, holding her. “We’ll get away,” he whispered.
She pulled free of his hold, unable to meet his gaze. “We should go now.”
He nodded his agreement. She shouldn’t be looking at such a brutal sight. It was not meant for the eyes of the innocent. Luke took her hand and turned away, beginning to lead her back through the forest, his senses on alert. Urien and his men were out there. How had this happened? Luke hadn’t seen a camp, so they must have found his men somehow. Or perchance his men attacked them. Luke didn’t know; the only thing he was certain of was that he had to get Nessa home. But now they had no horse, no men to help protect her. He was all she had. It was going to be a long, dangerous a trip.
They moved quietly through the forest, darkness encompassing them. Nessa tried to keep up with Luke, holding her skirt up as she trailed him. Her mind continued to return to the dead men she had seen in the clearing. They came to save you. Luke’s words rang in her head. And now they were dead. Just like the guards that had accompanied her and Mel into the village. Is that what would happen to Luke? Why hadn’t her father come? He must have sent Luke, but why didn’t he lead a raid? She held no illusions. Mel had always been his favorite. But still, she thought he would come to save her, too. I’m glad he didn’t, she told herself. He might have gotten killed. “Where is father’s army?”
Luke didn’t answer.
“Why didn’t more knights come to fight Urien?”
“I only brought five. I thought a sneak attack better. The rest of the men are at the castle protecting it.”
“Protecting it from Urien’s men?”
“No. From his father’s.”
Nessa scowled. His father would not attack the castle. Not for Urien. He had disowned him years ago. Didn’t Luke know? She opened her mouth to ask him, but Luke continued.
“Why was Urien going this way?”
“He was going to the caves.”
Luke stopped and faced her. “Why?”
Caught off guard, Nessa met his gaze and shrugged. “He believes the legend. Remember the legend? If you put your hand on the stain --”
“Yes. I remember.”
Color rose on her cheeks and she looked away. She and Luke had put their hands on the stain. She had always thought, no wished, that the legend was true. But Luke had eyes only for Mel. “It’s a silly legend, anyway.”
Luke started through the forest again.
Nessa followed. “I saw a boulder near a stream. I think we can hide there until father comes.”
Luke shook his head. “No hiding. We’ll have to make it back to the castle on our own. Are you up to that?”
