For the first time in the encounter, Sage attacked, swinging her sword at him. He leaned away from her parries, and her blade hissed through the air in a semicircle, inches from his chest. She thrust, and he dodged to the side, bringing his sword up toward her neck.
She stepped back, avoiding the tip of his blade.
They circled one another. Sage breathed deeply. She admired his skill. But this was child’s play. They were testing each other.
He lunged in, and she knocked his blade aside. She pushed forward with a cache of swings until she was close enough to hook her foot behind his. When he stepped back, he tripped and fell flat onto his back.
Standing over him, Sage put the tip of her weapon to his neck.
He grinned from his position on the ground. “Impressive.” He brought his blade up, pushing hers away, and rolled to his feet, bringing his weapon up before him.
Sage held her sword with two hands, unmoving. He was good. She would give him that. But she wanted to escape with the book. Playtime was over. She attacked, driving forward.
He knocked her sword aside and deflected each of her blows, answering with his own.
It was a dance of death, a dance of skill. Thrusting and parrying. Swords rang out through the forest like the beat of a drum.
Sage retreated to a tree trunk and ducked his swing. It lodged in the bark above her head, and she spun away. He pulled the weapon free and continued after her with a flurry of strikes.
She knocked them away, using a two-handed grip on the handle of her weapon for more strength. She pushed one of his arcs aside, and he stumbled. Perchance over a branch or stone, she didn’t know which. He backed into the trunk of a tree. She quickly stepped in close, placing the side edge of her blade to his neck.
Time froze. Her arm was bent, so the sharp side of the blade pressed against his throat.
She had him.
She won.
His gaze moved over her face.
She was so near to him that their bodies were touching, and Sage could feel the heat radiating from him. She held the blade to his neck, breathing deeply. She was suddenly aware of how close they were, how her breasts brushed his chest. Even through her armor, her nipples tingled and hardened. Her gaze swept his face. From his deep blue eyes to his sensual lips. She swallowed in a suddenly dry throat.
“Well done,” he said.
His voice was a husky whisper. And still, she did not move away from him. She had won! What was she doing? Escape! She pushed the blade tighter against his throat.
He cocked his head slightly. “Always know how many weapons your opponent has on him.”
She felt a slight pressure against her side, just below her armor, and looked down. He pointed a small dagger at her ribcage. Surprise and realization and finally, grudging admiration washed over her. She stepped back and lowered her sword. He was well trained. Skilled. And so very handsome.
Shocked at the thought, Sage retreated another step. But now that the thought was in her mind, she suddenly noticed his blond hair hanging in curls to the nape of his neck and marveled at just how blue his eyes were. They sparkled as if some kind of rare gem.
She scoffed at herself. What did she care how blue his eyes were? Would that help her decode the book? She should only care that he had ruthlessly killed Brother Nicolas and kidnapped her. Not how blue his eyes were, or the way his tunic fit over his chest and arm muscles.
He sheathed his sword and returned to the horse.
Sage looked down at her weapon. She could have escaped. It had been her chance. Disgusted at herself, she slid her sword into its scabbard. What would Raven say? Disappointment sagged her shoulders. She could have escaped with the book.
At least she had a plan. She reached inside the pocket of her breeches and pulled out a small piece of parchment. She dropped it on the ground near a pile of leaves. Her sisters would know they had come this way.
Unwillingly, her gaze followed his path and covertly watched him as he dug in one of the bags. She might be unhappy about her lost opportunity to escape, but at least she had something to distract her. And what a distraction he was.
