Raven trailed Landyn, keeping low. There were so many black knights. The Templar Knights had no chance of defeating them. She heard guffaws coming from the road and paused to glance back.
A gentle breeze shifted the tree branches and leaves, allowing her to see a Templar Knight on his knees in the middle of the road. A group of black-tunicked knights surrounded him. One kicked him to the ground. Another hit him with the flat edge of his sword.
He needed help. Raven rose to help him.
Landyn grabbed her arm and pulled her to another tall bush beside a tree. “Your father,” he whispered.
She glanced at Landyn. He was staring intently in another direction down the road with a frown on his brow.
She followed his stare and her stomach rolled in dread.
Her father was captured between two black clothed knights, his jaw tight with hate.
“Father,” she whispered and jerked forward, but Landyn pulled her back.
“There’s too many men,” Landyn whispered.
Raven clenched her fists. She had to get to her father and help him, but she knew Landyn was right. Still, the need to aid her father swirled inside of her like a raging tornado.
A tall man with scraggly blond hair clasped a sword in one hand. With the other, he reached out and ripped something from her father’s neck. He held it up with a smile before wrapping it around his neck and tying the cord.
Raven couldn’t see what it was, but it was obviously a necklace of some sort. She tilted her head, straining for a better look.
The man with the blond hair turned away from her father.
Raven saw an eye patch covering one of his eyes. She clenched her teeth as tension stiffened her muscles. She mentally pleaded with the eye-patched man to let her father go.
Her father scowled fiercely. Never show any fear, he had told her.
But she was fearful. She was fearful of what would happen to him.
Then, the eye-patched man whirled and plunged his sword into her father’s stomach.
Raven inhaled, her world tilting around her. “Father,” she gasped. She jerked forward to go to him, desolation cresting over her. But she couldn’t move forward.
The eye-patched man slowly withdrew his bloody sword from her father’s stomach.
The black guards released her father, and he crumpled to one knee, clutching his abdomen.
Raven trembled with disbelief and dread.
The blond-haired man sheathed his weapon. He circled her father before grabbing his chin and forcing him to look up at him. He spoke to her father.
From her position behind the trees, Raven couldn’t hear the words but saw the twisting grimace of her father’s response. Her gaze dropped to the hand wrapped around his stomach. In the darkness, she saw black liquid, her father’s blood, dripping through his fingers. Panic gripped her in an icy fist. She lurched to go to him. Again, she couldn’t move. Desperately, she looked down at her arm.
Landyn had a firm grip on her wrist, preventing her from moving. “It won’t do either of you any good if you are both killed,” he whispered.
She knew his words were true, but every instinct demanded she fight to defend her father.
Landyn’s grip tightened over her forearm.
Raven logically knew there were too many of the black-tunicked men for them to fight and live. She couldn’t win if she fought. All the Templar Knights had been overpowered. There were just too many opponents.
But it was her father. She trembled in despair. Her father had taught her to think and reason, to always remain in control of a situation. Her mind told her Landyn was correct. But every impulse she had demanded she fight for her father. Save him.
Finally, the blond-haired man shoved her father away, sending him into the mud of the road. He whirled, a dark cape flapping out behind him, and called to his men as he marched away.
Raven’s gaze flitted from the man back to her father where he lay prone on the ground. Her heart hammered in her chest. She had to reach him.
