Page 81 of The Noble Servant

Magdalen picked her way through the darkness, trying to avoid brushing against the wet limb of a beech tree. She heard a rustling in the bushes beside her. Was it another badger? Badgers could be aggressive. She certainly did not want to make one angry.

Suddenly, a man loomed beside her. Two hands came toward her face. Before she could scream, hard fingers clamped over her mouth, gouging into her face.

Her heart pounded painfully hard. She clawed at the man’s hands.

He growled in her ear, “Cease that or I’ll slap you.” He shook her so hard she couldn’t see for a moment.

If only she could scream, Steffan would come and save her. But the man’s hand over her mouth made it impossible.

Terror like liquid heat seeped into her veins. What would this man do to her? Was he one of Lord Hazen’s men? He would surely take her to Lord Hazen and torture her to force her to tell them where Steffan was hiding.

The man chuckled in her ear. “Lord Hazen never said I couldn’t have a little fun with you before I take you to him.”

She started fighting him again, raking her fingernails over his hands and arms.

The man let out a yelp. Just as his grip on her face relaxed, something solid slammed against her temple. Her whole body, bereft of strength, melted as everything went black.

Steffan hurried through the wet brush. Was he going in the right direction? He started to call out her name when he heard a man’s voice speaking low. It sounded threatening. He headed toward it. Two figures standing very close emerged up ahead. One was a large man and the other was a woman.

His heart crashed against the wall of his chest. Magdalen was struggling against the man’s grip on her face. The man slammed his fist against her head, and she went still.

Steffan charged forward, his sword raised over his head.

The man dropped Magdalen’s limp body on the ground and drew his sword. Steffan struck, but the man blocked his blade. Steffan struck again and again, beating him back.

Ice flowed through Steffan’s veins as he was reminded of the last time he’d wielded his sword. He fought for his life then, and now he fought for Magdalen’s. He could not let this man go back to Lord Hazen and his men. He could not allow him to escape. And after what he saw him do to Magdalen, he had no desire to.

Steffan used both hands and struck his most powerful blow. The man lost his footing and his balance. As he fell he tried to stab Steffan in the stomach. When he did, he left his upper body unprotected, and Steffan plunged his sword through his enemy’s heart.

The man stared up from the ground. His hand shook, then loosened. His sword dropped and he lay unmoving.

Steffan pulled his sword free of the man’s chest. Then he hurried over to Magdalen and fell to his knees beside her.

Chapter Twenty-Eight

The water on the cold ground was seeping through her borrowed clothes. Magdalen groaned at the pain in her head. Someone was putting an arm under her shoulders. Then she remembered the guard who struck her in the head. She opened her eyes, clenching her hands into fists and tensing her whole body.

“Magdalen.”

“Steffan!” A sob caught in her throat and sounded like a squeak.

“It’s all right now. That man is dead.” He leaned over her, a dark but welcome shadow. One arm was underneath her shoulders, and his other arm slid under her knees. He lifted her as if she were no heavier than an armload of firewood.

Her hands slipped around his shoulders. They just naturally seemed to fit there. In the barest bit of moon- and starlight, she could see the intense look on his face as he carried her through the brush and trees. How thankful she was that he had come. To be safe and warm in his arms, when she might have been brutalized by that terrible man.

He stepped over the fallen tree and into the mine. Then he set her gently on the floor and knelt beside her. “Are you all right?”He moved her hair away from her face. “You have a big bump on your head.”

She couldn’t take her eyes off his face, even though she could barely make out anything more than his outline. She should say something. Instead, she shuddered, still feeling that man’s hands on her mouth, his hot breath in her ear. Was she truly safe? Steffan said he killed him.

“Magdalen? Are you all right? Did he hurt you?”

By his tone she knew he meant a different kind of hurt than the bruise on her head.

“Nein.”Her voice was so raspy as to be barely audible. She swallowed and tried again. “He didn’t hurt me.” She bit her lip to keep it from trembling, trying hard not to start sobbing. If Steffan had not come, that man would have done unspeakable things.

Her head ached, but that was nothing compared to the way her heart squeezed.

A tear, followed by another and another, spilled down her face.