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Jemma’s thoroughbred easily out-distanced the pursuing soldiers until they were well out of her sight. But even then she didn’t stop running, afraid that at any second they would somehow be nipping at her heels.

The horse’s flanks were coated with sweat as she pounded the endless miles to Northwood, her mind filled with terror. She was not used to fear or defeat and the knowledge that her cousin and uncle had been captured by the enemy tore at her until she groaned aloud in despair. Dear God, she had to find help for them.

The animal raced on and on, minute blending into hour until she had lost all track of time. Jemma had clutched so tightly to the reins and the mane that she imagined her hands had become a physical part of the animal. She had lost her cap way back and her black hair streamed out behind her as she raced like the wind. She was exhausted and out-of-control with apprehension.

Yet somewhere In the back of her mind she knew that Kieran and William were coming for them and she prayed to any god that would listen that she would come across them soon. Jordan and Uncle Thomas were in great, great danger and she was not sure how long her own strength would hold out. If she collapsed and died before she reached help, then no one would ever know the fates of Jordan and Thomas.

Their foolishness had brought them to this, hers and Jordan’s. She knew that now in hindsight, but at the time, their desperation to return home had overshadowed their fears. To risk the danger was worth the trip, they had thought. But it appeared now that the price for their attempt was far too high.

As her strength was waning, she saw something up ahead in the distance. The closer she came, the more she realized it was a caravan of some sort. Or an army.

She pushed the horse faster.

William and Kieran had seen her coming. Across the barren borders, they could see the rider approaching and they could see, even at the distance, a banner of dark hair behind her.

When the horse and rider drew closer and they could see it was Jemma, Kieran and William bailed from their destriers. Jemma showed absolutely no signs of stopping and they positioned themselves so they could reach up and physically stop the charging animal.

She ran between them like some strange gauntlet. William snatched the animals’ reins while Kieran unseated his wife, losing his balance and tumbling backward in the process. Jemma fell atop him heavily and instantly there were hands reaching down to pull her up.

Paris had her as the knights pulled Kieran to his feet. She was far gone with hysteria and panic as Kieran ripped off his helmet and grabbed her face.

“Jemma?” he demanded with tender harshness. “Sweetheart, look at me.”

William was there, his face ashen with terror. Kieran shook Jemma a bit, trying to make her focus on him.

“Jemma, sweet, ’tis me.” he said. “You are safe now. I am here and you are safe. Where is Jordan?”

Jemma slowed her gasping and screaming, gazing at her husband for the first time. Her mouth opened into a silent “O” and she dissolved into tears. William nearly went mad and Deinwald grabbed onto him to lend support.

“Jemma, sweet,” Kieran kissed her forehead. “Calm down. You are safe with us. Tell me where Jordan is.”

She was honestly trying to calm herself down but wasn’t doing a very good job. “Jordan…,” she trailed off, sobbing. “Oh, Kieran, they got her. Her and Uncle Thomas.”

William nearly collapsed but for Deinwald’s iron grip. He closed his eyes tightly, fighting off the nausea and panic that threatened him.

“Who has her, Jemma?” William’s throat was so tight he could hardly squeeze out the words.

Jemma didn’t hear him. She was still looking at Kieran. “We ran away, Jordan and me. We went home because ye wunna take us there. Uncle Thomas got mad at us and insisted on bringing us home himself.” She paused, gasping for breath. “We were near the border when dozens of soldiers chased us and I got away. They were McKenna soldiers; I saw the plaid. But I outran them.”

Everything they needed to know she told them. Jemma took a couple more gasping breaths and fainted dead away and Kieran swept her up into his arms. William pulled unsteadily away from Deinwald, already moving back toward his destrier. The knights disbanded, moving for their own mounts even as they tried to grasp the shocking news.

“We ride for McKenna Keep.” William was pale and drawn as he mounted his destrier.

“What about Jemma?” Kieran demanded.

“Give her back to Byron’s wagon,” William’s movements were harsh, abrupt. “We can spare no one to take her back to Northwood.”

She would be safe enough with Byron, although Kieran certainly was not fond of the idea of taking his wife to a battle. Yet there was no choice, and he was desperately worried for her health. Byron would take good care of her.

William’s hands were shaking as he gathered up his reins, and he took a couple of deep breaths to steady himself. He had to draw the line here and now and separate the soldier from the husband. He would do his wife no good with his wild emotions and he forced himself to split from them.

Slowly, laboriously, the soldier in him, The Wolf, took control until his hands ceased to shake and he could think a bit more clearly. He resigned himself to the fact that the worst had happened and now he must remedy it. The sooner he dealt with it, the better for them all.

He had nearly a thousand seasoned soldiers and knights depending on him. He was The Wolf, and only The Wolf could save Lady Jordan. William the quivering husband must be put out of his misery, for the moment. Steady yourself, man, or you are all dead.

“Paris!” he suddenly boomed. “Send out the scouts. I want a path to McKenna Keep and a status report on the surrounding areas.”

“Aye, my lord,” Paris replied, turning to bark out the orders.