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“I think you should leave the lady alone,” Reeve said calmly though firmly.
The men jumped, swinging their raised swords as they turned in unison. They remained where they were, no doubt assuming one man presented no danger.
One spoke. “She’s a killer of men.”
Reeve looked from one to another. “None of you appear dead. Of course, I could be wrong, since you allstinklike rotting corpses.”
The woman smiled though she made no comment.
“There are four of us and one of you,” the thin man pointed out.
Reeve rubbed his chin and frowned. “A shame it isn’t more evenly balanced. But if you wish, I’ll wait while you get more help.”
“Are you stupid?” the heavy one asked with a snort, stepped forward, and threw his arms out wide. “I am three maybe four times your weight. I could crush you with one blow.”
Reeve was used to men underestimating his strength. He was tall and lean with muscle, whereas most Scotsmen were thick and of average height. Their misconception gave Reeve an advantage since most thought him no threat though it never took long for the poor blokes to realize their mistake.
Reeve’s hand struck out so fast that the heavy man was on the ground flat on his back with Reeve’s booted foot at his throat before he realized what had happened. Reeve kept his foot firm at the man’s throat even though he flopped around like a fish out of water, as Reeve spoke to the other three.
“Leave now, and I won’t hurt a one of you,” he told them. “Think otherwise, and your already offending stench will join that of the rotting dead.”
“We’ll split the wealth with you,” one offered, and the others nodded agreeably.
“I’ll give it all to you if you’ll help me.”
The three men turned to glare at the woman, while Reeve slipped his boot off the man’s throat, leaving him gagging for air as he stepped over him and walked to the woman’s side.
Reeve was no fool. People didn’t part with wealth that easily. He didn’t for one moment believe that if he disposed of these men, that would be the extent of it. He knew it. He could feel in his gut that she wanted more from him.
And he was curious.
“We got to her first,” the bolder of the men shouted. “She’s our prisoner, and the booty belongs to us.”
Reeve drew his sword and pointed it at the man. “The booty belongs to whoever is the strongest to take it. Are you strong enough to take it from me?”
The men huddled together, the one on the ground having finally gotten to his feet and joined them. They mumbled amongst themselves until they finally separated.
The bolder one spoke again. “How about you give us a bit of the booty, and we leave you alone.”
Reeve grinned and brandished his sword. “How about I run my sword through every one of you and leave you to rot.” With a quick step and a jab, he nicked the one fellow’s ear with the tip of his sword.
The other men stumbled back, knowing it took a skilled swordsman to perform such a feat. Most would have just lopped off the whole ear.
“Be gone with you, or I’ll cut you open and leave the animals to feast on your innards,” Reeve warned, and jutted forward, scaring the men so badly that they turned running into each other and tripping over their own feet as they scrambled to run away.
“Won’t they follow us?”
Reeve turned to the woman, her eyes steady on where the thieves had disappeared into the woods. He realized that while her voice had turned soft, her violet eyes held a hint of apprehension. “Not if they know what’s good for them.”
“But they could follow and attack—”
“Let me worry about that,” he advised, sheathing his sword. “That is, if you still wish me to help you.”
“I hope that you can help me.”
It sounded as if she pleaded, yet with courage, and Reeve admired her bravery since she truly wasn’t in any position to haggle. He could easily take what wealth she carried and be rid of her.
And so he had to ask, “Why trust me?”
