“I’ve never had a brother before.”
Gabe tightened his grip around her waist. He seemed so intent on getting them as far away from the castle as quickly as he could, she wasn’t sure if he’d even heard what she’d said. But then he pulled on the big horse’s reins and stopped.
“Sorry, but I have to let you down for a moment. Can you stand?”
She nodded.
He let Sophie slip off the saddle, then he dismounted and stepped toward a half-fallen-down wooden structure amongst the trees. Sophie watched curiously as he went inside then came back out with a large leather pouch and a crossbow he slung over his back by a strap around his shoulder.
Tall, with his head high and a grim, determined glint in his eye, he looked quite capable of keeping her safe.
He strapped the leather pouch tightly to the back of the saddle, next to a cloth bundle she hadn’t noticed earlier. “Where did you get that?”
“The cook handed it to me as I was leaving. I hope it’s full of food.” He helped Sophie back on to the horse, then hauled himself up to sit behind her once more.
Knowing Petra, the bundle was filled with food, the kind that would not spoil on a long journey. Petra always did like to show her love by feeding people.
They pressed onward once more. She was nestled against Gabe’s chest again — not an unpleasant place to be at all, she discovered. With his arm circling her waist, she felt safe.
“Gabe, does the duchess know you’re helping me? Will her guards be after us?”
“I hope she thinks I’m still in her dungeon, and that you’re dead. It could buy us some time, because as soon as she finds me gone, she’ll send her guards. And she may wonder if you’re still alive when she discovers Lorencz has disappeared.”
“Did he leave?”
“Yes. The way he took off, I don’t think he’ll be back.”
“Good. I never want to see him again.” Sophie suppressed a shudder as she pictured his face again just before he smashed her head against the tree. “How did you get out of the dungeon?”
“Lorencz. He let me out.”
“Oh.” Perhaps Lorencz was repentant. She hoped so. For his sake.
They’d been traveling since before midday, and the sun had already sunk behind a peak at his left shoulder. Gabe pushed Gingerbread to get as far away from Hohendorf as possible before nightfall. The duchess had probably discovered him missing by now. If so, her guards could easily catch up to them at any minute. Then again, they would probably have some trouble tracking them, since Gabe and Sophie hadn’t followed a trail, just headed in a general northerly direction. Every so often they encountered the small river that wound north and south through the mountains and forests. Whenever Gabe saw it, he knew he was going in the right direction.
Gabe was all too aware of the way Sophie felt in his arms. He kept reminding himself that she belonged to Valten, and he conjured up Brittola’s face often — as often as he started enjoying the trusting way Sophie leaned her head against his chest, the silkiness of her hair brushing his chin.
But she thought of him as a brother. And that’s just what he was, for she and Valten would be married as soon as he could get her back to Hagenheim.
It was a long way to Hagenheim, about seven days. His heart sank a bit as he thought about just how far it was. Petra had said the “Cottage of the Seven” was three days’ ride to the north. He wasn’t sure what this cottage was, but she had said it was a safe place. In three days, they would probably be in desperate need of food and a comfortable place to sleep. Sophie surely wasn’t used to sleeping outdoors, and he had precious few supplies with him. Although he doubted Sophie would complain. She had lived too hard a life to bemoan a few days of living off the land.
She was different from any other girl he had ever met.
But he couldn’t let his thoughts about Sophie distract him from his purpose, which was to keep her alive and deliver her to Valten, her betrothed. With two people on one horse, the going was slow, and if he didn’t focus, they might end up back in Hohendorf — or dead.
The terrain was getting rougher. They would have to pass through some mountains in order to get to Lower Saxony and Hagenheim. They were now on a narrow trail that led them through a valley that had fewer trees than the mountainside and was parallel to another valley where a river lay. They had only stopped briefly to let the horse rest and get a drink of water, but they hadn’t eaten, and Gabe knew they would have to soon. Sophie must be as exhausted as he was, but she hadn’t said a word. Neither of them had spoken much, in fact.
A forest-covered mountain lay just ahead, and the trail was already ascending again. They couldn’t camp here in the open expanse of the valley where there was almost no foliage. It was too dangerous. Perhaps after they got to the other side of the mountain they would find a sheltered spot. It would be a cool night, unfortunately, but they would have to do without a fire. With all the wolves around, he would try to sleep sitting up, with his crossbow in his lap.
Sophie had gone limp, her head bobbing on his chest. She must have fallen asleep. He forced himself to focus on the trail, which had grown slippery with wet, moldy leaves that covered the path as it grew steeper. Gingerbread was surefooted for such a big beast, but he was slipping more often than not, and Gabe hoped the trail would soon level off.
Just then, Gabe heard a crisp whoosh and felt something hit, hard, against the crossbow strapped across his back.
He turned his head and saw the butt of an arrow sticking out behind him.
If not for the heavy wood and iron of his crossbow, the arrow would have gone right through his body.
Chapter
9
Gabe kicked his heels into his horse’s sides as he turned his head again and saw his foe. Through a break in the trees, a man on horseback raced across the valley they had just left. He would close in on them in no time.
Gabe urged Gingerbread to hurry, but speed only seemed to make his hooves slip even more on the steep hillside.
If the man following them was using a crossbow, he’d have to stop to reload. But if he was firing at them with a longbow, he could keep shooting. Gabe couldn’t risk looking behind again, but he’d soon know.
Another arrow whooshed by his ear. Longbow. God help us. Gabe leaned lower, pressing Sophie securely between his arms as he held onto the reins with both hands. She lifted her head and looked up at him, wide awake now. She leaned her head to one side to look behind him, but he pushed her back in front of him. “Someone’s shooting at us. You’d better move your arms.”
Another arrow whistled by. Sophie jerked her left arm and gasped. She tucked her arm against her stomach, a flash of bright red on her torn sleeve.
They had to get out of the valley, had to find cover, or they would be dead in a matter of minutes. Not to mention that their pursuer could hit Gingerbread, may have already wounded him.
Gabe prodded Gingerbread off the trail, and they plunged between trees, dodging limbs. Gabe kept Sophie snug between his body and the horse’s neck.
He sensed the animal’s nervousness at their breakneck speed between dangerously close tree trunks. They continued their climb up the mountain, but at a more manageable angle. Gingerbread was slipping less now, but sometimes the tree limbs were coming at him so fast Gabe couldn’t see where they were going.
God, please guide this horse.
They were crashing through the woods with such noise, their pursuer couldn’t fail to hear exactly where they were if he stopped to listen. But it couldn’t be helped. Until Gabe could find a likely place for them to hide.
He glanced down at Sophie’s arm. The red stain was growing bigger, but there was no arrow sticking out of the wound. That was good. Perhaps it had only grazed her.
Gabe glanced around, frantically looking for someplace they could take refuge. He tried to listen, to detect how far behind them their attacker was — or attackers, since he wasn’t sure how many there were — but he couldn’t hear
anything except Gingerbread’s crashing hooves as he smashed through dead limbs. Green boughs were pushed aside by the horse’s powerful shoulders. Gabe was thankful he had taken Gingerbread, his destrier, rather than the smaller gelding in his father’s stable who would have tired much more easily with two riders on his back.
Just in front of him, Gabe glimpsed a ravine. He couldn’t see the bottom of it, and it pitched almost straight down, but it might be their only escape.
He steered the horse toward the edge. Gingerbread hesitated only a moment, then stepped off. Immediately his hooves began to slide. Had Gabe made a mistake? Gabe and Sophie leaned to the left as the horse’s body leaned precariously to the right. All four of his hooves were sliding down the steep, leaf-covered embankment. The horse began to fight for footing. Gabe let go of the reins and wrapped both his arms around Sophie as the horse began to topple over.
Gabe yanked his right leg up and pulled Sophie with him to the left, barely escaping being pinned underneath the huge horse. Gabe’s feet hit the ground, almost gently, as the horse came out from under him and slid helplessly down the steep bank, struggling to get to his feet all the while.
Gabe set Sophie on her feet, not aware that he had been holding her completely off the ground until that moment. She clung to his neck, her eyes wide. Then Gabe grabbed her hand and they headed down into the deep ravine, into darkness, after his tumbling horse.
Sophie held tight to Gabe’s hand as they hurried down the steep hill, their feet slipping and sliding. Sophie fell to one hip but jumped back to her feet, following Gabe down into the dark ravine.
God, please help us escape. She knew Gabe was hoping their attacker wouldn’t realize they’d come down this way, and it did seem like a good place to hide. But it also seemed a likely place for a bear’s den or a wolf’s lair. Only God knew what they would find at the bottom.
Below them, Gabe’s horse was finally able to halt his fall and scramble to his feet. He stood shaking his big head, his mane flopping around his massive neck. Gabe pulled Sophie down the hill and around the other side of the horse, putting the animal’s body between them and the top of the ravine and their would-be killer. Then he let go of her hand and smoothly pulled his crossbow over his shoulder. He yanked out the arrow that was stuck in the wood stock and threw it to the ground. Then he opened the pack that was strapped to the back of the horse’s saddle, which had miraculously not been lost in the fall, and slipped out an arrow. He stepped on the drawstring of the bow and fitted the arrow into place. Lifting the crossbow to his shoulder, and using the horse as a shield, he peered over the horse’s back and up to the top of the ravine.
Sophie looked up, but they had gone so far down, she couldn’t quite make it out in the descending darkness of twilight.
Something tickled her arm. She looked down and realized it was a trickle of blood running down and dripping off her elbow. She would examine the wound later.
Gabe was staring up, an intent look on his face, as he kept his finger on the trigger of his crossbow. Sophie knew, if ever there were a time to pray, it was now. God, please let the man — or men — pass us by. Help us stay hidden.
Gabe rested the crossbow on the horse’s back while he waited. Sophie held her breath. Then she heard the sound of horse’s hooves on leaves and sticks, the rustle of branches. It came closer, sounding as if it were just above them, just out of her vision. Then she saw movement, at the top of the ravine, though it was too dark to tell who or what caused it. Gabe held the crossbow up and stared down the stock of the partly wood-partly metal contraption. A deadly looking metal projectile was ready to fire at their enemy.
Gabe’s horse sidestepped nervously, so Sophie rubbed his neck and softly hummed. She didn’t dare speak aloud.
Gradually, the noise of what she assumed was a horse and rider became fainter and fainter. He hadn’t seen them in the ravine. They were safe — at least for the moment.
Gabe eased the crossbow away from his shoulder, turned, and looked at Sophie. “Are you all right?” he whispered. “Let me see your arm.” He set the crossbow down on the ground. With one step, he closed the gap between them and took her arm in his hands.
“We need to find water.”
“Water?”
He nodded. “Gingerbread needs water, and this wound needs to be washed and covered.”
He held her arm close to his face, examining it, but it was so covered in blood, and the ravine was so dark, she doubted he could see the actual wound. He pulled a knife from his belt, which he had retrieved earlier from his saddlebag, and cut off her sleeve where it had been torn by the arrow, at her elbow. Then, with a grim look, he wrapped the scrap of sleeve tightly around her bloody forearm. It had hurt before, but now it throbbed.
She thought it strange that he was concerned about washing the wound, but she didn’t ask him about it.
“We need to go,” he said brusquely, seeming somehow older than he had when she met him yesterday, and certainly more grim. He went to place his hands on her waist to lift her up, but she stepped back, bumping into the horse.
“Wait. First I need to …”
They had drunk the last of the water in Gabe’s flask an hour or two before, and now she needed some privacy for a few moments.
Understanding dawned on his face. He simply nodded and pointed to the nearest tree. “I won’t look.” He turned his back to her.
Sophie hurried to hide herself behind the tree and some bushes. When she was done, a growling sound just behind her made the hair on the back of her neck stand up. She froze in place, wishing she had imagined the sound, but then it came again.
She itched to turn around and see what was behind her, but she doubted that was wise. Slowly, she put one foot in front of the other and walked back toward Gabe, who was facing her with his crossbow aimed and ready.
“Is that a wolf I hear?”
Sophie nodded, still walking slowly. Where there was one wolf, there was sure to be more. Everyone knew wolves traveled in packs.
Gabe caught sight of the glowing yellow eyes of a wolf stalking Sophie, sending a coldness through his limbs. He lifted the crossbow and aimed for the wolf’s head, right between its eyes. The wolf crouched, then launched itself toward Sophie.
Gabe squeezed the metal trigger and the arrow found its mark, slamming the wolf’s head back as it seemed to fall to the ground in slow motion.
Sophie ran toward Gingerbread and pulled herself onto the saddle as he slung his crossbow over his shoulder. Gabe mounted up behind her. “There will be more of them,” she said. “They probably smelled the blood on my arm. I’m sorry, Gabe.”
“Don’t be ridiculous. It’s not your fault.” Gabe’s voice sounded gruff to his own ears, but he was shaken to the core that Sophie had come so close to being mauled by a wolf. And they were still in danger. A pack of wolves could pull them from Gingerbread’s back and kill them both in a matter of seconds. And he couldn’t reload his crossbow while on horseback.
He turned his horse around and headed — where? If they went back up the incline they might meet the man who’d been shooting at them. But if they stayed in the ravine, they might come across the wolf pack’s den.
He had no choice. Gabe urged the horse into a gallop to the bottom of the ravine, heading north. He hoped to get to the other side of this mountain and back to the river they had been following. There was always a risk the unknown archer would find them again, but the immediate need was to put more distance between them and the wolves. Gabe had hoped to find a place to bed down for the night, but that didn’t seem likely any time soon.
He resisted the urge to look behind him as he forced Gingerbread to keep up the breakneck speed. He wasn’t sure just how long the horse could continue running, especially after an already long, hard day of riding.
Then he heard the wolves howl.
The sound came from behind them, not very far away. Their only hope was that they were far enough ahead of the wolves that they could outlast th
em.
The wolves howled again, and Sophie shuddered against him.
The moon and stars were covered by clouds, making Gabe’s eyes burn as he strained to see through the darkness. Though the terrain was treacherous, and Gabe’s aching shoulders made him weary to his bones, he didn’t dare stop.
The ravine was fairly easy to traverse; rocky, but mostly covered in leaves, with trees widely spaced. They were able to make good time, and the next time the wolves howled, they sounded farther away. Thank you, God.
He continued listening for the sound of the wolves’ howls to gauge how far away from them they were. And by the way Sophie was sitting, he could tell she was listening as well. She was depending on him to take care of her. Would his brother be thankful that Gabe had protected his betrothed and brought her to him?
He didn’t care if Valten was thankful or not. Gabe cared about Sophie and would protect her and get her safely to Hagenheim or die trying. It didn’t matter what Valten thought anymore.
After riding for another hour or so, Gabe began searching the terrain for a sheltered spot where they could stop and rest. He hadn’t heard the wolves for a while. He found the river and followed it until he saw a large overhanging rock near the bank. It was sheltered on three sides by trees and was tall enough for Gingerbread to stand under. Gabe gratefully steered the horse toward it.
When he stopped, Sophie lifted her head and turned to look at him. Her hair had come loose from its braid and was tousled, and she had a streak of dried blood, probably from her arm, on her chin. But she was still beautiful, looking up at him with something like surprise and trust in the clear blue depths of her eyes.