Romancing the Rogue (196 page)

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Shadows lurked in every corner. It was as if they could read her thoughts, so Brynn focused her mind on only the happiest of memories. The horses were spooked by the noises of the forest, forcing many soldiers to walk beside their mounts. Trudging through the snow made for a slow journey, but the party came to a complete stop when they reached a ridge.

Julian peered over the edge. “We will have to circle back around and find a way down. I see a clearing.” He pointed below, kicked the snow with his boot, and turned just as an arrow hissed by his ear. Startled, Julian blamed one of the soldiers next to him, but when the Engel stammered that it had come from afar, Julian dropped to a defensive position, barking out orders to his men. “Secure this ridge! Find out where that arrow came from!”

The Archaean ambush seemed to materialize before her very eyes. Her horse reared, and Brynn could no longer steady herself in the saddle. She tumbled backward and landed in a windswept drift of snow, narrowly missing the plummeting hooves of her mount. Brynn rolled to the side, rising to her feet before the confusion could engulf her, too.

Michael seemed too preoccupied with engaging the warriors than keeping a watchful eye on her. In the midst of Engel soldiers, Brynn searched for Talon. The confusion of the White Forest and its mysteries was proving to be the perfect distraction for their escape. She found Talon still mounted and rushed to his side, pulling him from the saddle. “Come, Talon, we must hide.”

“Where is Da?” he whined, tired and disoriented. “You said he would come for us.”

“He is waiting for us on the other side of the forest, so we must hurry and go to him,” Brynn reassured him while urging him closer to the trees.

“I don’t want to go in there, it frightens me.” Talon refused to follow.

Brynn knew his instincts were correct. Only danger awaited them, but they had no choice. They couldn’t turn back. “I know you’re scared, I am as well, but we must go.”

Talon nodded and placed his hand in hers. “Don’t let go of me.”

Together they raced for the treeline but were spotted before they could conceal themselves in the shadows of the forest. “There they are, milord!”

“Get them!” Julian ordered, trying to regroup his men. “Don’t lose them, you imbecile!”

Within moments, two horses were upon them. “Stay out of the forest, Engel. Don’t let them get you,” she warned one of the soldiers, positioning herself in direct line with her escape route should an opening occur.

“Don’t let who get me?” the soldier questioned.

“The death walkers.” Brynn added a little laugh, hoping her warning would further the madness ensuing amongst the Engels. “They will eat your soul. You should leave now, before it’s too late. Everyone is going to die.”

The soldier eyed her precariously but pushed her words aside. Reaching down, he pulled her into his lap. Talon was secured by another soldier, and both were returned to the Engel party.

A firm grip locked around Brynn’s waist, pulling her to the ground. She struggled to free herself, but was no match for the strength of Julian. “Release me,” she ordered through gritted teeth.

“The only way you are leaving my side is by death. I will not disappoint my master.” Julian’s shouts to his soldiers only added to the chaos surrounding the ridge. Men scrambled for shelter, while others tried to calm the horses. Some wandered off in unknown directions, straight into the line of fire.

Several more arrows cleared the ridge, sinking into the snow inches from Brynn’s feet. She drew Talon to her side and pushed closer to the edge. Excited shouts echoed through the forest, and Brynn recognized several of the voices. He had come for her. She must make herself known. “Marek!” she screamed, emptying her lungs of air. “Marek, up here!”

A gloved palm circled around her throat. “Make another sound, bitch, and I will slit your throat.” Julian pulled a dagger from his side, waving it in front of her face.

“Hurt me, and he will hunt you down.”

“Not if he is dead. I will pick the arrow myself.”

Brynn stared into Julian’s dark eyes, at the man he had become. She searched for the man he once was, the charmer — full of grace and dignity, but all that remained was evil and hate. She took in a mouthful of air and called out to Marek once more. Her voice reverberated through her body.

The dagger dipped close to her face, but Brynn drew up her hand, snaring it. Her fingers curled around the blade, and she pushed back, countering the blow. Blood circled her wrist and down her forearm, the lace cuff of her gown staining red from the flow of the gash. She fought against her attacker, straining to reach the hem of her dress. Julian’s grip on her throat tightened.

Her fingers found the hem, and she tugged it upward until she felt the cold metal of her boot knife. It slipped easily from its sheath, and she swung it wildly at Julian. Steel met flesh, and Julian released her. She kicked at him with the fury of an untamed stallion until he retreated to cover the wound. Crimson poured from the deep laceration on his cheek. Her blade marred the handsome face she once admired.

Without hesitation, Brynn rose to her feet and rushed to the cowering Talon. She seized his palm, snatching up a discarded bow and quiver along the route, and searched for a way down the ravine. She didn’t have to look long. An abandoned horse marked the way. She followed in its tracks, reaching the forest floor with ease.

Hiding behind a tree, Brynn opened her satchel and pulled out a well-worn book. She flipped it open to a marked page and read the passage written on it. Her lips quivered beneath the words as she fumbled over them.

“Ma, you’re bleeding,” Talon told her, his voice trailed behind a cry.

“Quiet, Talon, I must get this right.” While she recited the words, Brynn removed a vial from the bag. She pulled the cork free, drank its contents, and replaced both the book and the empty vial in the satchel, finishing her chant. Within moments, warmth spread throughout her body. The aching of her wound ceased to pain her, and for a moment, she sighed in relief.

The moment ended when she heard the order for her death from the ridge. Keeping to the trees, Brynn tried her best to stay hidden. Julian and his men held the advantage, however — she was visible through the thickets from the high vantage point of the bluff. An assault of arrows showered above her, raining death upon impact should they find their marks. The Archaeans were close — Brynn could hear their voices clearly. They would counter-fire to protect her position, but two Archaean warriors fell in the crossfire.

“Brynn, get behind a tree!” Marek and his men took up a defensive position across the clearing from her, firing off arrows at the Engel archers.

She did as she was told and hunkered behind a large hollow tree. Her lungs burned as she tried to catch her breath. The Archaeans would be slaughtered while trying to save her — they fought a losing battle. They would never get close enough to use their swords. She knew what must be done, but summoning up the courage to do so was proving to be more difficult than she thought.

“Stay where you are and I will come to you!” Marek called to her.

“Do not!” she commanded. “He is waiting for such a move, and he will kill you!”

“I’ll take my chances!”

“Marek, don’t reveal your position! I know what I must do — it is
my
destiny! ’Tis the only way we will ever be free!” She took a deep breath to calm herself and turned to Talon. She managed a bittersweet smile, caressing his dirty cheek with the back of her palm. “I love you, my son.”

The boy looked at her with expectant eyes. “I love you, too.”

“I need you to do something for me, aye?” Talon nodded. “No matter what you hear, no matter what you see, I need you to run. And do not look back.” The boy wanted to object, but Brynn put her finger to his lips. “You must run as fast and far as you can, until your da comes for you, do you understand?”

“But why will you not come with me?”

“I need to take care of these bad men first. Stay in the trees and follow the path, all right? And don’t stop until your da finds you.” She kissed her son and wrapped her arms around him for one last hug before slinging the quiver over her shoulder and readying the bow. “Now go. I’ll see you soon.” Brynn pointed him in the right direction and watched as her little boy vanished from her line of sight.

Arrows flitted through the forest, some finding their mark in Archaean bodies. Marek’s men were being picked off one by one, defenseless against the high advantage point of the Engels.

“Courage, Brynn.” She rose to her feet, slid an arrow from the quiver, and stepped into the light of the clearing.

Despite the trembling of her hands, she managed to nock the arrow and pull the bowstring. She found her intended target — an Engel soldier aiming his bow at Marek — and released the bowstring. The arrow flew like a bird on wings, plummeting into the belly of the man. He keeled forward and tumbled over the edge of the bluff.

She reached over her shoulder for another arrow.

“Brynn, what in hell are you doing?” Sheer terror resonated from Marek. “Get back behind the tree!”

She ignored him, once again drawing the bow, hitting another soldier. Julian appeared at the edge of the ridge then, yelling words she couldn’t understand.

The first arrow struck her in the thigh, sending her staggering to regain her feet. A red circle formed on her gown where the arrow hit, but Brynn pushed it from her thoughts. It brought her no pain. She was fidgeting with the bowstring when the second arrow hit. The sharpened point crashed into her chest, cracking her ribs on impact. The blow knocked her to her knees. She struggled for a breath but didn’t give up. She would put an arrow through his heart. If she must die, Julian would first.

The world swirled around her. Brynn willed herself to stand. She glanced to her side. “I’m sorry,” she mouthed, watching Marek scream against the restraints of his men. Brynn lowered her bow and tilted her head to the sky. Three black ravens circled above her, eagerly awaiting her death. She was dying. Blood pooled in her mouth, and she spat it to the ground. It dripped from her nose, cascading to the powdery blanket of snow below. It congealed around her toes, forming steaming balls of red clumps on her boots and carelessly staining the front of her pretty gown. Her breath crystallized in the air before her, but yet, she felt no cold.

Brynn reached up toward the ravens, searching the heavens for strength. Her dreams had proven to be true. The ruse of her death would at last give her people freedom from Westmore, and she prayed Marek would find the writings she had left for him in time. She would die this day — her dreams had shown her so — but with the proper planning, and a bit of luck, it wouldn’t be so for long. She twirled her palm in the air and watched it intensely as it rotated. It felt disjointed from her body, as if it did not belong to her. The potion she made had served its purpose. She gaped at the gash on her palm as it wept bloody tears — watched as they dripped in steady rhythmic beats to the perfect white earth.

There were others surrounding her — faceless, lifeless beings standing where hearts once beat to the tune of life. Blood trickled from their burning eyes and spouted from their fingers. Swirls of white and crimson danced around the corpses of the fallen in victory. The death walkers beckoned her to join them.

Blood filled her mouth, and she spat it to the ground. Breathing had become a task she had to concentrate on as her lungs filled with fluid. Her eyes fluttered, but she continued her attack, drawing her last arrow. She took her time aiming — it was imperative her shot find its mark. Her fingers released and the arrow cut through the air.

At the same time her shot lodged itself in Julian’s chest, a barrage of arrows flew from behind her. The Archaeans joined in her battle against the Engels. She watched as Julian stumbled forward, lost his footing, and slipped from the bluff. His limbs tangled in the vines protruding from the ridge wall, and his bones cracked in perverted ways, leaving him hanging precariously.

The third arrow sent her careening to the bloodstained snow. She attempted to crawl to safety, but her arms couldn’t support her. She fell to her back and sucked in a breath that wouldn’t come.

Arms gathered her limp body, carrying her from the clearing. Marek propped her up against the trunk of a tree, mumbling incoherent words. He wiped the blood from her mouth and kissed her lips with the tenderness of an angel. “Ronan, help me with these arrows.” Marek searched her body for exit wounds, finding two.

He let them be.

Brynn attempted to speak but only blood flowed from her lips. She brought her hand to Marek’s face and placed a stained palm to his cheek. He closed his eyes and cradled it with his own, while hot tears streamed between their entwined fingers.

“I will take you home, love, I promise it. We will watch our children play in the fields under the summer sun. We will grow old together, you and I, and I will love you all the days of my life.” When her eyelids began to flutter, Marek pulled her close. “Stay with me, Brynn.” She fought against her body for a breath, arching violently in his arms. His tears splattered on her face as he cradled her head. “Damn it, Brynn, breathe!” His hands wandered aimlessly over her body, unsure of how to help her. “Please don’t leave me,” he whispered, a cry shattering his words.

“Kill him.” She focused on the ocean waves crashing in his eyes and inhaled sharply then breathed no more.