Nigel cursed and also bent low in the saddle. This was a new and chilling danger. When it was just swordsmen they faced, being seen and chased had meant little more than the discomfort of a long hard ride, losing them, and hiding. Archers meant it was now deadly to even be seen from a distance, and these men were well within range of their targets.
It was now much more important to reach the hills. There they could seek shelter and—he glanced down at the bow and quiver of arrows hanging from his saddle—have a chance to fight back. There were six of them and Gisele could not fight, but Nigel felt he could hold his own if he could find a position of strength to fight from. If he were fortunate there would be some cowards in the group, men who would readily try to run down two people, but would waver and flee when faced with a hard fight.
He looked at Gisele, pleased to see that she was not only holding steady at his side, but had made herself a very small target. This heated, deadly pursuit told him that they no longer had any secrets from their enemies. The DeVeaux clearly knew that Gisele was not alone, knew who she rode with, knew that she was dressed as a lad, and that they were trying very hard to get to a port. He had guessed some of that bad news, and David had also warned him, but this made it all horrifyingly clear. The DeVeaux were determined not to let Gisele leave France alive. The long miles left to reach a port were going to have to be traveled very cautiously, hiding every step of the way.
Encircling the hills was a thick, dark forest that did not thin out until it nearly touched the rocky base. Nigel felt a hint of relief when they entered it far ahead of their pursuers. The distance he and Gisele had gained had not protected them from the arrows, but it would allow them a few minutes to hide from sight within the trees. He signaled Gisele to ride close behind him. Although he ached to put his body between her and their enemies, he had to lead them, for Gisele had no idea where they were going.
Gisele took several deep breaths in an attempt to calm herself after the hard gallop. The archers had added a new terror. She was not sure how Nigel could protect them from that. Before today, their biggest fear had been that they would be trapped with no place to run to, no way to even reach their horses. Now it appeared that they were safe only if they stayed miles away from her enemies or remained hidden. This was going to make reaching Scotland a great deal more treacherous.
She trembled, unable to fully hide her fear as she heard their enemies’ voices echo in the forest surrounding them. It was hard not to be afraid even though she trusted Nigel to keep her safe. These men wanted them dead.
What had she ever done to deserve this, she thought. A moment later she forcefully shook away that attack of self-pity and the encroaching sense of helplessness. Nigel needed her to be alert to his every move, to any signal he might make. Bemoaning the injustice of it all would not keep them alive.
“Dismount, lass,” Nigel whispered even as he slipped from his saddle.
Although she immediately did as he ordered, she asked in a hushed voice, “We have not lost them, have we?”
“Nay, but we cannae ride up such a steep slope, nay silently.”
Her eyes widened slightly as he led her up a rock strewn hillside. The hills had not looked so rough or steep from a distance. Gisele suddenly wondered where Nigel had led her. This was not the soft, gentle land she had grown up with. When they had a moment to talk, she decided that she would ask the man where they were and where they were going. As long as they found places to be safe, places to hide, she supposed it did not really matter, but she was increasingly curious. It was also somewhat annoying that a Scot knew her land better than she did.
Suddenly Nigel grabbed her reins. She stood quietly as he tethered the horses in a sheltered area. When he took her by the hand and led her higher up into the rocks and wind-contorted trees, she had to bite her lip to keep from asking what his plan was. The fact that he was carrying his bow and arrows told her that he might be thinking of making a stand, and that made her uneasy.
Nigel halted, leaned against a large rock, and then notched an arrow in his bow. When he looked down the hillside, over the rock, Gisele cautiously edged to his side and also looked down. Her eyes widened slightly when she saw the men who were hunting them riding close together amongst the thinning trees at the base of the hill.
“Do you think you can kill all six of them?” she asked softly, not really sympathizing with the men who wished to kill her and Nigel, but a little horrified by the growing toll of lives her quest for freedom was exacting.
“Nay, but I may take one or two down ere the others gather the wit to scatter and hide,” he replied, deciding to aim for the two archers who had put them in such danger.
“And the others?”
“I am praying that they are cowards who will run when they realize we arenae easy game to trap.”
It was not the best plan she had ever heard, but Gisele decided that there was probably no other. As she huddled behind the rock she knew she would be hard pressed to devise another one. She needed to learn to fight, she decided. Her lack of skill had been no problem when all they had done was run and hide, but, now, as they faced six men eager to kill them, it was a dangerous hindrance. It should be two against six, not one. If nothing else, Nigel had no one to guard his back. The best that she could do was to shout a warning.
A scream sounded from below and she closed her eyes. She heard the soft but deadly sound of Nigel releasing a second arrow, heard a second scream, and felt sickened by the relief that swept over her. Reminding herself that it was a matter of kill or be killed only soothed her dismay a little. Death was chilling to see, and these men were also dying unshriven. They had been given no chance to atone for what she expected were a great many sins. It made their deaths doubly troublesome. Gisele knew, however, that deep in her heart she much preferred it to be them rather than her or Nigel.
“Only one coward turned and fled,” Nigel announced even as he let loose another arrow. “Now there are just two,” he said coldly as a scream rose up from below, followed by a great deal of shouting and cursing.
“I fear it sounds as if you have just infuriated the last two,” she murmured.
He smiled as he set down his bow and arrows and reassured himself that his sword and dagger were at the ready. “I mean to do a great deal more than that.”
“What are you planning to do?”
“Hunt them for a change.”
“Nigel,” she protested.
He gave her a quick, hard kiss. “Stay here, lass, and keep your wee dagger at hand. I dinnae think ye will be needing it, but ’tis always wise to be at the ready.”
She cursed as he slipped away before she could offer any argument. Nigel undoubtedly knew what he was doing, but she did not like it. At least when he was by her side she knew exactly how he fared. Now she could only wait and wonder who was going to win. Gisele slipped her dagger from its sheath and prayed that Nigel was as good a fighter as she thought he was.
Nigel crept through the rocks. He had decided that it was best if he took the fight away from Gisele. When he heard his foes noisily advancing, he almost smiled. It could prove to be a lot easier than he had thought it would be. Anger drove the men onward, and anger could make them reckless.
When he found the first man, Nigel almost felt guilty. The man was completely unaware of the danger creeping up behind him while he sat on a rock, wiping the sweat from his face. Nigel had to wonder if his unease over cutting a man down from behind was what made him suddenly clumsy. He slipped ever so slightly on a moss-covered rock, and the faint sound he made was enough to alert the man.
As he drew his sword, Nigel was pleased to see that he still held the advantage of surprise. The man moved awkwardly, fumbling as he drew his own sword. The fight was over quickly, but, unfortunately, not quietly. The clash of swords sounded like thunder in the quiet hills, and the man died screaming. Nigel was not surprised to hear the man’s companion calling out for him. Neither man had revealed any appreciation for the value of stealth.
