If they rode past, they might be spotters who ranged the woods, eyeing prospects for robbery.In that case, their cohorts were likely hiding in the trees, waiting for a signal.
He guided Aillenn to the side of the path to let them pass, giving them a nod.
“Mornin’,” the one in front said.
After they rode past, she held out her hand and murmured to him, “Give me my satchel.”
Adam knew better than to argue with her.She was savvy enough to recognize them as outlaws.Perhaps she was savvy enough to carry a weapon among her things.
The riders were twenty yards past when one of them let out a high whistle.
“’Tis a signal,” she whispered.“There are more o’ them.”
“Aye.”
They were likely up ahead in the densest part of the woods.He slipped his hand into his satchel and stealthily pulled out his dagger.They might be outnumbered.But he had surprise on his side.
“And so I said to him,” Aillenn said loudly, “I said, ‘What do ye mean, ye don’t have the rose silk?I was told ’twould be in by spring’.”
His eyes widened in horror.What was she doing?He’d planned to steal up on the outlaws.She might as well be blowing a buisine to herald their arrival.
She glanced at him, taking no notice of his furrowed brows and glare of disapproval, and continued to blather on.
“What was I to do?”she continued.“I couldn’t very well wear the same blue velvet I wore at Yuletide.And I told the merchant so.He insisted ’twas the fault o’ the supplier in Byzantium.‘Byzantium?’I said.‘I asked for silk from Lucca!’”
He glared even harder, biting out between his teeth, “What are ye doin’?”
Her gaze slipped aside just for an instant, but he began to understand.She’d spotted the outlaws, and she was carrying on as if she had not.It was a clever ruse.And it would take the thieves completely by surprise.
“Everyone knows Lucca silk is far superior,” she continued.“And the colors…” She paused for a dramatic gasp.“The yellow is as bright as the sun.The red as rich as strawberries.But the rose, I had my heart set on the rose.Ye know how much I love rose.”
“I do.”
He saw them now.On both sides.Hiding in the shadows of the trees.
“I asked forthreeells o’ the rose,” she said, waving an arm to the left.“Andthreeells o’ the blue.”She gestured to the right.
The clever lass was using code to tell him how many outlaws she’d seen.He prayed she didn’t mean to try to save their souls again.
“Sosixells in all?”he replied.He could fight six men.“That doesn’t seem unreasonable.”
“Indeed,” she said, glancing at his dagger.“If one has a sharp pair ofscissors,I should think—”
The outlaws emerged with a cry that was likely supposed to startle their victims.
But Adam was prepared.So was Aillenn.
She swung her satchel about, knocking the first outlaw off his feet.
Adam dropped his satchel and thrust his dagger forward at a man wielding a cudgel, wounding him just inside his shoulder, which forced him to release his weapon and stagger off.
The next outlaw swung out with a knife blade, leaving a shallow slice in Adam’s arm where he couldn’t dodge fast enough.
He sucked a quick breath of pain between his teeth and returned with his dagger, slashing across the man’s wrist.The man screamed, and his knife clattered to the forest floor.He clenched his wrist to stop the bleeding as he sought the haven of the trees.
Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Aillenn swinging her satchel forward again.This time, the outlaw leaped out of the way.And already the first man she’d knocked down was getting back up.He’d have to finish off the third outlaw on his side and come to her assistance.
The third man gave Adam a black-toothed, menacing grin as he advanced, twirling a staff before him.
