Incandescent rage bloomed in my chest at the sound of her frightened squeal.
Before I quite realized what was happening, my sword was out of its sheath and arcing through the air toward his extended arm.
The severed limb released its grip on Raewyn and dropped to the leafy forest floor while its former owner let out a howl.
So much for diplomacy.
An arrow whipped by my head, missing my ear by fractions of a measure. Another bounced harmlessly off my armored jacket.
Grabbing Dargan’s reins, I turned him to face toward the unseen open lands that bordered this tract of forest and slapped him on one sleek hindquarter.
“Run for the light, boy,” I commanded.
Apart from Stellon and Mareth, I loved that horse more than any living being on this earth. I desperately did not want anything to happen to him.
A moving target would be harder to hit at least, and it wasn’t like staying here would be any safer for him—or Raewyn.
“Lean forward! Lie flat against his neck,” I yelled to her as the huge Friesian Stallion began to pick up speed, dodging and weaving through the trees.
She did as I instructed, just before an arrow flew her way. It whizzed through the air over her back.
Whirling back around, I drew both daggers from my waistband simultaneously and hurled them at the shooter who’d almost hit her and the Dryad next to him who was aiming at me.
Both of them dropped.
The group leader was on the ground now as well, mourning his lost arm and busy bleeding out.
That just left one, the tall, mouthy one who’d inquired about my willingness to “share” Raewyn.
Now I drew my sword. The tall Dryad eyed it and his fallen comrades nervously.
“Let’s talk about this, friend,” he entreated.
“I think you’ve talked enough… friend.”
A dark cloud formed in front of the man, blocking his vision of me. He began to scream. He knew I was coming, just not from where.
Blade tip pointed toward him, I charged into the darkness.
Retrieving my daggers from the other fallen Dryads, I wiped them clean on a patch of moss then began walking in the direction I’d sent Dargan and Raewyn.
Unless our luck was unusually horrific, they’d made it out of the woods to open space without encountering any more Dryads.
I was almost certain neither of them had been struck, but Raewyn had to be scared out of her wits, and they weren’t much safer in open space than here in the woods. I picked up my pace, crashing through the underbrush toward the edge of the forest, sword still out and at the ready.
The trees thinned, letting in more and more light, until I emerged from them entirely to find faithful Dargan grazing not far from the forest’s border.
Raewyn stood next to him, stroking his neck as he bent and grabbed another mouthful of grass then lifted his head and chewed.
Interesting.
My horse had a reputation for being something of a hellion. The stable hands had joked we were a matched pair, complaining of his hostility toward pretty much everyone but me.
I’d never seen him willingly allow anyone else to touch him. Not that I blamed him in this case.
Standing in the field in the morning light with her long hair curling around her shoulders and down her back, Raewyn was a vision.
A visionyoushouldn’t be appreciating,I reminded myself.
