Derby jumped. He nudged his horse into a trot, quickly taking position behind his lord.
“That’s a fierce master,” Mistel said.
“Bah! Eric’s all bark with very little bite,” Kurtz said.
“What happened next?” Quimby asked. “What did the people do?”
Kurtz grinned so wide his eyes squinted. “I’ve never seen grown men scream like that. One of them dropped his mug and ran straight into another, who spilled wine all over them both. Another fainted—just crumpled to the floor like an empty tunic falling off a clothesline.”
Quimby threw back his head as he laughed.
“Then Serra came out and smacked me upside the head with a loaf of bread.”
The soldiers chortled.
“Of course Hargis Vandy wasn’t at all amused either. He dragged me out of the tavern by my ear and said, ‘Like squeezing into tight spaces, do you? Well, you can spend the next week helping the night soil man clean the privies at Lytton Hall. Let’s see how you like crawling around in those tight spots.’ And let me tell you, after a week of mucking out privies, I never looked at a barrel the same way again.”
The soldiers burst into a chorus of hearty laughter.
Up ahead, the procession came to a halt at the husk of a burned-out farmhouse. Lord Livna and Derby dismounted and walked toward an iron gate that circled the property. As the place was covered in a thin layer of snow, it didn’t look like a recent fire.
“My lord, what is it you mean to do?” Captain Demry called out.
Lord Livna glanced back. “I merely wish to see the scene for myself.”
The iron hinges of the gate creaked as Lord Livna and Derby entered the property and began looking around.
“Wonder what happened?” Cole said.
“That was Glodwood Manor,” Kurtz said. “Stopped there myself many times over the years. They had a well for passersby to help themselves to a drink. Strange to see it gone, it is.”
“Captain Demry!” Lord Livna called. “Have archers ready.”
Demry shouted the order, then drew with the rest of the line.
“What’s happening?” Mistel asked.
“Don’t know.” Kurtz nudged Smoke forward. “You two stay back out of the way.”
Cole was happy to comply. His nerves skittered as he sensed danger. The way Captain Demry sat his horse. The way some of the men had drawn their swords or bows.
Kurtz had just reached the gate when the shrill rally of war cries erupted from the forest’s edge. Pale-skinned Poroo warriors, dressed in leather and fur, sprinted out of the woods, right toward Lord Livna and Derby.
“Loose!” came Captain Demry’s command.
Kurtz drew his sword, yelled over his shoulder, “Get out of here!” then steered Smoke toward the fray.
Adrenaline shot up Cole’s spine. He grabbed Bart’s mane and turned Cherix toward the trees on the opposite side of the road. “Go. Let’s go!”
Into the forest they went, but the trees had grown so close together that sharp, naked branches snagged Cole’s hair, his clothes, and even the saddlebag. The little bites of pain only agitated his growing distress.
Cole released Bart’s mane. “It’s too tight to ride two abreast.” Should he send Mistel ahead where he could see her or would that put her first in harm’s way? He urged Cherix onward. “Stay right behind me.”
He led Cherix along a game trail, glancing over his shoulder every four steps to make sure Mistel was with him. She’d lost her hat, and the twiggy branches caught her hair, pulling free tendrils of fiery orange curls. But she was there.
She was okay.
The past few days, he’d tried to put her out of his mind. The way she laughed or how his gaze always found her when they were traveling. He’d liked it too much when she’d watched him cross swords with Derby, called him knightling, and thanked him for putting up her tent. He didn’t want to be glad she was there with them—especially now with the Poroo attacking—but he couldn’t help himself.
