That was when she recognized the man striding toward them as her father.
“Let the woman go.” The deep voice penetrated the depths of her memory.
“Not so fast,” Fitzwarren said. “Where is your leader?” Suddenly, he stiffened with recognition. An evil chuckle rumbled out of his chest. “Well, how do you like that. Today must be my lucky day. Well met,SirRobert—it’s been a long time, but I seem to have found something of yours.”
Fitzwarren jerked her toward the torchlight, causing the knife to dig into her back. She cried out in pain as the blade penetrated her flesh. Blood oozed down her back.
Her eyes met her father’s, and she could see the realization dawn. “Caty Cat?” He sounded as stunned as he looked. His face seemed to have drained of all color behind the black smudges. Oblivious to the danger, he took a step toward her, his eyes never leaving her face. “My God, Catherine, is that you?”
He reached for her.
Oh God, no!Cate felt the dagger leave her back and sensed what was about to happen. Fitzwarren was going to plunge the blade into her father’s chest, which he’d left open and vulnerable by reaching for her.
Every protective instinct in her body flared. This was all her fault. She should have escaped when she had the chance, and now her father…
Stop him. I have to stop him.
The moment Fitzwarren released his hold, she reacted. This time, she remembered her training. Just as she’d done with Gregor on the practice yard, she bent forward a little bit and threw her head back into Fitzwarren’s jaw with all her strength. The mail of his coif blunted the blow, but it gave her an opening long enough to twist out of his hold.
He grunted in pain and swore, but let her go. His attention was still focused on her father, who had just moved within arm’s length.
Cate caught the glimmer of the silvery blade in the torchlight as Fitzwarren swung the dagger around toward the king.Herdagger. The one that penetrated mail.
He was bringing it forward, intending to thrust it deep into the king’s gut, when she screamed, “No!”
She knew what to do. Gregor had taught her well. He’d pounded it into her that one day on the practice yard until the movements had become almost second nature. With both hands she grabbed the wrist holding the knife, twisted Fitzwarren’s hand back, and plunged the dagger into his own chest.
She saw the surprise in his eyes for only a second before her body jerked forward with a loud, sickly thump. Pain caused her to stiffen with as much shock as Fitzwarren, as they both collapsed to the ground.
Get away. That was what he’d taught her. That was what he expected her to do. As soon as Cate was free, she was supposed to run away.
The moment Cate slammed her head back, extracting herself from the soldier’s hold, Gregor was ready. He saw the knife coming toward the king and reacted, letting loose the arrow that would save the king’s life. But as his fingers released—too late to call it back—he was distracted by a movement.
By Cate.
Gregor cried out in tortured horror as Cate lurched forward into the path of his arrow.
Too late he anticipated what she was about to do. It was what he would have done. She had the instinct of a fighter, and he’d taught her too well.
He wanted to shout for her to get out of the way, but it was too late. It felt like his heart was being ripped out of his chest and burned before his eyes as he waited for the inevitable.
Miss. God, please miss.
But his prayer was only partially answered. The arrow meant for the soldier—the one that should have struck him right between the eyes—found Cate’s back as she leapt forward to wrest the knife from the soldier’s hand.
He was already racing toward them when he heard the sickening thud, her pained gasp, and then the king’s cry. An instant later Cate crumpled to the ground, and he wanted to die.
Any pride he might have felt that the soldier she’d struck—and from the looks of it, killed—had followed a similar path was lost in the fear that had turned his blood to ice.
He pushed people out of the way mindlessly as he raced toward her.Let her be all right. Please, let her be all right. I couldn’t have…
Refusing to think the words, Gregor stumbled forward through the crowd that had gathered around the king, who inexplicably had fallen to his knees and was holding Cate draped across his lap.
Her head was back, her face bloodless, her eyes closed; she looked…
Gregor made a harsh choking sound, “Cate!”
He would have reached for her, but Bruce stopped him. “Cate?” The king’s eyes flared with a kind of rage Gregor had never seen before as he looked at him. “By the rood, stay away from her!”
