He rode straight for the log where he’d left Isobel and William. When he saw them, his heart stopped in his chest. Isobel’s body lay over William’s. A man stood over them, holding a sword. God, no! They were dead! He was too late!
Over the sound of his horse crashing through the trees, he heard Isobel’s screams as the son of Satan lifted her up by the hair.
Stephen was very good with a knife—he’d learned from William, after all—but could he risk throwing it with Isobel so close? When the man drew his arm back to strike her, a yell of rage and madness ripped from Stephen’s throat. As he thundered down on them, he threw the blade through the trees.
Then, in one motion, he leapt off his horse and pulled Isobel into his arms. Nothing in his life would ever feel as good as holding her against him at this moment.
He wanted to weep with relief. God in heaven, what a woman! Fighting like a she-wolf, screaming curses at the man. Jesus help him, she used her body to shield William!
When her knees gave way, he carried her to the log and held her while he scanned the woods. There could be one or two more in the wood. When he spotted two bodies lying on the ground, he blew his breath out with a whoosh. Thank God.
He turned to check on William.Oh, God,but William was pale. Moving quickly, he pulled the flask from inside his shirt and held it to Isobel’s mouth until she drank. As soon as she was able to sit on her own, he dropped to his knees beside his brother.
William’s pulse was strong, but he’d lost a lot of blood. If they got him somewhere safe—and soon—he could be saved. As he replaced the bloodied bandage with a strip of cloth from his shirt, he looked up at Isobel. She was almost as pale as William.
“We must go quickly,” he said. “Where are the horses?”
His question seemed to startle her out of her daze. She got up at once, saying, “I shall get them.”
As he cradled William’s head to pour ale down his throat, William opened his eyes.
“Bit slow, weren’t you?” William said in a weak whisper.
Good God, William was teasing him.
“I shall have to tie you to your horse,” he said.
William attempted to nod and winced with pain.
Stephen looked up to see Isobel coming through the trees, leading the horses.
“Ready?” he said to William. “One, two, three.”
William gasped as Stephen lifted him onto the log.
At Stephen’s nod, Isobel brought William’s horse around and held him steady.
“One, two, three,” he said again to warn William and then hoisted him up onto the horse.
William got his feet in the stirrups before slumping forward over his horse’s neck.
Just as well he is not awake for this.
As he tied his brother to the saddle, he looked over his shoulder at Isobel. She was mounted and awaiting his signal, her face serious and intent.
“The abbey is not far,” he said, keeping his voice calm. “I don’t want to frighten you, but we must get there with all possible haste. The monks will know what to do for William.”
He did not tell her his other reason for haste. If this was not a random attack—and he suspected it was not—those men would not give up easily and move on to other prey. They could be part of a larger force, as well.
Stephen rode in front, leading William’s horse. Twice Isobel called out that William was sliding off, and he had to stop. He told Isobel to stay mounted and kept his eyes on the horizon as he retied the ropes.
When the abbey finally came into view, he gave a silent prayer of thanks. Surely God was with them this day.
As they approached, the gates opened and Jamie and Geoffrey came running out. Jamie went at once to William.
“How badly is he injured?” Jamie had his knife out, ready to cut the ropes.
“Best to keep him on the horse until we are inside,” Stephen said as he tossed the reins to Jamie.
