Chapter 6
Sage’s gaze swept over Marcus de Nogaret, assessing. He was no monk. Even though he wore the robe of a monk, he had a sword strapped to his waist. And he had her sword. It was much too expensive to abandon to a murderer. That was the only reason she had not run.
Marcus was tall, about as tall as her father, and wore his blond hair pushed back from his face, likely to appear similar in appearance to a monk. Despite all his flaws, he wanted the same thing she did. He wanted the book decoded. And then what? After she did it—or worse yet, failed to do it—would he kill her as he had Nicolas? “I don’t trust you.”
“We are even on that account. Still, I must have your word, or I will have to bind you.”
“Why would you believe me? I could lie.”
“You are a Hawke. Your word is your oath.”
He was right. She and her family never lied. Well, not to others. They stretched the truth quite a bit with one another, but never to others. She couldn’t give her word. She knew she would try again and again to escape him—especially since she didn’t know what he would do once he got what he wanted. “Am I to give you my word only to then be murdered?”
“Murdered?” he echoed in surprise. He shook his head in disappointment and returned to the horse, removing her belt and sword from his shoulder.
Sage knew she had no choice. She had to try to escape. Now.
She had to do something. Her gaze moved over the area. The hill behind her would be too difficult to run up. He would catch her too easily. The road stretched in either direction. Trees lined the side of the road.
It was her best bet. She might be able to lose him in the trees.
She waited a moment longer before rushing up to him and, with all her might, plowing her shoulder into his side. She hooked her foot around his ankle, tripping him when he attempted to gain his balance. She ripped her belt free of his hold and bolted toward the trees. If she could reach them, she had a chance of losing him.
Her arms pumped; her legs sprinted across the dirt before the trees. Her focus was on the thick trunks of the trees, even as she heard his footfalls behind her. Her breathing came in quick gasps, and blood pounded in her ears. If she could only make it to the cover of the tree line. She knew he was chasing her and pushed herself to go as fast as she could. Just a little more. Just…
He lunged, seizing her around the legs, and tackled her to the ground.
Sage kicked backwards, catching him in the chin, and crawled away. As she attempted to get to her feet, he grabbed her around the waist and pulled her back down to the ground.
Sage squirmed while trying to break free of his grip, her fingers digging into the dirt as she crept forward, but he flipped her onto her back. She tried to hit him with her sheathed sword, but he snatched the belt from her and tossed it aside.
He pinned her to the ground with the full weight of his body.
She balled her fist for a blow to his face. When she swung, he caught her hand and shoved it against the ground. With her free hand, she reached up to grab his hair at the side of his head, tugging with all her strength.
Marcus grimaced in pain, clenching his teeth, and seizing her wrist. For a moment, they were frozen in a impasse.
“That hurts,” he said through clenched teeth.
She entwined her fingers tightly in his locks of hair. “Then let me go.”
His lip twitched in fury above his straight teeth. “You can pull out all of my hair, but I’m not going to let you go.”
She knew he was right. She would eventually have to release his hair, and he would win. She tried to wiggle her balled fist from his hold, but he held it firmly to the ground. She lifted her torso from the ground, attempting to buck him off her, but he pushed her down with the weight of his body. Her mind churned, trying to come up with a solution, but she knew she had lost. There was no way to break free. Just to spite him, she yanked his hair harder before releasing her grip.
Immediately, he shoved her wrist to the ground, so both were pinned. He held her there for a long moment, gazing in anger down at her. His stare raked her face and settled for a moment on her lips.
A strange tingling sensation swept through her before she lifted her chin bravely and defiantly.
With a growl, he rolled off her and hauled her to her feet. He kept his hand shackled over her right wrist as he bent to pick up her sheathed sword.
She clenched her teeth as he pulled her back to his horse.
He dropped her sword to the ground and tugged open one of the saddlebags. He reached inside and dragged out a rope. “Give me the book.”
Panic rushed through Sage, and her lips thinned in determination.
With a quick yank, he tugged her against him, so their bodies touched, and he lifted his hand to plunge it down the front of her armor.
