She and Marcus had been riding for half the day when Marcus steered his steed off the road and into the brush. A stream ran behind a set of trees, off the main road. He dismounted and reached up for Sage.
Sage ignored him and slid to the ground. She didn’t need help. Not from him.
It was interesting. At times, she was furious with him. At times, curious. At least he had not bound her hands again.
He tied the horse’s reins to a tree near the stream to allow the horse to drink before turning to Sage. “The horse needs to rest.”
Sage nodded.
“Are you hungry?” he asked.
“More curious.”
“About?” He rummaged through the bags on the horse.
“You.”
He paused but didn’t look at her. Then, he pulled out a loaf of bread and returned to her side. He sat on the ground and held a piece out to her. She shook her head. He took a bite of the bread and watched her with his bright blue eyes, waiting. They caught the sun and were the bluest eyes she had ever seen. Gorgeous.
She mentally shook herself. “Are you a knight?” she asked.
“Would it matter?”
No. Not in the least. But he hadn’t answered her question. “Do you know how to use that weapon?” She jerked her chin toward his sword.
He lowered the bread and straightened his back. He swallowed his bite before answering, “Would you like to find out?”
A grin twitched her lips. “Yes,” she answered with more enthusiasm than she wanted to show.
He slowly rose.
For the first time, Sage noticed his powerful movements, his grace. Like a lion. Intrigued, she waited for him to remove his weapon. She wasn’t sure if he really intended to cross swords with her. He knew who she was. He must know how good she was with a weapon.
He returned to the horse and retrieved her belt and sword. He walked back to her and handed them to her.
She stared at them, so very appreciative to finally wear them again. She strapped on her belt, relishing the familiar feel. She felt whole again.
Slowly, purposely, he eased his blade from its sheath. The hiss was a familiar sound to Sage. Anticipation burned in her veins. Oh, this was going to be fun. She ached to exercise her body, and this was the perfect way to do so. If she unarmed him, she would tie him up, take the book, and make her escape. Suspicion wormed through her. He must realize that too. So, he must be good. She would not underestimate him.
She drew her sword. It hissed like a snake ready to strike.
He approached leisurely, lithely, and crossed blades with her. “Are you sure you want to do this?”
“I told you before that I wasn’t afraid of you,” Sage answered, gazing at him through the crossed metal of the blades. Fighting wasn’t her favorite thing to do, but it certainly was exercise, and after a half-day of riding, she could use it. Plus, it gave her a chance to see how skilled he actually was with a sword.
They stood that way for a moment before he exploded in swings, striking her blade again and again.
The tings rang out through the small glade.
Sage was hard-put to defend herself, but she was no beginner. She allowed him to drive her back; she allowed him to think he had the advantage as she watched for a weak spot in his attack. Anything. Instead, she was impressed by his skill. He used his whole body to direct the blow, and he was quick, powerful.
She deflected his blows. Each strike against her weapon rippled up her arm.
He caught her sword with his and swirled his wrist in a circle. If she had not been trained her entire life to fight, her weapon would have spun out of her hand. But shewastrained. Well. She grinned. It was an admirable move. But not good enough. She held the pommel of her sword firmly.
She planted her foot and stood her ground, defending against his blows.
The swords clanged with each blow, ringing through the forest.
