Page 42 of A Rogue and a Noble Lass

“Saving yer hide, as always. What were ye thinking gaeing off by yerself?”

Logan pressed his lips together. He wasn’t sure he had been thinking. They fought as they had so many times before, at each other’s backs, by each other’s side. Their blades moved in harmony, and bodies fell at their feet.

“I was trying tae keep her safe,” Logan grunted.

“Aye, and look how that turned out.”

“She is impossible,” Logan grunted.

Brody chuckled. “Something ye hae in common.”

The men were turning now, their eyes lighting up as they realized the prize that stood before them. Aye, Warnock would pay well for the capture of his wayward son. Logan could see them calculating how many wenches they could buy with the reward.

Brody was distracted for a moment. Logan was overwhelmed by four men. They caught his arms and wrenched them back, stretching his bones and ligaments to the point he thought they would break. Logan was immersed in a world of sweat and blood and greed.

Then, Brody’s blade came past his flank, striking the man behind him. He fell away. Logan brought his fist around, smashing it in another man’s face. Blood poured from his nose. Logan then brought his sword to bear and jabbed the point under the man’s chin.

“They’re nae gaeing tae stop until they hae ye,” Brody said. “Ye hae tae gae. Get her, and gae,” he said desperately.

Logan’s brow formed a knot. Despair shackled his heart.

“I cannae leave ye.”

“If ye dinnae leave, ye will die, or worse. I may nae hae liked it at first, but she hae done ye good, Logan. Let me dae ye this one last favor.”

Brody winked and before Logan could do anything, Brody threw himself into the middle of the battle and drew the attention of Warnock’s men.

Logan was torn for a moment, but if he stayed then Brody’s gesture would mean nothing. He cursed under his breath and prayed that he would see Brody again. He cut his way through the men and only hoped that he would find Beitris still alive.

One by one soldiers fell before him, and then he saw her.

They hadn’t killed her, thankfully, but a worse fate awaited. She was kicking and screaming as they took her away. It took five men in all, and if the situation hadn’t been so dire he would have admired her for it. Logan sprinted towards them.

“Beitris!”

She turned, but the look she gave him was like ice.

For all the enmity she might have had for her captors, it was nothing compared to that which she held for Logan. Her eyes were filled with venom, fire, bitterness, and all the dark things in the world.

He had never felt so small.

Still he ran, but he was too slow. They mounted their horses and rode away, filling the air with arrows, most of which landed at his feet and caused him to stagger back. Brody was still lost in the storm of violence. For all his prowess and his cunning, he was losing everything and he couldn’t go on fighting alone.

Not against his father.

He turned and sprinted to his horse, thinking of the previous night. It might have been a lifetime ago now, a night where her hands had played across his skin, where her lips traveled across the expanse of his body and delivered sweet promises that he wished he could hold forever. All of that happiness had been replaced by a sick feeling as though his blood was turning to ash.

He draped himself across the beast’s broad back. Logan felt just as he had when he first left home, utterly defeated, as though he had no power in the world at all. All the subsequent battles he’d fought had given him a false sense of his own importance.

He was nothing compared to his father, and he could not save the people who were important to him.

He needed help.

He clicked his tongue and it was soon galloping away, knowing that he had to make Brody’s sacrifice mean something.

“They’re survivors,” Logan whispered to himself, but he wasn’t convinced. Tears welled in his eyes. They were too big to fall. There was only one direction in which he could ride.

Back to people who would now consider him their enemy, and he would deserve any fate they deemed appropriate, no matter how savage.