The Captive - By Joanne Rock Page 0,39

likewise. They were surrounded.

“I fear I have made things worse instead of better,” she muttered to Wulf, keeping her body between him and the Saxons as the net around them tightened. They would be captured like fish in a net.

“Do not fear,” he counseled, his voice as steady as a rock and comforting in spite of everything. “Sometimes we are called to fight no matter the odds when we see injustice that cannot be borne.”

This was not the way Wulf Geirsson should die. The memory of him saving her life blazed brightly in her mind. He could have demanded ransom for her or conquered Alchere’s keep from within. Instead, he’d merely taken her and a few trinkets, and he’d treated her more kindly than her own husband. How could a man of his skill and resources be lost to a band of green knights who were not worthy to row his longships?

The anger she’d felt at him earlier had faded, replaced by a flood of other memories of him and regret that they wouldn’t have more time together.

“Come, Gwendolyn.” Godric lunged toward her and she ducked, eluding his grasp. He swore. “You have no right to make demands of me or Fanleigh. My men have traveled long and far to retrieve you.”

The menace in his eyes frightened her. He viewed her as his property already.

“Then they are as clod-pated as you,” she accused, giving vent to her true thoughts since Godric had ignored her attempt to deal with him civilly. “Richard of Alchere will never recognize a union for me that he did not approve. My family lands never belonged to Gerald, but were under Alchere’s care until I bore a son.”

Legally, Godric could not take her.

In her other ear, Wulf’s voice hummed low.

“You will run when I tell you to.”

The words were so ludicrous, she wondered if she’d misheard. Nearly twenty men surrounded them on horseback. Just where did he think she would run?

“Possession is the better part of the law,” Godric returned, swooping low to pull her off her feet.

She ducked again, but was not sure she would avoid his arms. Then, a sharp whistling noise passed her ears and her hair ruffled in its wake.

Godric screamed as Wulf nicked his arm with the sword.

“Run!” The command unleashed mayhem like she’d never seen.

Godric wailed atop his horse while the beast pawed the air in fright. The Saxon fell to the ground with a dull thud, holding his bleeding arm. Gwendolyn ran in the gap that opened among Godric’s men, retreating to her place among the tree roots. Yet she ran with her head swiveled toward the whirl of dust and swords in the clearing.

Horses and men cried out, the circle of knights expanding and spiraling outward until some turned and fled. She could not quite credit that Wulf would scare off such a large number of men, but she saw him at the center of the circle, wielding the axe and the sword like a man possessed by demons.

His size alone would have made her run had she been one of the young knights who followed Godric. But even if that did not put a fright in them, the way he handled two weapons as adeptly as two men should have. Striking down the group’s leader seemed to have thrown the rest of the group in turmoil.

Still, he could only move that fast for so long. Three of the horsemen circled him with renewed vigor, perhaps sensing a better way to attack. Compelled to act, she picked up a nearby rock and hurled it with all her might at the knight closest to her. To her surprise, the rider sank like a stone, puddling on the ground beside his frantic horse. Encouraged, she scrambled for more rocks, flinging handfuls at the knights who advanced on her.

Nearby, some of the fighters who’d fallen back now shouted warnings to retreat before speeding away.

Before she could puzzle out the reason for their hasty withdrawal, a shower of arrows rained down upon their heads. Men fell in their wake, their bodies sliding to the ground in lifeless slumps.

Where on earth had they come from?

Her gaze followed those of the men left standing. On the sea, they found two longships full of Danes. Half rowed the ships. Half strung their bows for another round of arrows.

Wulf’s men had arrived.

Relief soothed her for only a moment until she realized their next barrage of arrows could easily down their leader.

“Wulf!” She ran toward him. “Look