A Dishonorable Knight - By Morrison, Michelle Page 0,26

at him, acutely conscious despite her worry, of how close their lips were, inanely noticing the plush stubble that covered his face. "What do you mean you're not sure?"

Gareth cleared his throat. "I think I fell asleep and Isrid stopped. Cynan must have kept riding thinking I was still behind him."

"How could you do something as stupid as that?" Elena demanded.

"Perhaps I was exhausted as I've had to guide the horse for five days since you're too frightened to do it!" he shot back.

"And I suppose if I hadn't been here you would be any less exhausted?"

"No, but--" Gareth closed his mouth abruptly and quickly jumped down from the horse.

"Where are you going? Don't you dare leave me stranded on this horse alone!"

Pulling the reins over Isrid's head, Gareth glared at Elena. "Not another word do I want to hear out of you, do you understand? Not a complaint, not a whine, not even a loud breath. In fact, why don't you go back to sleep? 'Tis the only time I can be sure you won't be hollering about your comfort."

Elena silently ran through the litany of foul names she had assigned to Gareth over the past week. When Gareth pulled Isrid forward sharply, Elena quickly grabbed the horse's mane to keep from falling off. Realizing she would have an easier time riding the horse astride rather than sideways, she threw her right leg over Isrid's neck and rearranged her skirts.

Gareth led Isrid through the thick fog, trying to stay true to the direction he hoped would lead him to Cynan's uncle's small keep. In the eerie silence of the fog-shrouded woods, Elena lost all track of time. She was just about to doze off when Isrid came to an abrupt halt.

"What is it?" she whispered.

"Straight ahead, do you see it? A fire. Cynan must have realized we'd fallen behind and lit a fire hoping I'd see it. 'Tis a wonder he was able to find wood dry enough to burn."

"How can you be sure it's Cynan and Bryant?"

Gareth laughed. "How many other travelers do you think would be out on a night like this in the middle of Wales?"

Elena shrugged and held on tightly to the saddle, eagerly anticipating the warmth of a fire on her chilled fingers. In a few minutes, they entered the small clearing.

"Damn," Gareth muttered under his breath. It was not Cynan and Bryant they had stumbled upon, but four large, vile looking men sprawled around the fire. Mercenaries, Gareth thought as he spotted the motley array of armor and weapons piled haphazardly about. And drunk too, no doubt, judging from the empty wine skins lying about.

"Hoohoo, laddies! Did I not tell you, "Ask and ye shall receive?' Now we were just wishing we had a woman and here one comes to us. Led by a servant, no less."

The other three men pushed themselves us. "And a comely wench, she is."

"I've not had one that clean since I was a boy," said a third as he stood. "Come'ere, lass. Come and enjoy our hospitality."

Turning, Gareth pushed hard against Isrid. "Back! Get back!" Isrid backed a few paces but stopped when he ran into a tree. "Come on you--" A large hand on Gareth's shoulder spun him about.

"You wouldn't be meanin' to keep her all to yourself, now would you, whelp?"

Gareth looked over his shoulder at Elena. "Run!" he yelled as he swung with all his might at the man in front of him, landing a cracking blow to the man's nose. "Go on!" he yelled again as Elena stayed where she was.

Spurred to action by the urgency in his voice, Elena reached for the reins that were dangling in the mud. She screamed as one of the men grabbed them first. Twining her hands in Isrid's mane, she kicked the horse as hard as she could. Isrid reared up, nearly throwing her. Holding on to him with all the strength in her legs, Elena pulled on his head to turn him around, but a second man was grabbing for her from the right. She kicked as hard as she could, aiming at the drunken man's face and then swung Isrid back toward Gareth. He was battling the other two men, who, despite their drunkenness were moving swiftly. Though Gareth was smaller than either brute, he landed blow after blow on chin, nose, and stomach. Elena stifled a scream as the men finally organized enough to circle Gareth. One of them grabbed Gareth from behind and