Beguiled (The Fairest Maidens #2) - Jody Hedlund Page 0,78
my guard, the sword and knife sheathed within reach along with his whip. Could I divest him of at least one or maybe two of the weapons?
I jerked my other hand loose, jumped to my feet, and grabbed his knife before he realized I was no longer bound. I threw the knife at the executioner and then lunged for the guard’s sword. He was swifter than me and lashed out with the whip, forcing me to dive out of reach.
Shouts rose up within the bailey. My time was running out. I had to act now if I had any hope of saving Pearl. I rushed at another nearby guard, tackling him and unsheathing his knife in the same moment. Though he wrestled with me, my distress gave me an advantage. I sliced him, wounding him and pushing him to the ground.
A clamor erupted around me—arrows raining down from the inner walls and the guards moving to surround and protect the queen. I didn’t waste time trying to figure out what was happening. Instead, I grabbed up a sword discarded on the ground and bolted toward the executioner’s block and Pearl. She was already on her feet and stumbling away, her countenance distraught, until she located me.
“Mikkel!” She veered in my direction. “We need to go! Now!”
I sprinted toward her, intending to pick her up and carry her out of the castle if need be. But she secured my hand and began to run toward the gatehouse, dragging me in her wake. I didn’t know what was going on, but I suspected Gregor had helped orchestrate a rescue effort of some kind. Who had he rallied to join him?
As we passed through the inner gate into the outer bailey, I picked up my pace and took the lead, forcing Pearl to keep up. The gatehouse loomed ahead, and I was relieved to see that the gates were still open. The guards would close them at any moment to trap us inside. And yet, as we dodged chickens and dogs along with tradesmen and their carts, no one tried to stop us.
When we ran into the shadowed interior of the gateway, a hooded man jumped from one of the guard tower ladders and dropped into our path. I raised my sword to thrust him away. But as he turned to reveal silver hair and iron-studded teeth, I halted the momentum of the sword.
Irontooth was here? “How—?”
“We must be on our way.” Pearl started up again. “There will be time for questions later.”
Irontooth’s knife was unsheathed and coated in blood, informing me why the gatehouse guards hadn’t yet tried to impede our exit. He may have stopped the two in charge of the gatehouse, but the other queen’s men would be on our trail erelong. Pearl was right. We had to make haste.
I glanced back toward the outer bailey and the inner green still in chaos. Were Gregor and the other outcasts positioned inside wreaking havoc? If so, how had they managed to get so close? And what would happen once the battle was over? Did they have an escape plan, or would they be trapped and suffer on our account? “The others? We can’t leave them.”
“They’ll soon be on their way”—Irontooth shoved me through the gatehouse—“and lose themselves in the crowds.”
“We shall be fine.” Pearl spoke with more assurance than the situation warranted.
Though I didn’t know how we would manage to outmaneuver our enemy, we started forward at a run. I took the lead and Irontooth the rear, and once again we dodged people and animals alike. I expected shouts to trail us and arrows to slice the air, but as we careened down the winding path, weaving through the other travelers, no one stopped us.
When we reached the bottom, Irontooth led us to a nearby alley that was deserted except for a mule cart loaded with hay. He headed directly for the cart and jumped onto it with a nod at the back. “Climb on and hide in the hay.”
I plunged into the hay first, then pulled Pearl in. The cart was narrow, and Pearl had to sit in front of me. She spread the hay over the top of us with Irontooth piling on even more until it covered us completely.
As the cart moved forward, the bumping and rocking was so jarring, I was afraid the hay would fall away and expose us. But it remained thick and heavy above us, sweltering and itchy, especially against my bloody back.