Medieval Master Swordsmen(56)

Rod stared at Elizabeau as if just seeing her for the first time. He was, for a moment, speechless.

“So why did you send for me?” he turned back to his brother. “What would you have me do?”

Rhett opened his mouth but Rhys stopped him. “You and I will escort the lady to Ogmore,” he said quietly. “I fear that I cannot do this alone. I need help. This is a job for an entire army or a pair of men, but it is too overwhelming for just one. I need your sword, Rod.”

Rhett looked at his nephew with shock but said nothing; this was Rhys’ mission and if he had changed his mind and decided to escort the lady on to Ogmore, then he would not dispute him no matter how bad the decision appeared to him. Knowing what he knew, seeing all he had over the past several days, told him that Rhys needed to let Rod take the lady on alone. But Rhys wasn’t thinking with his head; he was thinking with his heart, a sometimes deadly mistake.

Rod, however, was oblivious to the turmoil going on and quite intrigued by the idea; the twinkle of adventure flickered in his eyes. He did not get much chance sequestered on the Marches at his grandfather’s garrison.

“And you shall have it,” he said smoothly, turning to Elizabeau. He bowed his head to her in an apologetic manner. “My lady, you will forgive my fast tongue. Had I known who you really were, I would never have jested with you so.”

Elizabeau moved to stand next to Rhys, her dark green eyes fixed on the handsome younger brother. “No apologies necessary,” she assured him. “I rather enjoyed your joviality. Your brother is far too serious sometimes. It was a nice change of pace.”

Rod smiled broadly, those big white teeth gleaming in the weak sun. Before he could reply, sounds of thunder echoed in the distance. Rhys and Rod were instantly on alert to the approaching horses, noting that they were coming from the southwest. Rhett moved to put himself between the lady and the impending threat, his knight training instinctive even at his age. Although he couldn’t do much more than strike them with his cane, still, he would do his best to protect her.

As they watched the road, a group of men appeared, riding their mounts hard. It was perhaps ten knights, all riding in a well-armed cluster. Rhys did not recognize them and his instincts kicked in; he had to assume they were hostile. Given the importance of his mission, he could assume nothing else. Lives depended on it. Grabbing Elizabeau, he broke for the stables.

“Rod,” he snapped. “Give us time to get away.”

Rod realized the seriousness of the situation by his brother’s reaction. “Are they hostile?”

Rhys was already running. “I cannot suppose otherwise.”

Rod’s broadsword was still in the stable on his charger and he ran after his brother. The three of them raced for the barn where, once inside, both Rhys and Rod went for Rod’s charger. Rhys’ horse was unsaddled while Rod’s was fully dressed. Moreover, Rhys’ weapons and most of his armor were inside the manse. There wasn’t time to get it. Rod handed the reins of his big brown charger over to his brother.

“Go,” he commanded quietly. “I need my sword, but there are more weapons on the saddle. You will be able to protect yourself.”

Rhys didn’t argue; he grabbed Elizabeau and plopped her into the saddle. He mounted swiftly behind her, feeling very naked and vulnerable without most of his armor. But he also felt a sense of panic as he’d not felt in years. But it wasn’t for himself; it was for Elizabeau. There was more determination to protect her than ever.

“Rod,” he spared his brother a moment before he crashed through the back wall of the barn and fled. “Just buy us a little time. But make sure mother and the family are not harmed in any way. In fact, I would suggest you have them barricade the house immediately.”

Rod merely nodded sharply, swinging his sword in a skilled, deadly maneuver in anticipation of a good flight. With a brief nod at Elizabeau, he raced back into the courtyard.

Rhys couldn’t give his family a second thought although his natural protective instincts were raging. He would have to trust Rod, Rhett and Renard to protect them adequately. With a silent prayer for their safety, he spurred Rod’s charger forward and through the doorway that was on the east side of the barn. From there, they could escape unseen from the road and on into the woods.

Bursting forth from the small door, he directed the charger to the northeast, straight into a heavy cluster of trees. Clinging to him, Elizabeau turned to catch a glimpse of the armed men as they closed in on the manse, terrified of their identity and praying they would not harm Rhys’ family in their determination to get to her. She knew what her uncle was capable of; she had been privy to it over the past two weeks. But the trees closed off her view and all she could see was foliage, so she turned back around and buried her face in Rhys’ back.