Page 84 of Warrior Queen
Don’t look at me.
As he reached the bed, he raised his sword. I could barely see, but the movement of his shadowy figure caught my eye, and a glint of metal. Enough for me to guess his intention. The sword flashed, stabbing into the mattress, again, and then again, the noise of the blows and the small grunts of the assailant crystal clear. He couldn’t have known whose room this was. Could he?
I slid sideways along the wall, deeper into the room and the camouflaging darkness, my fingers creeping across the smoothly plastered wall. Then, nothing. My fingers had found the recess that held the unlit oil lamp, and before I had time to stop it, the lamp went flying. It crashed to the ground with enough noise to waken the entire house.
The man spun around. Either my eyes had become more accustomed to the darkness, or somehow it had grown lighter, or maybe terror had sharpened my senses. His dark shape loomed, the sword held high. Starlight caught the shine of metal.
I had the barest moment to decide what to do. Stay rooted to the spot in the suddenly cramped bedchamber, hoping he wouldn’t find me. Not good. Or run for the door and the open space of the courtyard, with the pillared portico, Arthur, and hopefully Merlin and Cei as well.
No contest. I ran.
I nearly made it to the door. The intruder dived for me, tripped on my saddlebags most likely, and went crashing to the ground. Iron fingers closed around my ankle, and I, too, fell, outstretched hands grasping for the door post. My fingers closed around the wood, and I hung on tight, the dagger still in one hand no help.
From outside came the sudden clash of swords, muffled shouts, a scream that turned into a gurgle. I kicked out hard with my free foot, but without boots, had little I could damage my attacker with. My bare foot collided with something hard. His face? I hoped so. From the grunt he made it seemed likely I was right.
Hanging on to the doorpost with both hands, I kicked out again, and felt his other hand grab for my free leg, sharp nails raking across my skin. No. I had my dagger.
I let go of the doorpost. He felt me do it and yanked me hard toward him, as with a huge effort I rolled onto my side. Twisting, I kicked out. He grabbed for my leg. I let him get it. Then, using his hold to pull myself into a sitting position, I lunged toward him, stabbing blindly down with the dagger, right where his hand had hold of my ankle and praying I wasn’t about to stab myself.
The blade found its mark, biting into flesh, grating between bones. Horrible. My reactions betrayed me, and I let go of it before I could stop myself.
My assailant screamed and released my ankles. I scrabbled back away from him, daggerless now and defenseless.
Get up and run. But I was between him and the doorway and he’d see me. Did he even know I was a woman? Crab-like, I scuttled backwards into the courtyard, desperate to get away from him, unable to see anything in the dark cavern of my bedchamber. Aware only that a wounded assailant lurked inside.
A dark shape leapt over me, making me cower in fear. Someone landed just inside our door, invisible, breath heaving. The pale starlight sparkled on the blade of a sword and on a naked torso. I scrabbled further back, across the palisaded walkway, and bumped into something warm and solid lying on the ground, my hands and bottom in a wet and sticky puddle.
I bit back the scream bubbling in my throat, fighting the wave of nausea that threatened to overwhelm me. Grunts and crashes came from inside my chamber as whoever was in there knocked the furniture flying.
“Gwen?” A voice hissed through the darkness.
“Merlin?”
A figure loomed, and a light flared, dazzlingly bright after the cloying dark. Merlin’s face appeared, lit from underneath like some pantomime villain. He reached out a hand and hauled me to my feet, out of the pool of blood I’d been sitting in. “Where are you hurt?” His voice rose in panic.
I shook my head. “Not me. Him.”
Merlin directed the lamplight over the corpse lying in the walkway. A stranger’s face stared up at us, slack, unseeing, definitely dead. I’d seen enough of death not to be mistaken. Nausea threatened again, and I turned away.
Cei staggered into view, holding his left arm above the elbow, blood oozing between his fingers. “Got the bastard, but one of them escaped the way they came. Over the rooftops.”
Bedwyr and young Morfran of Linnuis, who’d been guarding the entrance to our courtyard, ran into the pool of light, faces grotesquely distorted by the leaping shadows. “Anwyll’s followed the one that got away,” Bedwyr said. “But I doubt he’ll catch him.” His eyes went to Cei. “Let me see your arm.”
Cei held it out to him, blood dripping dark splodges onto the pale paving stones.
“Where’s Arthur?” I asked, snatching my hand back from Merlin’s too-tight grasp.
“Here.” A dark shape emerged from our chamber. Arthur, barefooted as I was and wearing only his braccae. He grabbed my arm. Like Merlin, he must have seen the blood I’d had a liberal roll in. “Are you hurt? What did he do to you?”
“Nothing. It’s his blood, not mine.” My eyes went to the shallow cut across Arthur’s chest, blood oozing freely. “You’re hurt, not me. Let me see.” My voice trembled and my body began to shake. It was bloody cold standing outside in my bare feet in the middle of the night.
“It’s nothing. A scratch, that’s all.” He took hold of my shoulders. “I thought he’d hurt you.” His voice cracked with emotion. “I’m sorry I left you. I had to wake Cei and Merlin. There was more than one intruder.”
I touched his hand, annoyed to find I couldn’t stop the shaking. “I’m a warrior queen, don’t forget. You’ll find my knife w-wedged in his wrist.” Despite my bravado, shock was taking over. I willed myself to stop trembling and failed dismally.
The anxiety in Arthur’s eyes lessened. “I will? I can see I should have remembered that.” He shook his head, the hint of a smile showing. “I’m still not accustomed to a wife who can look after herself the way you can.” He leaned closer. “Are all the women where you come from as adept as you?”
How could he be so casual about what had just happened? We’d nearly been killed in our beds. I wanted to slap him. But at least being angry lessened the trembling.
