Page 38 of Raven's Rise
“Just being careful. That’s what we’re being paid to do.”
Chapter 12
Following a hasty, cold breakfast, the men all struck the camp, again following Rafe’s instructions for how to do so.
“Next time,” he said, “you’ll only get half as much time to do it. In an army, you’d all fail.”
“Everyone starts somewhere,” Simon retorted cheerfully. “At least we’re getting experience. Though I hope we don’t have to camp again soon. I think I slept on a rock.”
“Trust me, that’s not the worst thing that will happen to you,” Rafe said.
As he spoke, he caught sight of Angelet a little ways away. She gave him a subtle smile, and he had to stop himself from grinning like an idiot. Lord, that woman grew more alluring every time he saw her.
“Nun,” he reminded himself.
He directed the packing up of the cortège, finally understanding how a sergeant felt. The other men were learning, and by the end of the journey, they would be considerably more seasoned at this sort of thing.
They continued north along the road, the men still in a good mood. They laughed and exchanged jokes about the betting of the previous night. Laurence was down several coins, and demanded a rematch at the next opportunity.
Rafe listened to the banter, but didn’t join in. The sensation of being watched was still with him, an almost palpable creep along his spine. He looked behind him, seeing nothing unusual.
An hour passed with no hint of danger greater than a fox dashing across the road. Rafe rode up to Angelet’s carriage. “Need a break, my lady?” he asked. “It’s about time.”
“That would be appreciated,” she replied, with a look toward Bethany, who agreed heartily.
Rafe signaled the men that the cortège would stop briefly. “Stretch out. But stay close. We’ll be moving soon!”
After it slowed to a halt, he opened the door of Angelet’s carriage. He helped Bethany step down, then offered a hand to Angelet.
At that moment, Simon gave a shout of warning. Rafe looked to see a number of men rushing toward them from the direction they’d come.
“Damn it,” he swore. There was nothing friendly in the mood of the approaching group. Fifteen men? Twenty? This was going to be bad.
“What is it?” Angelet asked.
“Get back. And stay down!” Rafe pushed Angelet back into the carriage, and wheeled about. Hell, he knew something wasn’t right all day, yet he disregarded all the warnings.
The approaching group split into two, some mounted, some on foot. One second later, all turned to chaos. Simon and Marcus rushed toward the largest group of attackers with swords drawn. Angelet had, thank God, withdrawn into the interior of her carriage. The maid Bethany, however, was still outside of it, shrieking and pointing seemingly at random.
“Bethany!” he shouted.
She paid no heed.
Rafe rushed up and grabbed her by the shoulder. She squealed in surprise and whipped a knife upward.
He blocked it by instinct, striking her arm. The knife fell to the ground.
“Oh, God!” Her eyes widened. “I thought you were one of…never mind.”
“Pick up the knife. Get into the carriage with Lady Angelet. It will be safer. Go.”
He turned away, hoping she’d follow his instructions.
Rafe couldn’t spare the women another glance for the moment, because a big man with a missing eye was charging directly at him, wielding a short, wide sword. The man used it like a scythe, making huge swings to clear his path. Anyone who could rush away did.
By contrast, Rafe stood his ground, despite the natural fear that always flooded through him before a battle. He’d been in this position many times, probably more than any other man in the fray. He flexed his sword arm, taking a deep breath.
When Rafe fought, he felt a sense of calm come over him, despite the madness and the desperation in so much of what happened. He was himself when he was on a battlefield. He understood exactly what was required of him, and he knew just how to move. He knew what to look for when it came to exploiting his opponents’ weaknesses. He spun, struck, and parried almost on instinct, relying on his reflexes and his intense training to protect him.
