Page 29 of Raven's Rise
The whole party ate the evening meal in the tavern room below. The food was better than the accommodations, and Angelet was soon yawning. She rose to her feet and gestured to Bethany. The maid dutifully followed her, after draining her glass of ale.
There were no bed frames, just narrow straw mattresses. Luckily, Angelet was so tired she doubted even a pokey straw mattress or Bethany’s snores would keep her awake tonight.
Indeed, she dropped right into sleep, though it was a dream-filled sleep in which a tiny part of her remained alert, listening to the sounds of the inn and the outdoors, weaving every noise into fractured, fantastic dreams. Angelet heard the stomping of footsteps on the stairs, and dreamed she was in a high tower like those of her visions. She heard an owl cry, and saw a gigantic, dusky owl alight on the foot of her bed. Bethany’s snores became the heavy breath of a sleeping dragon, which the owl would hoot at impatiently.
Lost in her dream, Angelet was certain that the owl knew something of vital importance regarding her family, and she kept asking it over and over to give her news of her parents, or her brother, or her son. But the owl merely asked, “Who?” and the cycle began anew.
Then Angelet woke up. There had been a sound—a real one.
“Who’s there?” she asked as she sat up. “Bethany?”
But Bethany was still sleeping on her pallet. A different, larger shape loomed near her bed.
“Who—” was all Angelet managed to get out before a massive hand clamped down on her mouth. She gasped for breath. Whoever was trying to silence her was doing too well. She couldn’t get any air.
Panic blossomed, and she jerked away from the figure, desperate to free herself. She bit at the hand.
“Bitch!” Her assailant pulled his hand back.
Angelet dragged in a huge breath and screamed.
Another scream echoed hers and she heard the stomp of footsteps.
But then the hand was back, pushing her head down against the pillow. Angelet struggled, this time with no success. She bit again, and nothing happened. She tried to breathe, and couldn’t. Sparks and flashes of light began to pop at the edges of her vision. Air. She needed air.
Just as she began to black out, the pressure vanished. The man attacking her wheeled backwards. She could just see another man grab him from behind.
At that point, light flared. Bethany stood in the doorway with a lit candle.
Gasping for air, Angelet sat up and slipped off the pallet to get away from the two men locked in a savage fight in the middle of the room. One was fully dressed and armed with a long dagger.
“Dobson?” Angelet gasped out loud. He’d been guarding her room, and he was one of the Dryton men-at-arms who’d served Otto for years. Angelet never would have suspected he’d go against his lord like this. Trying to kill her, and then to kill…
“No!” she choked out when she saw him raise his arm to stab his opponent, who was none other than Rafe.
Rafe must have run in immediately after hearing her scream, for he was only partially dressed, and unarmed. Dobson was going to kill him.
But just as Dobson’s arm began to arc down, the blade flashing silver, Rafe moved with stunning speed. He somehow stepped to the side, ducked out of the weapon’s path, and then struck Dobson with a sharp blow.
The guard grunted, but didn’t lose his grip on the dagger.
Rafe didn’t look as if he was worried in the slightest about Dobson’s bigger size and heft. “Drop it,” he advised. “I don’t want to kill you. I’ve got questions.”
“You? Kill me?” Dobson growled. Then he attacked, wielding the dagger like a madman.
Angelet was sure Dobson would soon win the fight. But Rafe was trained to a degree Dobson was not, and nearly every blow Rafe struck landed, while Dobson’s often went wide, as Rafe’s superior reflexes allowed him to dance out of the way.
The two continued to struggle, until Rafe knocked the dagger out of Dobson’s grasp. It seemed like time had stopped, though less than a minute had passed.
Dobson gave a roar and lunged for the dagger. Rafe got there first. At the last second, Rafe snatched up the dagger and plunged it directly into Dobson’s chest.
Dobson’s eyes widened, but he made no sound. Rafe’s aim had been true, and the dagger blade pierced the heart. The off-white fabric of the man’s shirt turned into a vivid red, and a second later, Dobson’s body sank to the floor, his now sightless eyes staring upward.
Angelet had seen death in her life, but never this violently, or this close. And yet, her first feeling was relief.It’s over, she thought.
Rafe swiped the blood from the dagger with the edge of Dobson’s shirt. Then he stood up and glanced at the various shocked people in the room.
“Tad was on watch with Dobson,” he said, very calmly. “Someone find him and get him in here. Now.”
