Page 80 of Peregrine's Call
At the north end, she slowed her horse to safely cross the narrow wooden bridge. The others met her, but Tav inexplicably dismounted.
“What are you doing?” Robin asked, a pit forming in her stomach. She jumped down as well, rushing over to him. “What’s going on?”
He didn’t look at her. “Get back on the horse, Robin. If you get a head start, you can be safe. You know the forest well enough to avoid getting caught.”
“But what about you?”
“Someone has to slow them down.”
“Alone?” she asked incredulously.
“The bridge is a choke point,” he said, sounding far too calm.
“I’m not leaving you to fight them off alone! I can cover you, even from the other side.” Her longbow had sufficient range.
Tav actually pushed her back toward the horse. “No. You need to get out of here and take Pierce with you to Martenkeep. He’s got the information the king needs to hear. I’ll follow you when I can.”
“Tav—”
He took her hand and kissed it, the gesture melting her even as it scared her.
Pierce looked back. “They’re coming!”
Tav lifted her up onto the saddle as if she weighed nothing. “Pierce, follow Robin. Don’t let her circle back. Go!”
Pierce used his own horse to bully hers toward the bridge. Robin cursed him, but had no other choice. She cast a last look at Octavian, who was already hefting his shield upward. He didn’t look back at her.
“Move!” Pierce snapped. “We need to get out of arrow range, or what he’s doing won’t matter.”
She dug her heels into the horse’s flanks and leapt forward. They crossed the bridge in a blink, and the horses lengthened stride into a gallop and then a canter, as if they were aware of the urgency.
Robin’s vision was blurry with tears.
She’d abandoned Tav.
There was no other word for it. He stood there alone, against who knew how many men.
He’s not expecting to get out alive.
And she left him. An ugly sob broke through, and she hunched over the horse’s neck.
She had no recollection of how she reached Martenkeep. Time ceased to run sensibly. Perhaps it stopped altogether. All she knew was that the moss-covered stones of a castle’s curtain wall suddenly rushed up to meet her.
“Halt!”
“Halt!”
The command came from ahead of her and behind her, as if more than one person called. Her horse skidded to a stop only out of a sense of self-preservation, lest it be smashed against the iron-studded gate.
“Let us in!” she yelled, her voice cracking with fury. “I need to speak with Sir Rafael Corviser! Let us in!”
Pierce rode up next to her. “It’s Lady Robin,” he called up to the astonished guards. “And I’m Lord Pierce of Malvern. Open the gate, quickly. We may have company.”
Whether it was the names, or their obvious panic, or just the fact that two people weren’t a threat, the gate opened.
Robin stormed through it the instant she could edge her horse into the space. “Where’s Sir Rafe? It’s urgent!”
She couldn’t focus on anything. Hands reached for the reins, and then pulled her down to the courtyard stones. She caught only the vague impression of uniformed men and concerned faces.
