Page 40 of The Fury She Holds
Without giving Tal a chance to object, Carrick scooped her up in his arms and sprinted across the lawn, Faron following close behind. Cloaked figures spilled out of the house and spread across the lawn, firing arrows and throwing daggers at them, but only the occasional spell aimed their way. Tal tried to reach her daggers, but her arms were pinned.
“Let my hands free,” she tried to say.
An arrow flew past them from the line of trees, hitting an attacker square in the chest, followed by another that hit one in the shoulder. Waylon bellowed as he crossed the lawn, chased by three adversaries. Arrows quickly took down two as Eddard sprinted over from the west. He easily dispatched the third pursuer with his sword.
When the two reached the group, Faron yelled, “What kind of a signal was that?!”
“What do you mean?!” Waylon dodged a ball of what looked like ice that flew over his head.
“I said to distract them, not blow up half the mansion!” Faron yelled back.
“I was not given specifics!”
They reached the tree line where six horses waited. Carrick lifted Tal onto the nearest mare, and Faron climbed into the saddle behind her. She began to protest, but a figure leapt from the trees.
“Way to cut it close, as always, Tal,” Rainier said, throwing his bow on his back and climbing onto the horse currently occupied by a better-looking Nola.
Her cuts had stopped bleeding, and she sat straighter on the horse, clutching an empty glass jar. Faron must have given her a healing elixir.
“Less than a handful of cloaks from what I can tell,” Rainier told Carrick. “We need to outrun them. Can you manage a saddle this time?”
Carrick didn’t hesitate to mount the largest horse. “I’ve improved,” he said and kicked the animal into action.
The group set off into the woods as fast as the horses would take them. The one meant for Tal galloped without its rider at the back of the group.
They weaved in and out of the trees, avoiding stray spells and losing their enemy. When they could push the horses no further, their pursuers were nowhere in sight. Eddard and Waylon circled back to ensure they weren’t being followed.
The sudden ending of the chase worried Tal more than anything.
“How are your wounds?” Faron asked. They had slowed to a walk.
“Better,” she responded. The clip clop of the horse’s hooves pounded in Tal’s ears like a warning drum.
Carrick led the way, Rainier and Nola behind him. The servant girl had fallen asleep, and Rain held her head against his shoulder with one hand, the horse’s reins in the other.
“When we meet with the wagon, I’ll get you more healing elixir,” he offered.
“No need. I’m healed enough until I can get to my own stash.” She tried to sit straighter in the saddle and winced when pain sliced through her leg.
“Has anyone ever told you that you are terribly stubborn?” She could hear the smile in his voice.
“The girl needs it more than I do.”
“What if the old woman has two extra vials?” Their horse slipped on a rock, and Faron tightened his hold around Tal’s waist.
“That’s doubtful,” she said, painfully aware of his chest against her back. Healing elixirs were rare, especially effective ones. The power and ingredients needed to brew them were harder to come by than a bag of gold coins in the middle of the street. She wouldn’t let anyone waste the elixir on her.
“Just as doubtful as you thought of my skills with a dagger?”
Tal smirked. She admitted to herself that it had been an expert throw, though she wished he had given the mage a chance tospeak first. At least he had confirmed that the mages soughtherand not simply anyone with elemental fury.
“Ah. So, my skills leave you speechless. I’ll be happy to show you more sometime.”
“More skills with the dagger?” she teased.
Faron leaned close to her ear and whispered, “Throwing daggers isn’t the only skill I have.”
His warm breath caressed her neck, and she had to fight the wave of chills that rolled down her spine. “Oh, you mean your skill with a sword,” she replied coyly, knowing full well he most certainly was not referring to swordsmanship.
