Page 48 of Fortress of Snow

He stopped midswing and grabbed his arm, his eyes still locked on Mazy.

If she ran, maybe he would follow her. She could lead him away from Ro.

Mazy started running, but another man grabbed her by the hair. She screamed and stabbed his arm. He howled and let her go, but the man with the broken teeth seized her wrist.

Over the evil man’s shoulder she saw the king’s guards rushing through the entrance on horseback. She tried to lash out at him with her knife, but his grip on her wrist kept the blade from connecting with his flesh.

More hands grabbed her arms from behind and she couldn’t move.

“I’m going to kill you!” the man hissed as he forced her knife out of her hand. It clattered on the cobblestones. Her other knife’s blade was still embedded in his arm, the handle the only thing visible.

Mazy screamed. He stuck his face so close to hers that she couldn’t see the guards behind him. Were they coming? Did they see her?

She struggled to lean away from the putrid man, but his henchmen were preventing her. She could not get away, could not even put any space between herself and his stained and broken teeth.

“I’ll cut off your ears with your own knife,” he sneered. “And when we’re done with you, I’ll feed your tongue to the birds.” His breath stank of rotting fish and ale, his nose nearly touching hers.

“Get off me.” Mazy could feel hysteria rising from her gut to her throat.

“You wants a kiss from me,” he taunted, laughing at her and leering in her face.

“Kiss her!” the men behind her said.

He puckered his lips, making kissing noises and coming so close she was afraid to turn her head, fearing his lips would touch her.

“Get off me,” she said through clenched teeth, but he just seemed to get closer.

Her thoughts raced to come up with a way to get away from him. She could not bear it if he touched her lips. She could feel her own hysteria continuing to rise.

She did the only thing she could think of—she sprayed spit in his face from between clenched teeth and pursed lips.

The man backed away, wiping his face with his sleeve. “You little witch.”

“Cut her!” one of the men behind her said, and someone handed the man her knife that had fallen to the ground.

He took the knife and pointed it in her face. Just then, a horse’s hooves clattered up behind him.

Sir Berenger rose above them, his sword poised to strike her attacker.

The men holding her let go and ran, and the man with the broken teeth turned around just as Sir Berenger brought his sword hilt down on top of his head.

The man crumpled straight down onto his knees. Mazy snatched her knife out of his hand just before he fell on his face. He did not move.

Sir Berenger leapt from his horse. His hands were onher shoulders, holding her at arm’s length. “Are you hurt? Mazy...”

“No.” Mazy could only stare at him as she tried to catch her breath.

“Thank God.”

He pulled her into his chest, embracing her with one arm, his other hand still holding his sword. Weakly, Mazy placed her shaking arms around him, still clutching her knife.

How good it felt to have her face pressed against Sir Berenger’s chest as he held her close. He came just in time.Thanks be to God.

“I have to find Ro.” She suddenly pulled away. “I left her in our stall.”

He let go of her and Mazy darted toward the broken stall, their bags scattered around it. Ro was just starting to stand up and look around.

Mazy ran to her friend. Tears still clinging to her cheeks, Ro stared hard at Mazy. “Are you well?”