Page 49 of Fortress of Snow

“I’m well. Are you?”

Ro nodded, then noticed Sir Berenger.

“It was so frightening,” Ro said, tears leaking from her eyes. “They were everywhere. It happened so fast.”

“I must go and help capture them, but stay here.” Sir Berenger stared intently into Mazy’s eyes. “I’ll return very soon.”

Mazy nodded, her heart in her throat as he turned and hurried away.

Guards were tying the hands of the men who had laid waste to the marketplace, including the unconscious man who had grabbed her. And now she was certain that he was the manwho had threatened her when she first came to London two years ago.

Sir Berenger rode out of the market after the men who had fled when the guards arrived.

“Oh, Mazy, I was so frightened.” Ro was breathing hard while pressing her hand to her chest. “What happened?” She was staring at the bloody knife in Mazy’s hand.

Mazy sat down on one of the stools they kept inside their stall. Her hands and knees were shaking like leaves in the wind. The danger was over, so why was she still shaking?

“I threw a knife at the man who broke our stall.”

“Did you hit him?”

“In the upper arm. But he kept coming after me. I cut him across his forearm, then I had to run.”

“Oh, Mazy.” Ro covered her mouth.

“He caught up with me. His men were holding me and—” She pressed her fingers over her mouth. The terror of that moment returned to her so forcefully she couldn’t speak.

“Oh, Mazy!”

Mazy forced herself to take a breath, then another, to calm herself enough to finish the story. “Sir Berenger saved me. I am well. They didn’t hurt me. They didn’t hurt me.”

Was she trying to reassure herself as well as Ro?

“I thank God.” Ro clasped her hands together in front of her chest. “Oh, that heaven-sent Sir Berenger. Did he take you in his arms and kiss you?”

“No, of course not.” He had embraced her, but she’d share that with Ro another time. Besides, the thought of a kiss broughtback the horrible man and his threat to kiss her. A sickening chill went through her stomach and she shuddered.

She had to think of something else. “Let us see if there is someone who needs our help.”

They searched the area and found a man who was bleeding from his head. But he was able to walk and said he was well enough. People all over the market were trying to set their stalls and goods to rights.

“All my bread is spoiled,” one woman said in a disgusted voice. She had run away at the first sight of the mob and was just now returning, as were several other vendors.

“He’s one of the rebels!” a man shouted, pointing at a raggedly clad man who was skulking away.

Two guards gave chase, running him down and subduing him.

Mazy fetched their horse, rubbing his cheek to soothe him after the chaos. “Should we pack up and go home?” Mazy asked. Truly, she wanted nothing more than to curl up in her own bed and fall into a sleep of forgetfulness.

“I think we may as well. Father will have to fix our stall for us. We can go and fetch him. Do you think he will be cross about having to repair it?”

“I think he will be glad you were not harmed. Indeed, we are fortunate that we were able to save most of our goods by bagging them up before those evil men arrived.”

Mazy’s hands were still trembling. She crossed her arms and hid her hands under her armpits.

“But we can’t go anywhere until Sir Berenger returns.” Ro smiled as if she had not been crying just a few minutes before.

Mazy shook her head at Ro. She wouldn’t admit it, but her heart pounded at the memory of him holding his sword over her attacker’s head, of the way he looked as he pulled her into his arms.