Page 50 of Fortress of Snow

“You can go and fetch your father if you wish.”

“Oh no. I wouldn’t miss seeing Sir Berenger when he comes back to you.”

“At least you’re no longer frightened.”

“I’m so sorry, Mazy.” Ro’s face suddenly fell. “I was cowering behind the stall while you were fighting with those horrible men. But you should have hidden with me.”

Perhaps she should have. She could still feel the way her knife had sliced into that man’s arm. She suddenly felt sick, as if she might lose the food she had eaten earlier.

“Oh my. There is a bit of blood on your cheek.” Ro rubbed at her face, using her sleeve.

“A lot?”

“No, just some little spatters.” Ro shuddered.

“I’ll clean up later.”

Nervous energy flowed through her limbs. She paced around the market again, looking for anyone who was hurt and unattended. But no one seemed to be badly injured, and those who were bleeding had left. Some of the men were already trying to mend their broken stalls as people began filtering in, curious to see what had happened.

Mazy was finally rewarded with a glimpse of Sir Berenger coming back with two scruffy-looking men, their hands tied to the pommel of his saddle. He took the men to the huddle of others, who were surrounded by guards.

Sir Berenger spoke and the men listened. After a few more minutes and further discussion, they started toward the Tower of London, leading the prisoners in their wake.

Sir Berenger did not follow them. Instead, he turned and looked straight at her from the other side of the market, then started toward her.

Fifteen

“Sir Berenger is coming this way!” Ro slapped Mazy’s shoulder with her hand.

“I see him.”

“Should I leave you two alone?”

“No, that’s not necessary.” Mazy’s heart thumped. And if she were honest, she did wish she could be alone with him, if only to keep others from seeing her embarrass herself, as she was not sure she wouldn’t throw her arms around him and display more emotion than was appropriate.

“Oh, look! Father is here.” Ro waved as her father appeared at the other side of the marketplace. He hurried toward them as fast as Mazy had ever seen him move.

Mazy greeted Sir Berenger, feeling strangely nervous, remembering how he had embraced her. “Did you capture all of them?”

“Hopefully. But are you sure you’re not hurt?”

He reached his hand toward Mazy’s cheek. Just before touching her, his hand dropped. “We’ll take them to the Tower to be locked up until they can be tried and sentenced.” He looked at the mess around them. “I’m sorry about your broken stall.”

“Father can fix it.” Ro smiled. “Thank you for saving us.”

“Yes, thank you,” Mazy said.

“And I am most grateful for you saving poor Mazy from those horrible men.”

“You might not say ‘poor Mazy’ if you saw her knife sticking out of that man’s arm.” Sir Berenger raised his brows, letting his gaze linger on Mazy. “She is the bravest woman I know. But I am grateful to God that I arrived when I did.”

Mazy swallowed hard to get past the lump in her throat. She wanted to say, “And I am grateful as well. You arrived just in time.” But she didn’t trust herself to speak.

“I wish we had gotten here sooner, before those men did all this damage. And before you had to defend yourself.”

His gaze was intense as he focused on Mazy. But why did his nearness and his gaze send her heart racing? She took a deep breath to try to calm herself. Then she took another, determined to say something.

“I am very grateful. Thank you again for helping us and apprehending those men.”