Page 5 of The Darkland

She was just beyond his reach. Feeling a real surge of desperation, Kirk was about to make another attempt at grabbing her purely for the fact that he knew his time had run out when Niles and Corwin came storming into the room. Kirk caught sight of his knights, feeling a burst of hope.

“Hold the rope,” he ordered, releasing it to Niles’ strong arms. Throwing himself across the windowsill, his massive hands reached with desperation for the dangling lady.

“I can’t hold on,” Mara cried again.

“Aye, you can.” He could touch her but he couldn’t quite get a grip. “Niles! Pull, man, pull!”

Someone had him by the legs. Hanging from the window, it gave him the reach he needed to grab her by the wrist just as her grip failed. Mara shrieked as the rope fell away, her slender wrist straining under Kirk’s iron hold and the undue stress of her dead weight.

Somehow, he made it back onto the windowsill. He had Mara by two hands now, hauling her up with him. She was gasping, panicked and weary, and he pulled her through the window and into his massive arms.

They were both panting, shaken. It took Kirk a moment to realize he was clutching her tightly, never more relieved of anything in his entire life.

“You’re safe now, lass,” he murmured into silken dark hair. “I have got you.”

Micheline extended her arms, trying to take Mara from Kirk’s embrace. “Mara darling!” she cried. “Thank God you’re safe. I thought I was going to lose you!”

Mara was clutching Kirk with a death-grip. After a moment, the bright blue eyes appeared from the safe cozy of his neck. “Never,” she whispered, holding out a hand. “I am so sorry, Misha. Please forgive me.”

Micheline clutched the hand tightly, kissing the small fingers as she looked to Kirk. “My lord,” she said breathlessly. “We are forever in your debt. No price shall be too great to ask in reward for saving my sister’s life.”

Kirk found he could hardly respond. The greatest reward of all was nestled in his embrace, warm and soft and trembling. But he nodded faintly, setting Mara to the ground before he grew too comfortable withthe feel of her in his arms. She collapsed against Micheline, the two sisters holding each other tightly.

Kirk glanced up at Niles and Corwin, noting that the knights were fairly shaken as well. Drawing in a deep breath to regain his composure, he struggled not to appear too unnerved by the whole event.

“Since you promised your sister that you would accompany her to Anchorsholme Castle, Lady Mara, I shall hold you to your vow.” He was already moving to the chamber door. As if trying to escape the unfamiliar emotions that had just occurred. “Since you are not packed for the journey, I shall give you until tomorrow morning. Considering the weather is worsening, I suspect we would do well spending the night at Haslingden.”

Mara looked up from her sister’s breast long enough to lock gazes with him. Before she could offer a measure of thanks, he quit the room with his knights in tow. Staring at the empty doorway, Mara was left to ponder the annoying, heroic appearance of Sir Kirk Connaught.

CHAPTER TWO

“Has she saida word to you?”

The weather had worsened since leaving Haslingden that morn, the addition of a nippy gale making life generally uncomfortable. The sky overhead was gray, the smell of rain pervasive and sharp. Astride his muscular charger, Kirk refused to glance at the wind-whipped young lady riding several paces behind him. “Not a word.”

Niles, however, did look at her. Swathed in a heavy cloak that was both too large and too worn, Mara was watching the muddied road pass beneath her mare’s hooves. With a shake of the head, Niles returned his attention to the bleak landscape.

“Not even a word for saving her life?”

“Nothing.”

“Ungrateful wench. You should have let her fall.”

Kirk chewed on his lip as his steed plodded along, refusing to reply to Niles’ cruel statement. “We should see Ormskirk in another hour. We shall find a clearing to pitch camp and be gone before sunrise. Hopefully we shall reach Anchorsholme by the nooning meal.”

Niles nodded, passing the information to the men-at-arms. To Kirk’s left, Corwin let out a nasty burp.

“Good Christ,” he gurgled. “I can still taste this morning’s meal. Disgusting as it was, barley gruel.”

“Considering the poverty of the keep, we were fortunate for that.” Niles cast a disgusted glance at Corwin. “What about the powder Lord Edmund’s physic gave you? Doesn’t that settle your stomach?”

“I used it all.” Corwin was struggling not to wretch in front of the ladies. “Yesterday, in fact.”

Niles shook his head. “For a man who has spent his entire life in the saddle, I find it extremely peculiar that your stomach has not grown accustomed to the sway of a horse.”

Corwin puffed out his cheeks as another strong burp rocked him, discreetly passing it off. “The sway of the horse, the sway of a wagon, makes little difference. Any movement makes me ill.” He was suddenly overtaken with another burp, so loud that the men-at-arms snickered.

Kirk was rattled by the sound, distracted from the thoughts that had plagued him most of the day and night. Thoughts involving the ungrateful, foolish, alluring Lady Mara. Forcing himself back to the world at hand, hisdeep voice rumbled with impatience. “We have ladies with us, Corwin. Control your repulsive habits.”