Page 17 of The Dark Prince
Nothing happened.
I opened them, but the man was gone. I sat up and grabbed the knife from where it had fallen, holding it in my other hand since my right wrist felt broken. Dozens of bodies littered the ground, with only half that number up and scouting. Only one pair still fought. Only one pair still fought.
My heart clenched as I saw Lord Tyr fling himself down on the man who’d tried to kill me, slashing again and again at the man with his battle ax. A large arrow protruded from his back. I raced toward him as Arne and Toke forced him away, then rolled him onto his stomach.
“Don’t look, milady!”
Maddeus caught me around my middle and pulled me back, swinging me away from the grisly sight. I pushed and pried at his hands, fighting him every step of the way. “I don’t care! Let me see him!”
I landed a kick on Maddeus’s kneecap, and he dropped me like a hot cake, swearing and grabbing his knee. I raced forward in time to see Toke rip the arrow from Tyr’s back and leap away as Arne slammed some kind of poultice down on the wound. Toke and another man whose name I didn’t know jumped back in to hold Tyr down as Arne tied and dressed his back. Tyr settled and panted in the snow.
I ignored the red-stained snow to my right. “My lord! Are you alright?” I called out.
He kept thrashing, so I dropped next to him in the snow, and put a hand on his brow. “Tyr?” I asked, using his given name for the first time.
“Tyr!” I cried out again.
He turned at the sound of my voice, and horror blossomed in his eyes. I frowned, glancing down at myself. Ok, the blood from the man didn’t look good stained across my front, but—
A knife flew by my ear, and a choking sound erupted from right behind me. I turned and shrieked as a man fell behind me, a knife protruding from his neck.
Tyr pulled me down and wrapped his arms around me, tugging me to his chest.
“Nevermove until I tell you to. He used my distraction to nearly kill you!” He shook me slightly, and I gazed up at him with fear. He flinched. “I … I don’t want to see you hurt. It’s my duty as your husband to keep you safe,” he explained, setting me down on my feet.
“Get everyone up. We need to leave immediately. There shouldn’t be any bands of thieves this far north.” He hoisted me up on the horse and strapped his ax back in place, not bothering to wipe the blood and gore from it.
Maddeus nodded and rushed off.
From atop the horse, I could easily see the slaughter field—a dozen men lay dead before us, their blood staining the ground. Maddeus and another man I didn’t know were helping a lop-sided Dank mount his horse, bloodstained rags wrapping his left side. Arne was tying a second horse to his, looking fine except for the blood staining his clothes. Toke sat behind Leif on his own horse, the other man reeling in the saddle, clearly out of it.
Tyr tried to mount up next to me but failed, swearing loudly. Arne was at his side a moment later, checking the poultice on his back and muttering in a distant language. Whatever was in the poultice must have been potent, because the tight lines of pain on Tyr’s face vanished.
“We leave now,” he ordered, and the men scattered.
With a groan, he mounted up behind me, this time successfully. The poultice on his shoulder smelled like mint and a few other spices I had no names for. One hand gripped his reins, the other snaked around my waist and held me close to him.
“That arrow would have hit me. Thank you,” I told him.
His nose nuzzled against my neck, the hard material of his mask biting into my skin. “It’s a flesh wound. He was a poor archer.”
A lump lodged in my throat. He didn’t know how much it meant to have someone looking out for me. I’d had no one since my mother died. To have a husband that cared for me and protected me felt overwhelming.
Easy, Isadora. He doesn’t love you or care for you. He’s doing his duty. He even told you that himself.
My ardor cooled, disappointment welling in my belly. Of course. Lord Tyr was simply doing his duty in protecting his wife.
If he was simply doing his duty, why did he kiss you last night?
I tucked my new dagger into my cloak pocket and put my undamaged hand on the back of his neck.
“You’re injured,” he rumbled, shaking his head slowly. He took in the blood and scrapes on my face, and he flinched back. “I pushed you off the horse. I’m sorry. I hurt you, and—”
“And saved my life, you big dolt,” I shot back, squeezing the back of his neck. “That thing would have skewered me.” I glanced over to where the bolt lay on the ground after Maddeus had pulled it from Tyr’s back. It was nearly half my size. “Lucky it hit you.”
His eyes flashed, but he said nothing. He glanced toward the pile of red snow. “Don’t look over there, I don’t want you to see—”
“How you save my life asecondtime in two minutes? Please. I used to help butcher the hogs. He deserved it.” I turned and spit toward the body, remembering how close I’d been to having my face carved off.
