Page 8 of Ensnaring the Dove
Warriors did all manner of brutal things when battle fever was upon them. Like the four men about to rape their captive, he was now spattered in Roman blood and gore.
Yet could he stand by and watch while they brutalized this woman?
IV. ON MY MOTHER’S MEMORY
“STILL YOUR STRUGGLING,” Sego snarled, slapping the woman hard across the face. The crack of his palm against her cheek made her gasp. Yet she fought him even harder, twisting and writhing under his grip.
“She’ll be a wild mare to ride,” Lucon observed, a wide grin on his face now.
“She will,” Sego grunted, still struggling to untie the laces to his bracae. “Although if she keeps struggling, I’m going to knock her out.”
Aedan cleared his throat then, drawing their attention.
Sego’s gaze cut his way, his brows knitting together. “Piss off, Aedan,” he growled. “This is our prize … not yours.”
Feigning nonchalance, Aedan shrugged. He still held his sword, loosely at his side now, although his left hand hovered near the hilt of the knife he’d strapped to his thigh. “That’s a bit selfish, Sego,” he replied, careful to keep his tone bland. “If it wasn’t for me, you’d have been gutted on a Roman blade moons ago.” He flashed Sego a smile. “You should let me climb on first … to show your gratitude.”
Lucon growled a curse. “Go find yourself a horse to hump, shit-weasel,” he snarled.
Aedan kept walking, a smile curving his lips. “I don’t think so.”
He’d never liked Sego or Lucon. They were excellent scouts, as was he, and so the three of them often worked together, but both men had the manners of a goat, and they’d barely tolerated his company over the past year. As such, Aedan felt no remorse as he drew his dagger and flew for Sego’s throat.
The warrior fell, clutching at his severed windpipe, but Aedan was already turning, his sword slicing through the air.
He’d have taken off Lucon’s head with it, if the warrior hadn’t ducked, staggering back out of reach.
Aedan followed, grim resolve filtering through him.
Now he’d set out on this path, there could be no hesitation. All these four had to fall.
With howls of fury, the two others set upon him, but Aedan brought them both down within moments. He then whirled to face Lucon’s wrath.
The outlaw’s heavy-featured face was twisted, his dark-blue eyes glinting as he circled Aedan with his own sword at the ready. “I knew you’d turn on us one day,” he growled. “Maccus shouldn’t have taken you in … you lived too long amongst the Roman filth. You’ve been tainted by them.”
The insults washed off Aedan. He’d heard them frequently already since earning his freedom. It didn’t matter how many times he told his companions that he bore the Caesars no love. In the eyes of the other outlaws, he’d indeed been soiled.
That no longer mattered now though. After this, he’d be hunted by both Romans and his own people.
The clash of iron rang across the valley, blending with the grunts and shouts of the fighting that continued at either end of the convoy.
Urgency tugged at Aedan then. Time was running out. Soon the fighting would end, and outlaws would swarm around them. He couldn’t linger here.
Yet Lucon was hard to beat. Heavyset and broad-shouldered, he looked as if he’d lumber in a fight, yet he was surprisingly light on his feet, and each cut of his sword was savage.
Eventually though, Aedan ducked under his guard and cut his blade deep into his opponent’s thigh.
Lucon roared in agony, although the sound abruptly cut off when Aedan head-butted him, knocking him out. Lucon sprawled onto the ground and lay still.
Whirling, his heart now pounding like a battle drum, and his forehead throbbing, Aedan glanced around for the woman.
He caught sight of a flash of blue under the carpentum and realized she’d taken refuge there once more.
“Come on,” he gasped in Latin, approaching the traveling cart and lowering himself onto his haunches. “You can’t stay here.”
Wide, frightened grey eyes stared out at him on a pale, heart-shaped face. Understandably, the woman was terrified. However, he couldn’t treat her gently. Any moment now, they’d have company, and he wouldn’t be able to save her.
“We need to run,” he said, holding out his hand to her. “If we wait much longer, it’ll be too late … forbothof us.”