Page 28 of The Warrior Priest (After the Rift #1)

U ncle Roderic moved closer. He’d changed little since I’d last seen him. He was still the same small and somewhat nondescript man with slightly stooped shoulders. What set him apart from other elderly men was his sharp gaze as he regarded me.

“You’re filthy, Jacqueline. Is that soot?”

My second knife was hidden in my boot. If I could remove it without anyone noticing, I might be able to injure one of the guards and take his sword. Armed with a good weapon, I might be in with a chance of fighting off the other three.

“Come home and have a nice bath,” Uncle Roderic went on. “I’ll have my cook make you something delicious for breakfast. What do you like?”

“You wouldn’t need to ask me that if you’d taken the time to find out when I first went to live with you, instead of locking me in a room and leaving me to die.”

He scoffed. “That’s a rather dramatic memory you have.”

“My memory is faultless.”

“True, but that doesn’t mean you’re not prone to exaggeration. Girls often are.”

I tensed. “You can’t arrest me without just cause.”

“This isn’t an arrest. I’m merely a concerned uncle bringing his wayward niece home. As your male relative, I’m within my rights to do so.”

“Women can’t be forced to stay with their abuser.”

“Me? An abuser? No one will believe that. I’m a firm leader, but I don’t use force.”

“Not in public.”

“I admit my housekeeper may have been a little overzealous in carrying out my instructions.”

“She did nothing that wasn’t by your order.” I hoped my plight would appeal to the more kindhearted of the four guards, but none looked like they cared enough about the young woman defying the man who paid their wages. I’d get no help from them.

Uncle Roderic ordered them to take me to the end of the street where his carriage was waiting. When I didn’t move, one of the swordsmen poked me with the point of his blade.

“I’ll never give you what you want,” I said as I walked. “I can’t. I don’t know how to make the pendant perform magic any more than you do.”

“Quiet,” he hissed. “We’ll talk later.”

The sword poked into my back, forcing me forward.

Up ahead, the carriage rolled into view at the end of the street.

Another guard opened the door. I wouldn’t be able to escape that way.

My best chance lay in the narrow street with its overhanging roofs that were almost within my reach.

All I needed was to find a way to get onto the roof, or somehow use it to my advantage.

But there were no barrels or crates in that part of the street to push myself higher, and I wasn’t tall enough to simply jump up and grab onto the overhanging tiles without leverage.

I wished I’d learned to use the wall as Rhys had, but it wasn’t a skill Giselle covered in training.

My window of opportunity shrank rapidly as we drew closer to the carriage. I needed to act fast.

I glanced over my shoulder as if to say something to my uncle, then pretended to stumble over my own feet.

As I fell, I removed the knife from my boot and struck one of the guards in the thigh.

As his step faltered, and before the others had time to react, I slashed him across the back of his hand.

He instinctively released his sword. I grabbed it before it hit the cobblestones and rolled out of the way as one of the other guards plunged his blade down.

“Get her!” my uncle shouted.

One of the other three guards had already reacted, however, and charged at me without a moment’s hesitation or thought.

He underestimated me. Just as Giselle said most men would, he assumed I couldn’t wield a sword, so he didn’t put any effort into coming up with a strategy. He thought one blow would disarm me.

I easily parried it, and the next. When he realized I was trained, he fell back, keeping his distance. My advantage of surprise had vanished. The uninjured guards regrouped, preparing to attack together. I could fend off two moderately skillful swordsmen, but not three well-trained ones.

While two kept me busy, the other came at me from the side. I saw him out of the corner of my eye and just had time to leap backward. The blade sliced through my flesh, but the cut was shallow. Even so, I sucked air between my teeth at the sting.

“I want her alive,” my uncle reminded them. “Don’t kill her. Cut her face instead.”

The three swordsmen came at me. I scrambled backward until I slammed into the wall.

The breath left my body and my vision blurred, but I could still see the three blades rushing toward me, this time aimed at my face.

I squeezed my eyes shut against the terror consuming me like a fire.

I would not give my uncle the satisfaction of seeing my fear.

The sound of booted feet running on cobblestones preceded the whine of a steel blade being unsheathed. I opened my eyes just in time to see Rhys tackling all three swordsmen. He’d come from the other end of the street from the carriage.

One guard fell, knocking his head on the cobblestones.

The second also fell but couldn’t get up with Rhys’s boot pinning him there while he dispatched the third with an effortless strike to the throat.

The fourth man, the one I’d disarmed and injured, had retrieved the dead guard’s sword and now came at Rhys. He met a quick end, too.

My uncle shouted at the guard standing by the carriage to come to the aid of his fallen comrades.

I pushed off from the wall, picked up a sword, and ran toward him.

I expected Rhys to command me to stop, but he didn’t utter a word as I dashed to the side just in time to avoid the guard’s strike.

While his momentum overbalanced him, I struck the back of his leg. He fell to his knees, shouting in pain.

“This is a private matter!” my uncle snarled at Rhys. “It’s nothing to do with Merdu’s Guards.”

Rhys ignored him. He spoke to the guard beneath his boot. “If you try anything, I will kill you.”

The guard quickly nodded.

Rhys stepped away. He looked at me, frowning with concern. “You’re hurt.”

“A little cut,” I said, touching my side. My fingers came away sticky with blood.

Rhys strode toward me.

“You’re lovers!” Uncle Roderic snarled.

“No,” I said. “Just friends.”

My uncle pointed at Rhys. “Wait until your order hears how you betrayed them. The brothers won’t want you as master after I tell them you break your vows while they suffer a life of deprivation.”

“It’s me you want! I’ll come with you if you promise to leave Rhys out of this.” I stepped toward my uncle, but my legs buckled and my head spun. My steps faltered.

Rhys caught me before I hit the ground. With one arm wrapped around me and his other hand clutching his sword, he helped me out of the street, past my uncle’s carriage.

Uncle Roderic’s cry of “Stop him!” was ignored. No guards came for us.

Once we were safe, Rhys sheathed his sword and scooped me up in his arms. I closed my eyes and rested my head against his shoulder. The vein in his throat throbbed rapidly but steadily, and the familiar scent of him surrounded me. I relaxed. I was safe.

Either I fell asleep or slipped into unconsciousness because we seemed to arrive quickly at his secret room. I didn’t even notice if we’d been seen. He set me down on the armchair and crouched before me. He tore open my shirt at my side.

“Jac,” he said, pressing his hand against the wound. “Jac, stay with me.”

“I’m fine. It’s just a small cut.”

“Then why did you faint?”

“Because I’m a girl?” It was meant as a joke, but once again it fell flat with Rhys.

“You’re not a girl. You’re a woman.”

I smiled and tried to sit up.

“Don’t move. You’ll make it worse. Give me your hand.” He took my hand and pressed it against the cut. “I’ll be back in a moment. Keep the pressure on it.”

He left.

That’s when the pain truly set in. Where before the cut had stung no worse than a bee sting, it now felt like a blacksmith had set up a forge in my side. It throbbed and burned all at once.

It was a relief when Rhys returned carrying a bowl of water and an armful of supplies. He crouched at my side again and cleaned the wound. Or tried to.

I jerked away. “It really hurts.”

“Good.”

“Sadist.”

The corner of his mouth lifted with his half-smile. “Pain means you’re alive and fully conscious. So pain is good.”

“No, it bloody well isn’t.”

He went to clean the wound again, but I moved once more. He scowled at me. “I have to clean it before I can apply the salve. The salve will numb the pain, but until then, I’m afraid it will hurt a little.”

“A little! It seems you’ve become the master of understatement while I was away.”

“And you’ve become dramatic. Didn’t you get injured in Giselle’s training?”

“I was never cut.”

“Then your training wasn’t hard enough.” When I shrank away for the third time, his voice gentled. “I only need one hand to do this, so hold my other. Squeeze it when the pain becomes too intense.”

“Will you stop then?”

“No, but it’ll make you feel better to inflict pain on me.”

“I don’t want to hurt you, Rhys. I never did.”

He lowered his gaze. “That may be so, but I deserve it after the way I spoke to you yesterday.”

“You were upset and in shock.”

“That’s no excuse.” He took my hand and rubbed his thumb across my knuckles. His gaze lifted and locked with mine. “I’m sorry, Jac.”

I sucked in a sharp breath as the pain spiked again. I’d been too distracted by his beautiful eyes to realize it was a tactic. I clenched my back teeth and tried to stay as still as possible. Holding his hand helped. Although it wouldn’t make the pain stop entirely, I squeezed anyway.

When he finished, he grunted. “Can you let go now? I need the bones in my left hand sometimes.”

I released him. “Now who’s being dramatic.”

He cleaned his hands in the water then dried them on a second cloth before scooping out a dollop of the herbal salve from a pot. It smelled familiar. “This will be gentler than the cleaning, and once it has soaked in, it will numb the pain.”