Lady Grace and Her Knights

Grace slapped a hand over Lysandra’s mouth as the cries and grunts of battle surged around them. Horses whinnied and blades clashed while more arrows thunked into the carriage and shot through the windows.

Millicent turned gray again but her dark eyes hardened as she kept a hand on Grace’s head, tucking her close. Lysandra was in tears, curled into herself and sobbing into Grace’s hand. Grace listened intently as her heart lodged in her throat and her pulse quickened. She focused on Sir Alexander’s commands. As long as he was alive, they had a chance.

The carriage door wrenched open, and a lean man dressed in leather and furs grinned, excitement dancing in his pale eyes.

Grace didn’t hesitate to smash her foot into his nose. He yelped and fell back on his arse.

“Grace!”

Terror and rage fueled her as she slipped the knife from her thigh sheath and moved to the doorway. She couldn’t determine the number of bandits but she feared they outnumbered her guards. With horror, she watched Sir Alexander go down with an arrow in his throat.

She wanted to scream.

She swallowed it back.

Riderless horses galloped in chaos before vanishing into the forest.

The man she’d kicked sat up and snarled at her. She didn’t give him a chance for another attack and sliced her knife across his eyes. Bile rose in her throat as she kicked him again. He screamed and writhed, blood pouring over his face.

“We’re losing. I have to do something.”

“My lady—”

Grace jumped from the carriage as Sir Alexander’s mare barreled toward her. She flung her hands up. “Snowflame, stop now!”

The horse reared and struck out with her forelegs, eyes wheeling.

“Snowflame, you know me!”

Snowflame lowered and snorted, bobbing her head. Grace panted, her stomach in knots, as awareness of the chaos threatened to overwhelm her. She tried to focus on the mare as her guards were going down one by one. She couldn’t see Victor anywhere. Good men, each and every one of them, giving their lives for her. She calmed Snowflame enough to grip her reins and climb into the saddle. She had to hop a bit and stretch her leg until pain flared in her hip before she could mount. She was shorter than most and not as agile as she wished to be. But she was no delicate willowy flower who would faint at the sight of blood or blush at a rude word.

She kicked the carriage door closed and pulled on the reins. The man she’d damaged let out a cry as Snowflame trampled him. Grace didn’t look down and tried not to acknowledge the crunch of Snowflame’s hoof against his skull.

Many of the bandits paused to look at her, confirming her assumption she was their target. Did they know who she was? How? Was this planned? Or was this a crime of opportunity?

“You want me?” she screamed. “You must catch me first!”

“Grace!” Victor sliced through another bandit, blood staining his brown hair and dripping into his eyes. “Don’t!”

“Come on, you ruffians! Come and get your prize.”

“Yank her off that damn horse, boys!”

Grace swung her head at the command. A large bear of a man drove his axe through the head of a young soldier before meeting her gaze. He bared his teeth in the mockery of a smile, dark eyes glinting from a pale face, framed by short curly hair.

“Get the noble bitch!”

How did the bandits know the carriage held a noble? Her retinue had gone out of their way to make themselves nondescript. But if the bandits had known beforehand about her travel plans, that spoke to treachery in her father’s court.

Or Isaac’s.

Thoughts for another day, if she survived.

Bandits surged toward her. She kicked Snowflame and the mare took off. Her pursuers leapt onto their horses while others stayed. She hoped dividing their forces would allow her guards to gain victory. She didn’t want to think of what these bastards would do to her ladies. She just needed to give Victor an edge. She could trust him to use the distraction.

Now… what about her?