Her Knight's Quest: A Warriors of the Mist Novel Read Online Free PDF Page B

decided disadvantage, Lavinia rose to her feet. “Rubar, is there something you needed?”
    Their sole response was to draw their swords—and lunge toward her with deadly intent. The tip of Rubar’s sword came within inches of her throat. Instantly she jumped back out of range but tangled up with the others at her table, all trying to scatter in the face of the determined attack.
    Musar bellowed at his senior guard to stand down as he tried to get his wife and family out of danger. “Both of you, stop! What are you doing?”
    He might as well have been spouting nonsense for all the attention the two guards paid to him. No one at the head table had worn weapons to dinner, leaving them all defenseless.
    Then a third man entered the fray. Rather than trying to get past the two guards, Duncan upturned the table to form a temporary barrier between the guards and where Lavinia and her guests stood. Food and dishes hit the ground with a crash, making the footing slippery. He then jumped the table to face off against her attackers. His first attempts to force the other two men to retreat met with only limited success.
    When Duncan blocked a blow from the second guard, his sword cut deeply into his opponent’s shoulder. The man paid no heed to his injury or the blood pouring down his sword arm. Meanwhile, Rubar kept trying to get around to where Lavinia and the others were huddled behind the table. When Rubar couldn’t break through, he turned his full attention to Duncan.
    Both men were skilled with a blade, but it was clear that Rubar was no match for his opponent. Inch by inch, Duncan forced him to retreat.
    Time slowed, heightening each detail, each sound, leaving Lavinia strangely aware of everything in the room. At the far end of the room, Sisters Margaret and Joetta were shepherding everyone they could out of the room through the kitchen. Musar’s other guards had drawn their weapons but seemed unsure whom they should be fighting as they formed up a line surrounding the trader and his people.
    The only noise in the room was the clanging of swords and Duncan’s deep voice ordering his two opponents to stand down. Rubar and his partner remained strangely silent, as if they existed only to swing their weapons.
    When Rubar slashed Duncan’s leg with a hard hit, Lavinia screamed. For his part, the scribe continued to fight, not giving an inch despite his obvious pain. Finally, when one of his opponents almost slipped past him, his attack turned lethal. In a flurry of motion too quick for the eye to follow, he charged forward.
    When he stopped moving, the floor was awash with blood. The nameless guard was clearly dead, but Rubar still breathed. Duncan dropped his sword and fell to his knees. He lifted the wounded man’s head onto his lap, brushing Rubar’s hair back off his face with a gentle touch.
    There was real grief in Duncan’s expression as he tried to comfort the dying man.
    Rubar struggled to speak. Blood dribbled out of the corner of his mouth as he whispered, “I couldn’t control my own hand. This I swear.”
    Duncan gripped the other man’s bloody hand in his. “You were not the one behind the attack, Rubar. Someone else wielded your sword. Your honor remains your own.”
    Lavinia knelt beside the two men, murmuring the prayers for the dead and dying. Rubar reached out to clasp her arm, soaking the sleeve of her robe with the crimson of his blood.
    “I am sorry, my lady. Forgive me. I didn’t mean . . .”
    “I know, Rubar; I believe you. There is nothing to be forgiven.” She could barely choke the words out around the lump in her throat. She had seen his expression change, from battle-ready to one of horror, when Duncan’s sword had struck its mark in his flesh.
    Duncan stared down at the man, his strange eyes gleaming with the sheen of tears. “Rest in peace, my friend. May the gods welcome you into their arms.”
    The guard shuddered one last time and then lay still, his eyes open and staring