The Rose of Blacksword Read Online Free PDF Page A

senses.
    “Run, Cleve. Run!” she cried as she urged him on.
    She feared at any moment to be struck down by an avenging horde of assassins. Indeed, she feared to look back at their sure pursuit, not wanting to know how imminent was her death. But there was no blow, and as theygained the shelter of the shadowy forest, she finally chanced a fearful look behind them.
    Rosalynde’s breath came in huge gasps as she stared back at the riverbank. She saw the one man still lying where he had fallen after Cleve’s heroic attack. His arm waved weakly for help, but his cohorts were clearly unable to assist him very well. One had tumbled over a root as he staggered drunkenly to assist. Another ran forward, looked around, then darted in another direction only to stop once more and stare stupidly about as if unsure just what it was he sought. He stared once in their direction and Rosalynde froze, certain they were discovered. But then the man lurched off in another direction, and with a shudder of relief she let loose her tightly held breath.
    Without pausing to consider her actions, she plunged deeper into the thicket of shrubs and trees, still half supporting Cleve as she went. She was unmindful of the branches that plucked at her cloak and caught in her hair. She went on, heedless of the direction so long as it was far, far from the brutish men who had attacked, murdered, and plundered with no regard for the plight of their victims. Only when her bare foot caught on a curling vine and she nearly tripped was her headlong flight slowed. Cleve groaned in pain, tried to throw off her supporting arm and stand on his own, and then crumpled in a heap when his legs would not hold.
    “Cleve. Cleve!” Rosalynde knelt at his side and lifted his head. Slowly the boy’s eyes opened, but his stare was glazed with pain and confusion.
    “Lady Rosalynde?” he muttered, closing his eyes again.
    “Shh. It’s all right, Cleve. It’s all right. Just rest a moment while I see to your injuries,” she murmured in a voice far more calm than she actually felt.
    “Must get you away … safety. To Stanwood.…”He jerked when her searching fingers found a tender spot on his head.
    “Hold still. Let me see—” Rosalynde’s words broke off when she saw the blood. It covered her fingers and matted the boy’s thick brown hair. With a worried frown she tenderly parted his hair so that she could better assess the severity of the wound. Although the blood wasn’t running freely anymore, only slowly oozing from the wound, the gash was a nasty one, and Rosalynde paused as she considered just what to do.
    Their situation was precarious at best. Although they were safe for the moment, who was to say how long that would last? They were alone in strange territory, with no supplies, no one to help them, no weapons—
    She glanced down at Cleve’s hand and saw with huge relief that he had managed somehow to cling to his dagger despite everything that had happened. It was sticky with the blood of the man he had stabbed. Added to that, it wasn’t much of a weapon to begin with. But they still had it and Rosalynde felt a little restored. They had a weapon and they were no longer being followed. That was a start.
    She took a slow, steadying breath and then another, trying to calm her racing heart. Then with a firm set to her chin, she reached for the hem of her kirtle and tried to rip it. But the light linen was too well woven. She reached for Cleve’s knife, but the still-stunned boy only gripped it tighter and struggled weakly against her.
    “Give me the dagger, Cleve.” she whispered urgently. “I only want to bind your head. Then we’ll find a better resting place. Night will soon fall and we need shelter.” She passed one of her slender hands over his head reassuringly. “I’ll give the knife back to you just as soon as I’m finished with it.”
    Once more his eyes fluttered open, but this time he was more lucid. “Don’t ruin your