All of them were easily fifty pounds heavier than Will. If he’d had any reason left, he would have run and hid, but his rational mind had taken a holiday. They hadn’t seen him yet, since their backs were to him, and when he had closed the distance he reached for the sheathed sword of the man on the left.
Moving faster than he had ever believed possible, Will ripped the short sword from its scabbard and whipped it sideways, cutting deeply into the soldier’s companion, nearly severing his arm. The man screamed, blood spurting from the wound while the man whose sword he had stolen looked at him in surprise. Will brought the sword around to capitalize on his advantage, but the warrior recovered faster than he expected. The man stepped away and avoided his swing.
“Not bad, kid,” said the enemy soldier, “but you cut the wrong man. Jenson was worthless, and you’re ten years too young to have a chance with me.” Pulling out a long dagger, he grinned, licking his lips.
The man at the door turned, as if to help, but Will’s opponent warned him off. “Stay out of it, Ed. Let me have my fun.”
The soldier he had wounded sank to the ground, weak from loss of blood, and Will knew the unfortunate fellow would be dead soon if someone didn’t treat him, so he kept his attention on the man with the knife. He’s big, but I’ve got a longer reach with this sword, he told himself. I should have an advantage.
He quickly discovered otherwise. The dagger-wielding soldier was quick, and he knew what he was about, nearly gutting Will on their first clash of blades. Backstepping, Will tried to put some space between them, but the man stayed close, grinning all the while.
His speed was insufficient. The soldier was nearly as quick, and the long dagger was always just an inch from finding a home in Will’s stomach. Within seconds he had two long, shallow cuts, one across his left arm and another down the outside of his right leg. Giving up his offense, Will let his body slow and focused on defense.
“Already worn out?” sneered the soldier. “Enthusiasm only gets you so far, boy.”
Panting, Will glared at him. “I’m just waiting for you to make a mistake.”
The older man laughed. “Is that so?” Then he leapt forward aggressively, shouting. Startled, Will jumped back and stumbled, tripping over the now-unconscious man he had wounded. Scrambling back, he kept his short sword up, assuming that his enemy was about to try and finish him.
The soldier used the opportunity to bend down and retrieve the sword from his dying friend’s belt. Straightening up, he winked. “Now you’re fucked.” Shifting the dagger to his left hand and leading with the sword in his right, he advanced.
Will retreated, but the soldier’s aggressive onslaught was too much for him to avoid it entirely. Beating away attacks, he knew he was only moments from a messy death. A scream from the direction of the house cut through the air, piercing his heart. It was Sammy. The man who had gone in was emerging, dragging Will’s cousin by her hair.
“Distractions will get you killed, pup,” warned Will’s opponent, continuing to press his attack.
Will was practically running backward now, trying to avoid an early death. He wanted to circle around, to get to Sammy, but the man intent on killing him wasn’t about to allow that.
The door to the house opened again, and from the corner of his eye, Will saw his aunt emerge. Her face was red, and one eye was swollen shut, but she held his uncle’s crossbow in her hands. “Let her go!” she yelled at the man dragging her daughter away.
The other soldier waiting by the door drew his sword and thrust it toward her, but Doreen fired before he could strike, hitting the man holding Sammy. The quarrel buried itself in the soldier’s chest with a heavy thump, followed by a gurgling sound as the man began to drown in his own blood.
That got Will’s opponent’s attention. Worried, he looked to the side to see what had happened to his friends. Now! In an instant, Will changed direction, renewing his focus on speed. He blurred forward and planted the tip of his sword in the swordsman’s throat. The man stared at him in surprise for a second before falling backward.
Wasting no time, Will sprinted toward his aunt, but it was already too late. She was on the ground, a sword through her belly as she held onto her killer’s arm, refusing to let go. The man struck her with his free hand, once, twice, and then again, driving her head into the dirt. His arm came back for a fourth blow, but it stopped as Will’s sword went through his lower back.
Crying with rage, Will pulled it out and stabbed again, then again, tears running down dirty cheeks. He could think of nothing else, until he heard a voice behind him.
“Momma? Momma! No!” It was Sammy.
Will stared at her in shock and grief, and the look on her face was something he knew he would never forget. It probably mirrored his own. “Sammy, I tried,” he cried. “I couldn’t get to him in time.”
She fell to her knees beside her mother, crying inconsolably, and Will might have done the same, but then he remembered her brother. Running back, he found the boy still lying in the dirt, dead. One of the soldier’s kicks had killed him, and Will realized he had probably been dead the entire time he was fighting. A wave of dark despair washed over him. What was the point of fighting, when everyone he cared about died anyway?
No, not everyone, he reminded himself. Sammy is still alive. Turning back, he went to her. “We have to go. More of them will find us any minute now,” he told her, but she didn’t listen. Sammy was too caught up in her grief to listen.
He shoved the sword through the rope belt at his waist and gathered her in his arms. Lifting her up, he carried her around the house and into the woods behind it, away from the village. Away from their loss.
She continued to cry as he walked, and his own tears joined hers, falling from numb cheeks to land on her head.
Chapter 25
Will walked for several minutes, trying to put as much distance between them and the village as possible, but as he went, he began to worry about his mother. His home was outside of Barrowden, but not far enough to reassure him. Since the house was just off the main road from Branscombe, he figured the Darrowan soldiers would almost certainly get there soon, if they hadn’t already. He began circling around through the wood to head in that direction.
“I can walk,” said Sammy, her voice ragged and worn. “Put me down.”
He did as she asked, and as soon as her feet were on the ground his cousin turned and wrapped her arms tightly around his chest. She didn’t cry; that had stopped at some point while he was carrying her. After a few seconds, she released him, but she kept a firm grip on his hand as they walked.
Traveling through the underbrush would have been easier with both hands free, but Will didn’t complain. Sammy was squeezing his hand so hard it hurt, and when he glanced down he could see that her knuckles were white. Even so, he wasn’t sure who was comforting whom. It felt like the world had come to an end and they were cast adrift with nothing solid to cling to but each other.
They walked for ten minutes before Sammy spoke again. “Where are we going, your house?”
He nodded, not trusting himself to speak.
“Think it’s safe?” she asked.
“I…” He stopped, unable to finish the sentence as his throat threatened to close up. I hope so.