Pride Of Lions

“Do we go or stay?”

Hunter looked around at the thick pines, the black rocks that lined the edge of the trail. “’Tis not a place I’d choose to make a stand.” He edged the stallion into a walk. A few paces they went, each one filled with tension. It radiated from the slender body bolt upright before him. He saw the glint of steel in her hand and realized she’d drawn the dirk again. Oddly he didn’t fear she meant to use it on him this time.

“They follow,” she whispered.

Hunter nodded.

The trail dipped. The stallion’s hooves flirted with the edge, sending a hail of stones into unseen darkness. Hunter counted the beats till they hit bottom. It seemed a far ways off. “Easy, lad.” He nudged a toe into the stallion’s ribs, moving him over.

In that instant, something broke from cover. A rabbit.

The stallion screamed and sidestepped.

Into nothingness...

As they went over the edge, Hunter cursed, grabbed hold of the woman and kicked his feet free of the stirrups.

He hit hard on his back, grunted as rock dented steel. He tried to brake with his heels, groaning as his foot caught on a rock. Pain radiated up his leg. They bounced off the rock and slid down, like rainwater off a slate roof. Gravel clawed at his unarmored rump and rattled against his helmet. He spared a moment’s thought for the woman, protected only by her woolen trews and tunic, and clutched her tighter against his chest.

“Hang on,” he growled.

“Where?” Her fingers groped at his chest, his waist. “You’re slick as a great metal pitcher.”

Hunter chuckled. But the bit of mirth was short-lived. His back slammed into something solid. The impact drove the air from his body. The night exploded in a shower of bright stars.

Allisun’s head hit his metal chest with a resounding clunk, jarring her teeth, addling her wits. A moment, maybe two, she lay there collecting herself. Then the unnatural stillness penetrated her stupor.

They’d stopped sliding, yet the massive arms that had held her during the fall were still clamped around her.

“You can let me go now,” she whispered, raising her head.

A bit of light filtered in through the canopy of leaves, gleaming softly on his armor. The visor of his helmet had come up. In the shadows it cast, she glimpsed a square jaw, aquiline nose and closed eyes.

“Sir knight?”

He neither moved nor opened his eyes.

“McKie?” She pushed his arms aside, alarmed they moved so easily, crawled off his chest and shook him. “McKie?”

Nothing.

Above them on the trail, however, she heard a sound that made her panicked heart skip a beat.

“They came down this way,” said a coarse voice.

“Aye, I heard ’em crashing about, but all’s quiet now.”

“Bloody hell. They got away, then. Curse the luck. I gave up my share of the cattle in hopes of getting his armor.”

Armor!

Allisun looked down at the expanse of metal shimmering traitorously in the pale light.

Gasping softly, she whipped off her cloak and flung it over the knight’s head and torso. His left side was still exposed. She threw herself down on it, praying her dark woolens would hide the rest.

Then she lay still, listening and praying.

Chapter Three

He could not be dead, Hunter thought, for he hurt everywhere. Still, he couldn’t move. When he forced his eyes open, it was to suffocating darkness.

“Dieu,” he groaned.

“Shh.”

Something covered his mouth. The woman’s voice came out of the black, “Be still. They are above us.”

“Am...am I blind?” he mumbled.

“Nay. Only covered so they won’t see us.”

Coarse voices grumbled above them, arguing, he thought.

The woman whimpered softly, her breathing shallow and raspy. Her slender body, pressed more closely against his left side, shuddering convulsively.

Instinctively he put an arm around her, grateful that it moved to his command. Mayhap he was not paralyzed after all. As he lay there in the dark, his mind leaped back over the night’s events: the cattle raid, the woman he’d rescued, the precipitous flight from a band of brigands and the fall that had ended here.

A voice intruded, loud and coarse. “That armor he was wearing would be worth a fortune.” Gravel crunched. “Looks like they went over the edge here.”

“Curse the luck,” said another harsh voice.

The Bells, Hunter thought. He should do something...get up, draw his sword and prepare to defend. But he could not marshal the strength to move. To a man of action, lying here totally defenseless, waiting for the enemy to strike, was pure torture. His body jerked as he tried to force it to move.

“Stay still.” The woman stroked his cheek. “I know it is hard to stay hidden here,” she whispered. “But we could not hope to prevail. against so many armed, ruthless animals.”

Hunter wanted to scream. At the moment, he could not have fought a week-old kitten.

“They could be hurt,” said one.

“Do ye think so?” the other Bell asked eagerly.

“Aye. They was fools to try this in the dark. If they aren’t dead, they’ll be sore hurt.”

“Easy pickings. What say, should we go down and see?”

“Idiot, I’m not chancing this trail at night. Besides, if they’re hurt, they won’t be going anyplace. We can go and get our share of the cattle, then sneak back later when it’s daylight and take what we want.”

Their footsteps faded away.