by Sharon Green
"Cam and I have been talking," Angus said after a moment, and Rianne realized he was no longer watching the road. "We've decided that what we've already gotten will do us nicely, so there's no reason to delay. When all the guests have gone, we'll leave too."
Rianne turned her head to look at him, wishing they weren't all wearing masks. She'd waited so long for it to be time…!
"Angus, are you sure?" she whispered, patting her horse as it shifted under her. "What if the gold isn't enough? What if -"
"Ree, we'll make it be enough," he interrupted, reaching over to touch her gloved hand with his own. "I don't like this robbing people, even if they're people who deserve to be robbed. Let's go now while we still can, and put all this effort into something worthwhile. Are you with us?"
"Just try to keep me away," she answered with a grin he could only hear in her words. They were all dressed in old breeches and coats, frayed shirts, cracking boots, dirty caps, and long masks and gloves. The bulky clothing along with Rianne's height made it very difficult to tell she was a girl, which meant she always let the other two do the talking. The only well-tended things any of them wore were their swords and swordbelts, but that was only to be expected.
"If you two aren't too busy to be interrupted, you might like to know there's another coach coming," Cam said, taking a firmer grip on his longbow. "Since we get to go home after this, why don't we decide whether or not we want it?"
Rianne joined Angus in immediately looking toward the road, and even though the coach was still a distance off, she quickly made a sound of pleasure.
"Tell me that isn't one of our coaches," she declared, knowing she couldn't be mistaken. "If he bothered sending that coach for someone, they must be close enough to him to be his twin. This is exactly what we were looking for, so let's not let it go by."
The two men couldn't deny what Rianne had said, and since this was the very last time they'd be robbing a coach, they didn't hesitate. Angus drew his sword as Rianne drew hers, but Cam urged his horse out onto the road and put an arrow in his string. Chasing a coach did nothing more than waste time they didn't have. Stopping it was more to the point, and that they knew how to do.
By the time the coach drew close enough to hail, Cam had drawn his bow and was clearly aiming at the driver. When they were sure the man understood that, Angus gestured with his sword.
"Stand and deliver! " he shouted, one hand on the reins of his dancing horse. "Halt there or die there!"
Rianne noticed he'd deepened and roughened his voice even more than usual, and knew he'd done it to keep the driver, Ritchie, from recognizing him. She also knew she would have to be even more careful, because Ritchie was nervously pulling the coach to a halt.
"You in the coach!" Angus rasped. "Toss out your purse, and then you can be on your way again. But don't try to hold back any of the gold, or the only place you'll be on your way to is heaven - or hell."
Rianne expected to see the purse come flying out as it always had in the past, but there was nothing but silence. Then the coach door opened and a man who was a complete stranger stepped out, the sight of him bringing her the definite urge to gasp.
He had to be the largest man she had ever seen, with shoulders so wide his carefully tailored coat seemed to strain against them. His hair was that very dark red called black-red, and it rested in unruly thickness around a square, handsome face. In that face were eyes of very light gray, surely the color of gray ice. Isn't that strange, Rianne mused. I know I've never seen him before, but it's almost as though - it feels as if we've - I can't possibly know him, so why does it feel as if I do?
"I think I'll hold back all of the gold," the man answered Angus's orders in a deep, deliberately offensive voice as he drew his own sword. "If you want to continue thinking of yourselves as men, you'll step down off those horses and face me squarely. Unless you're afraid."
Rianne could see Angus stiffen with insult where he sat his horse to her left, and then the damned fool was actually dismounting! He knew as well as she did that staying mounted gave them the advantage, but his sense of honor refused to let him keep it. He meant to answer the big man's challenge the way a gentleman should, and Rianne was furious but had to do the same. She had the sudden conviction they were making a terrible mistake, but it was far too late to undo it.
As she stepped to the front of the horses she saw that Angus had already moved ahead to face the stranger, and a sudden thought made her glance around. Yes, Cam was on the other side of the coach, still keeping the driver in his sight. The coach itself was between him and the big man, which meant that if Angus needed help the only one who could give it to him was -
"Not a bad pass," the stranger said as the clang of swords came. "Certainly not good enough for your intended purpose, but not a complete waste. Try again."
Rianne could hear Angus's low growl as he engaged the big man again, his pride no doubt stung over how easily his first pass had been parried. She could tell Angus was only trying to wound the man, which made things even harder. She could see that her adopted brother's opponent wasn't one to be toyed with where weapons were concerned, but Angus seemed to be missing the point. Didn't he know the man in the same strange way she did?
The stranger couldn't be toyed with, but he was clearly one who did the toying. His blade rang as he stopped every one of Angus's attacks, his movements fast and deceptively smooth. The faint smile on his face pointed up the fact that he wasn't attacking in turn, and that plainly made Angus even angrier.
"You'd better give it up, boy," the stranger said after a very few moments, the easy drawl of his voice showing how little effort he'd made. "Put that blade up and surrender, and you'll continue to live for a while. Keep coming at me with it, and the hangman will be out his price."
Rianne saw Angus stiffen, and could almost hear his thoughts. If he surrendered they would all be hanged, his younger brother and adopted sister with him. Rather than be the cause of that he would give up his own life, at the same time giving the other two a chance to escape.
"You two get out of here now!" he shouted, then attacked his opponent in earnest without waiting for an answer. Clearly he had now steeled himself to killing the man if he could, but the desperation in his cautious lunges showed he didn't believe he could.
Rianne threw an equally desperate glance at Cam, but he was still on the other side of the coach. The way he had straightened said he wasn't about to leave Angus any more than she would, but he didn't know what to do. They were both aware of the crossbow Ritchie kept in the boot beneath his feet, and if Cam tried to help Angus by shafting the stranger, Ritchie would use the opportunity to bring his own weapon into play.
And then the whole problem was almost ended in the worst way possible. The stranger had now begun replying to Angus with his own attacks, and Angus wasn't moving fast enough. He parried awkwardly en sixte to keep the big man's thirsting blade from the middle of his chest, but didn't succeed in keeping it away from him entirely. He cried out as a sharp edge of the sword sliced along his side, and his free hand came up to be greeted with swiftly running blood.
"I think that does it," the big man said, his point hovering very close to Angus's throat. "Let the sword fall to the ground, and then we'll -"
His words broke off as Rianne leaped forward and knocked his point away from Angus, silently taking up the gauntlet of defense. She couldn't blame the big man for defending himself, but that didn't mean she would let him hurt her beloved brother even more. He would have to kill her before he would get at Angus again, and she wasn't all that easy to kill.
"I know," the big man said lightly as his sword moved very slowly in front of him. "You're jealous of the attention the other boy got, and now want some of your own. Well, I don't mind showing little boys the error of their ways. Come ahead, lad, and take your licking like a man."
Rianne made a very soft sound of ridicule, and did exactly as she'd been invited to. Being called a boy rather than a man meant nothing to her
, and she proved it with her first attack. She forced the big man into defending himself rather more briskly than he had with Angus, and after her point nearly reached his flesh a third time, he disengaged and took a short step back.
"Well, we seem to have a real swordsman here," he drawled, but despite the insulting tone Rianne noticed he was careful not to drop his guard. "A pity you're putting such skill to so low a use. Why don't you surrender, and we'll see if we can't get you paroled into my custody? There's always room for a likely lad in my employ, and we might even do the same for your friends. What do you say?"
Rianne's answer was to step forward and go en garde again, the only answer she could give. A "likely lad" might be welcome in the big man's employ, but what would he do with a likely girl? And that was assuming she believed his offer, which something inside her was tempted to do; but it was a belief she knew she could in no way afford. If her odd feelings turned out to be mistaken, it wasn't only her own life that would be forfeit.
"Now that was a mistake," the big man said, referring to her silent but obvious choice to continue with the fight. "But if you want it all that badly, there's nothing I can do but oblige you."
As he came back en garde himself, Rianne couldn't help but notice how self-assured he sounded. Anyone facing him would begin to doubt their own ability in the presence of such colossal confidence, and that must surely have won most of his duels even before steel was raised. If her need hadn't been so great she might have thought twice herself, but she couldn't afford to be bluffed. The only way that this man would best her would be with cold steel thrust into her heart, not with distracting words.
And, very suddenly, steel was what he was trying to use. His attack came so abruptly that Rianne had no time to think, only to react. Frantically she beat away his glinting blade, but his impossibly long reach made it very difficult to counterattack. And the strength behind his blows! The impact of his sword on hers made it seem that he was trying to drive her into the ground, and she had to grip the hilt tightly despite her numbing arm. She tried desperately to disengage, to put some space between them, but he continued to loom close with his sword arm battering at hers. She had to disengage before he killed her, but she couldn't!
And then she discovered that killing her wasn't what he had in mind. His wrist twisted around in the sort of circle she was very familiar with, and the next thing she knew, her blade went flying out of her hand and away. Rianne was the one who was used to disarming her opponents like that, and she nearly cried out as she stumbled back. Her only weapon was gone, and now the big man would be free to hurt Angus again. As she took a second stumbling step backward, her boot heel caught against a protruding stone and she went down, sprawling on her back in the dust and dirt of the road.
"Well, children, I hope this is finally the end of it," the brute said with a chuckle, looking twenty feet tall where he stood beyond her feet. "If the third of your number doesn't immediately take that arrow from his string, I'll make this one's throat match his side. And I'll do it even if that arrow ends up in me, take my word on that."
He had returned his point to Angus's throat, and Rianne's glance at Cam showed he did believe the brute. Even if Cam could kill the big man, he was sure to kill Angus before he went down, and the idea, Rianne knew, was more than Cam could bear. He put off the need to make a decision by not doing anything, but Rianne was aware that inaction would be the end of them. She rolled to her side and put her hands to the ground to help her sit, and just that easily found what she hadn't known she was looking for: a palm-sized rock, just the right size for throwing.
Rianne's hands wanted to tremble in cadence with the thudding of her heart, but she simply couldn't allow that. All she could do was grip the rock tightly in her gloved hand as she sat straighter, ignore the way her cap had slipped to one side, and throw with all her strength. She also prayed very hard, but her prayers were more for Angus and Cam's sake than her own.
The brute was too busy dividing his attention between Angus and Cam to see her throw, and the rock struck him hard in the right temple. And all the practice she'd gotten as a child, and in throwing dishes and cups and things had paid off! Without a sound he collapsed to the road like a felled tree, and Rianne quickly scrambled to her feet and over to Angus.
"Resheathe that sword and lean on me!" she whispered fiercely, putting an arm around his waist. "We're getting out of here now."
"More than time, I'd say," Angus muttered as he did as she'd ordered. "Thought we were goners for sure."
Rianne didn't mention that she'd thought the same; apologizing could wait until later. She helped Angus to his horse and pushed until he was in the saddle, then she went at a run to retrieve her sword. It was sheathed by the time she got back to her horse, so she mounted instantly and reached for Angus's rein. He was slumped in the saddle, and Rianne gave thanks that he hadn't fallen off.
"You two get started," Cam said in a gruff rasp. He was taking his turn at issuing orders, but at the same time was still watching Ritchie. "I'll catch up as soon as you've got a decent head start."
If Angus hadn't been bleeding so hard Rianne would have argued, but as it was the idea made sense. They wouldn't be able to ride very far or fast, but once into the woods it shouldn't be possible to follow them. Without a word, then, she began leading Angus's horse off into the woods, and simply kept going even when the road was completely out of sight. She wanted to stop to tend Angus's wound, but with possible pursuit behind them she didn't dare.
She didn't realize she'd been afraid to breathe until Cam caught up with them, but once he had the constrictive fear eased from around her heart. Acting like highwaymen had been her idea, and if her brothers had been killed or captured she would never have forgiven herself. As it was, the guilt over Angus's wound was making her feel like the lowest of the low, and the groan Angus gave made it even worse.
"We've got to put something against that wound," Cam said as he pulled his mask off, his voice uneven with worry. "Here, let's use this until we get to a place where we can do better."
He was already tearing out the lining of his coat even as he spoke, the sweat clear on his forehead as he hurried. Rianne pulled off her own mask and stuffed it in her pocket, wishing she could get out of those heavy, bulky clothes. Angus had to be taken care of first, but as soon as he was…
"Did I kill him?" she asked Cam tonelessly without looking at him, dreading even to speak the question but needing to know. The man had been a brute to threaten Angus like that, but there was still that strange something about him… The thought of having killed him was unexpectedly painful…
"No such luck," Cam answered at once with disgust, too busy tending Angus to notice how upset she was. "He was starting to groan even as I slipped into the woods, but I didn't hang around to see more. At least he can't come after us on foot or in that coach. If he had a saddle mount, I seriously believe he'd have followed even with his head split open."
Privately Rianne agreed, but she didn't have time to do more than shiver at the idea. Cam put the cloth to Angus's side as gently as he could, then shifted fast from his horse to sit behind his brother.
"The only way we can move faster is if I hold Angus up," Cam told her. "You follow with my horse, and pay attention to tracks."
When Rianne nodded he kicked Angus's horse, and the two of them moved ahead quickly. Rianne grabbed the reins of Cam's horse and followed, and when Cam turned off onto the rock that would show no hoofprints, she carefully followed. No blood to drip down and make a trail, no hoofprints to do the same, and soon they would be at the cave they'd prepared for just such an emergency. If only they hadn't needed that cave, if only she'd had the sense to call a halt before someone was hurt, if only they'd already left. But now they would leave, and soon. Just as soon as Angus could travel…
Bryan's head clanged with the sound of every church bell ever cast, and he groaned as hands helped him to sit up. He was outdoors somewhere, and couldn't remember what had been going
on.
"What happened?" he croaked, putting his fingers to the place on his head that hurt the most. When he pulled them back covered with blood, he wasn't surprised.
"Th' one on th' ground threw a rock, sor," the driver of the coach answered, his bearded face worried. "Are ye all right? Can ye reach th' coach, 'r should I run fer help?"
Bryan looked around to see no one but them, memory rushing back of the three highwaymen. He'd wounded the first - accidentally, as it happened; he hadn't wanted to hurt the boy - disarmed the second, and had almost gotten the third to put up his bow…
"The one on the ground threw a rock," Bryan repeated, again not in the least surprised. The boy had proven he had courage to spare, even if he was too thin to have strength. And even if he did move in a strangely liquid way which Bryan had never seen with prior opponents. And was there something he remembered about the boy's hair, a strand of golden-red that had come loose from under his tumbled cap…?
"I can make it to the coach," he told the man looking at him so anxiously, knowing the much smaller man had immediately dismissed the idea of carrying him. "Give me a moment until this dizziness passes."
The driver bobbed his head in relieved agreement, and kept silent while his passenger worked at pulling himself together. He had no idea how disgusted Bryan was with himself, disgusted and exasperated. He should have watched the thin one more closely, should have planted his boot in the middle of that skinny chest. That the boys understood the concept of honor and had behaved with courage bothered him even more; finding men to handle weapons was easy, finding those to handle them with honor wasn't. He could have had these three in his employ, but instead had lost them all. If the law got them first they'd be wasted, and it was his negligence that had let them ride off…