Below them, Gabe’s horse was finally able to halt his fall and scramble to his feet. He stood shaking his big head, his mane flopping around his massive neck. Gabe pulled Sophie down the hill and around the other side of the horse, putting the animal’s body between them and the top of the ravine and their would-be killer. Then he let go of her hand and smoothly pulled his crossbow over his shoulder. He yanked out the arrow that was stuck in the wood stock and threw it to the ground. Then he opened the pack that was strapped to the back of the horse’s saddle, which had miraculously not been lost in the fall, and slipped out an arrow. He stepped on the drawstring of the bow and fitted the arrow into place. Lifting the crossbow to his shoulder, and using the horse as a shield, he peered over the horse’s back and up to the top of the ravine.
Sophie looked up, but they had gone so far down, she couldn’t quite make it out in the descending darkness of twilight.
Something tickled her arm. She looked down and realized it was a trickle of blood running down and dripping off her elbow. She would examine the wound later.
Gabe was staring up, an intent look on his face, as he kept his finger on the trigger of his crossbow. Sophie knew, if ever there were a time to pray, it was now. God, please let the man — or men — pass us by. Help us stay hidden.
Gabe rested the crossbow on the horse’s back while he waited. Sophie held her breath. Then she heard the sound of horse’s hooves on leaves and sticks, the rustle of branches. It came closer, sounding as if it were just above them, just out of her vision. Then she saw movement, at the top of the ravine, though it was too dark to tell who or what caused it. Gabe held the crossbow up and stared down the stock of the partly wood-partly metal contraption. A deadly looking metal projectile was ready to fire at their enemy.
Gabe’s horse sidestepped nervously, so Sophie rubbed his neck and softly hummed. She didn’t dare speak aloud.
Gradually, the noise of what she assumed was a horse and rider became fainter and fainter. He hadn’t seen them in the ravine. They were safe — at least for the moment.
Gabe eased the crossbow away from his shoulder, turned, and looked at Sophie. “Are you all right?” he whispered. “Let me see your arm.” He set the crossbow down on the ground. With one step, he closed the gap between them and took her arm in his hands.
“We need to find water.”
“Water?”
He nodded. “Gingerbread needs water, and this wound needs to be washed and covered.”
He held her arm close to his face, examining it, but it was so covered in blood, and the ravine was so dark, she doubted he could see the actual wound. He pulled a knife from his belt, which he had retrieved earlier from his saddlebag, and cut off her sleeve where it had been torn by the arrow, at her elbow. Then, with a grim look, he wrapped the scrap of sleeve tightly around her bloody forearm. It had hurt before, but now it throbbed.
She thought it strange that he was concerned about washing the wound, but she didn’t ask him about it.
“We need to go,” he said brusquely, seeming somehow older than he had when she met him yesterday, and certainly more grim. He went to place his hands on her waist to lift her up, but she stepped back, bumping into the horse.
“Wait. First I need to …”
They had drunk the last of the water in Gabe’s flask an hour or two before, and now she needed some privacy for a few moments.
Understanding dawned on his face. He simply nodded and pointed to the nearest tree. “I won’t look.” He turned his back to her.
Sophie hurried to hide herself behind the tree and some bushes. When she was done, a growling sound just behind her made the hair on the back of her neck stand up. She froze in place, wishing she had imagined the sound, but then it came again.
She itched to turn around and see what was behind her, but she doubted that was wise. Slowly, she put one foot in front of the other and walked back toward Gabe, who was facing her with his crossbow aimed and ready.
“Is that a wolf I hear?”
Sophie nodded, still walking slowly. Where there was one wolf, there was sure to be more. Everyone knew wolves traveled in packs.
Gabe caught sight of the glowing yellow eyes of a wolf stalking Sophie, sending a coldness through his limbs. He lifted the crossbow and aimed for the wolf’s head, right between its eyes. The wolf crouched, then launched itself toward Sophie.
Gabe squeezed the metal trigger and the arrow found its mark, slamming the wolf’s head back as it seemed to fall to the ground in slow motion.
Sophie ran toward Gingerbread and pulled herself onto the saddle as he slung his crossbow over his shoulder. Gabe mounted up behind her. “There will be more of them,” she said. “They probably smelled the blood on my arm. I’m sorry, Gabe.”
“Don’t be ridiculous. It’s not your fault.” Gabe’s voice sounded gruff to his own ears, but he was shaken to the core that Sophie had come so close to being mauled by a wolf. And they were still in danger. A pack of wolves could pull them from Gingerbread’s back and kill them both in a matter of seconds. And he couldn’t reload his crossbow while on horseback.
He turned his horse around and headed — where? If they went back up the incline they might meet the man who’d been shooting at them. But if they stayed in the ravine, they might come across the wolf pack’s den.
He had no choice. Gabe urged the horse into a gallop to the bottom of the ravine, heading north. He hoped to get to the other side of this mountain and back to the river they had been following. There was always a risk the unknown archer would find them again, but the immediate need was to put more distance between them and the wolves. Gabe had hoped to find a place to bed down for the night, but that didn’t seem likely any time soon.
He resisted the urge to look behind him as he forced Gingerbread to keep up the breakneck speed. He wasn’t sure just how long the horse could continue running, especially after an already long, hard day of riding.
Then he heard the wolves howl.
The sound came from behind them, not very far away. Their only hope was that they were far enough ahead of the wolves that they could outlast them.
The wolves howled again, and Sophie shuddered against him.
The moon and stars were covered by clouds, making Gabe’s eyes burn as he strained to see through the darkness. Though the terrain was treacherous, and Gabe’s aching shoulders made him weary to his bones, he didn’t dare stop.
The ravine was fairly easy to traverse; rocky, but mostly covered in leaves, with trees widely spaced. They were able to make good time, and the next time the wolves howled, they sounded farther away. Thank you, God.
He continued listening for the sound of the wolves’ howls to gauge how far away from them they were. And by the way Sophie was sitting, he could tell she was listening as well. She was depending on him to take care of her. Would his brother be thankful that Gabe had protected his betrothed and brought her to him?
He didn’t care if Valten was thankful or not. Gabe cared about Sophie and would protect her and get her safely to Hagenheim or die trying. It didn’t matter what Valten thought anymore.
After riding for another hour or so, Gabe began searching the terrain for a sheltered spot where they could stop and rest. He hadn’t heard the wolves for a while. He found the river and followed it until he saw a large overhanging rock near the bank. It was sheltered on three sides by trees and was tall enough for Gingerbread to stand under. Gabe gratefully steered the horse toward it.
When he stopped, Sophie lifted her head and turned to look at him. Her hair had come loose from its braid and was tousled, and she had a streak of dried blood, probably from her arm, on her chin. But she was still beautiful, looking up at him with something like surprise and trust in the clear blue depths of her eyes.
His stomach twisted and he forced himself to look away.
“We’ll stop here for the night.”
Gabe dismounted and helped Sophie slide to the ground. Then he began unsaddling Ginger
bread. Sophie helped, then rubbed the horse’s face, talking softly to Gingerbread all the while. He heard her tell the big animal, “Thank you for carrying us so far today. You were magnificent.”
Gabe had never felt jealous of his horse, until now. He deserved her praise too, didn’t he? He’d risked his life for her, and she wasn’t even his betrothed.
But these thoughts were stupid. He was so tired he was going daft. After rescuing a damsel who would surely have been killed if he hadn’t, being chased and having arrows shot at him, and keeping his wits about him while saving Sophie from a pack of wolves … he’d never felt so alive.
Once Gingerbread was taken care of and set free to drink and graze on the new grass on the river bank, Gabe turned to Sophie.
“Take off that bandage and wash your arm.” He’d never get away with barking orders to his sisters that way, but he imagined Sophie understood.
“What about you?” She stepped up to him.
“Me?”
“Your face.” She reached out and ran her fingertips along the edge of his bruised cheekbone.
Her feather-light touch created a tingling sensation that spread down to his stomach. He swallowed and drew in a shallow breath. “It’s nothing.” He turned away from her to his saddlebag and found the roll of clean bandages he’d brought. He yanked out a blanket — the only blanket he’d brought with him besides the sweaty horse blanket that had been under Gingerbread’s saddle. When he turned around again, Sophie was gone.
He spread the horse blanket on the ground to dry, as far under the rock outcropping as he could get. Then he loaded his crossbow with another bolt.
Looking around, he saw Gingerbread, calmly grazing. And he barely made out the edge of the river. But he didn’t see Sophie anywhere. The only sound was his horse cropping the shoots of grass a few feet away. Where was she? God, let her be all right.
Chapter 10
Sophie bent, dipping her hand in the stream for a drink. The water was cold and tasted good.
Poor Gabe. How tired he must be after all he’d been through today. She wanted to apologize to him for what he’d suffered to save her. He had barely spoken all day, although it had been hard to talk while riding. But since the archer had shot at them and chased them into the ravine, he’d been very short with her. Perhaps he was only tired and focused on getting to safety. Or perhaps he was angry about all the trouble she’d caused him.
She hoped he didn’t resent her. Brothers didn’t mind risking their lives for their sisters, did they?
Although at times she didn’t feel very sisterly toward him. Today, he had pulled her up into the saddle and taken her away from the duchess, he had taken care of her when the archer was shooting at them, he had saved her from the wolf … He made her feel so safe, so protected, in a way she’d never felt before. And he was so handsome, the way his brown hair lay thick across his forehead. Once or twice she’d looked back at him and seen such a look of compassion in his brown eyes it had made her heart flop around like a fish on dry land.
In those moments, she did not feel what a sister would feel for a brother. But that would no doubt pass. She would simply ignore the fact that sometimes when he looked into her eyes, her breath left her and she felt a bit weak in the knees. She could never admit those feelings, and if she continued to ignore them, they would go away. She would pretend she had only sisterly thoughts about him. Just as she pretended to Duchess Ermengard that she wasn’t afraid. Just as she pretended she didn’t mind spending time in the dungeon, that she didn’t hate the duchess. Ignoring her pain had made her life bearable.
Grateful to be off the horse’s back and on firm ground, she sank her hands into the water and brought them up to scrub her face. The coolness in the air chilled her wet skin and made her shiver. She still wore her apron, and she lifted it to dry her face. Next, she obediently untied the makeshift bandage and dipped her arm into the cold water up to her elbow. The wound began to throb again, but she ignored it as she held it underwater and smoothed away the dried blood with her fingers. When she finally got it clean, she held it up to the moonlight. The arrow had sliced from her elbow to her wrist, but it didn’t look terribly deep.
She dried her arm on her apron, then dipped the bloody bandage in the cold water. As she wrung it out, a movement caught her eye. Someone was walking toward her. The figure was tall, but she could only make out the outline. She held her breath until she recognized Gabe.
“Sophie.”
She stood and moved toward him.
“I was worried when I didn’t see you.” His voice was barely a whisper.
“I went to wash my arm.”
He reached for her arm. His hand warmed her cold skin as he studied the cut. “Does it hurt very much?”
“No. Not very much.”
“I’ll wrap it. Come.”
She followed him back to the rocky overhang. His crossbow, loaded and cocked, lay on the ground.
“We had better try to make it through the night without a fire,” he said as he motioned for her to sit down. Then he knelt beside her, took a roll of cloth, and wrapped the cloth tightly around her arm several times. “Our healer, Lena, says that cleaning a wound with water and then keeping it bandaged makes it less likely to turn deadly.”
“Oh. I never heard that.”
She couldn’t stop staring at his hands as he cared for her arm, the gentle way he touched her.
“Our healer studied under Frau Geruscha, who’d trained my mother once. In a way, I guess you could say I’m from Frau Geruscha’s line of apprentices.” He tied the bandage snugly and cut off the extra cloth. “And sometimes the training comes in handy.”
When he finished, she whispered, “Thank you.”
There was a bit of dried blood on his cheekbone. She remembered the cold, wet cloth in her hand and lifted it toward Gabe’s face. He looked uncertain. “I just want to clean it,” she said.
He kept still while she gently dabbed at his scraped skin. It was badly bruised, so she applied only the slightest pressure as she repeatedly touched the cloth to his face. Then she dabbed at it one last time.
“Ow.”
Perhaps a little too hard. “Sorry. But you will heal. Not much blood at all.” A self-consciousness came over her but she stifled it. There was nothing wrong with her trying to care for his injury.
He picked up the bag that had been tied to the back of Gingerbread’s saddle and opened it. “Now let’s see what your cook packed us.”
Sophie forgot about awkwardness as they happily perused the contents of Petra’s bundle. Inside lay bread and cheese and some dried fruit. Gabe broke off a piece of bread and handed it to her, then did the same with the large wedge of cheese. They ate silently. Sophie hadn’t eaten since breakfast, and the food made her feel better, but also sleepier.
Gabe picked up his crossbow and sat near the horse blanket, bracing himself against the rock. He set the weapon by his leg and handed her a dry, clean blanket. “Let’s try to get some rest.”
The blanket was not very large. Sophie hesitated.
“I can sleep sitting up.” He demonstrated by leaning his back against the rock. “I’m sorry I only have the one blanket.”
It was spring but the night was cold. She was even shivering a bit. Gabe was only being chivalrous by offering her the only blanket. He needed it as much as she did; neither of them was wearing very warm clothes.
“We can share it.” Sophie shook out the fabric. It was made of wool and would be very warm. She spread it over Gabe’s lap, then lay down with her feet next to him, her head toward the river. Lying this way, they were both covered.
“Good night, Sophie.”
She could just make out his smile in the dim light. Then she remembered the apology she wanted to make to him. “I’m very sorry for all the trouble I’ve caused you. You were almost killed more than once today, because of me.”
“Sophie.” He stopped and sighed.
She waited for him to go on. Would he
say he was sorry he had ever left his comfortable home to come and find her? That he hadn’t expected this to be so difficult? That he wished he had let his brother come for her?
He shook his head. “I want you to stop thinking like that. This is the most adventure I’ve ever had in my life. Can you truly think I wouldn’t want to be right here, slaying wolves and evading evil henchmen?” His perfect white teeth showed in what little light there was. “I’ve enjoyed rescuing you more than anything I’ve ever done. And I can rub it in Valten’s face that I saved his betrothed.” He chuckled softly.
It occurred to Sophie that he was only saying these things to put her mind at ease, but since it did ease her mind, she accepted it. Besides, perhaps what he said was true. Men were such strange creatures. Perhaps getting shot at and defending a woman against wild animals and evil archers truly was his idea of enjoyment.
Sophie knew she should try to go to sleep, but her mind was churning. “So Valten was betrothed to me when he was very young?”
“Yes. Our fathers signed the document.”
“But everyone thought I was dead. Why didn’t Valten marry someone else?”
Gabe shrugged. “My parents decided to let him choose a wife for himself. Our region is at peace and we have no pressing need to make powerful alliances.”
“Are you betrothed as well?”
He hesitated for a moment. “No one is as concerned about securing a suitable wife for a second son. But yes, I am considered betrothed, though no ceremony was performed and no documents were signed.”
“Who is she?” Sophie suddenly wanted to know all about Gabe’s future bride.
“Her name is Brittola. She is the daughter of a count. When she and her father came for a visit, I liked her right away, and so it seemed a suitable match. Our parents agreed.”
“When did you last see her?”