Llamrei bolted.
It was not the scared, witless bolt of a horse that has been spooked and frightened. Llamrei didn’t scream or toss her head. She didn’t crow hop or try to throw Britt from the saddle. The mare snorted as another assassin sprinted in Britt’s direction—he was stopped by one of Britt’s guards—before she turned to look at the yelling knights. There was an opening directly in front of Britt, and the mare took it.
Llamrei full out galloped in the woods, a white streak in the blurs of browns and greens. It was a terrifying experience Britt never wished to repeat. Branches and bushes clawed at her face, arms, and legs. Britt crouched low against the mare who safely navigated her way through the woods with an almost human-like intelligence.
Britt had no idea what direction they were going in, much less where they were. All she knew was that the roar of fighting was muted, and then gone all together as Llamrei ran like saddled wind.
Britt peered ahead and saw a fallen tree in the path. It was big for all that it was half rotted. “Llamrei,” Britt shouted as she tugged on the reins, still clinging to the mare’s neck. The mare ran at the tree with determination, and Britt realized she was going to jump it.
Britt cursed colorfully and with great imagination as she set herself in the saddle and recalled the few jumping lessons she took with her sister.
As Llamrei launched herself into the air Britt rose up out of the saddle—holding her butt aloft and body close to Llamrei. Her thigh muscles strained as she tried to hold herself balanced with the reins tight and not hauling on the mare’s mouth.
The world froze as Llamrei soared over the tree. She landed front legs first. Britt shifted her center of balance so she leaned back and wouldn’t crash into the mare’s neck. Landing was a bit rough, but Llamrei crow hopped to push Britt back into the saddle.
Britt was so elated she hadn’t fallen off she almost missed it when Llamrei streaked out of the forest and into grassland. Camelot loomed on the horizon. If Britt could reach it without falling off she would be safe.
As if renewed by the sight of the castle, Llamrei increased her speed. She galloped at a pace Britt had never seen much less experienced. But above the wind that whistled in her ears and the pounding of her throat Britt hear someone shout.
“Arthur!”
Hurtling across the field was Merlin—clothed in a green tunic—riding his lean horse. Charging out from behind him was a pack of giant mastiff dogs. Their kennel master released them and they raced across the field. Britt risked a look over her shoulder, two men on horseback and three archers were behind her. By the set of their faces Britt didn’t think they belonged to Camelot.
Britt tried to redirect Llamrei to Merlin, but the mare ignored her pulling. A man shouted and Llamrei abruptly planted her hand legs, swerving to avoid a spear launched by one of the horsemen.
Britt tumbled off the side, hitting the ground with an oomph. Llamrei screamed and skid and swiveled, planting herself between Britt and the oncoming horsemen.
As Britt tried to regain the breath that was knocked from her something dragged the oncoming assassins off their horses. One fell with a shout, but another sprang from his horse instead of falling, and ran at Britt.
He was intercepted by a huge, snarling mastiff who took him down by the latching onto the man’s arm and pulling.
“Cavall,” Britt whispered as she watched the apricot colored dog attack the assassin.
“ARTHUR!” Merlin shouted, his voice edged in panic.
Britt scrambled to her feet and saw more men dressed in muted colors join the assassins. Britt took up swearing again as she sprinted to Merlin’s side, Llamrei trotting beside her. “This isn’t an assassin or two, it’s a freakin’ army!” Britt hollered.
“I know. Llamrei stand down,” Merlin tightly said before he called to the kennel master with him. “Call the dogs in.”
The mastiffs were laying waste to the armed men, but when the kennel master called on a horn they returned at a lope, Cavall among them.
As soon as the dogs were back Merlin said something and struck the kennel master in the head. The man collapsed and slumped to the ground. The dogs growled, but stayed put.
“What did you just do?” Britt yelped, hysteria setting in.
“Never tell anyone what you’re about to see. Do you swear it?” Merlin spat.
“What?”
“I mean it, Britt. Never repeat this part of the afternoon to anyone, even Kay. Swear that you won’t!”
“I won’t, I won’t tell anyone!” Britt said as the men marched towards Merlin and her. There had to be over a hundred. Where was the hunting party? Why wasn’t anyone coming from Camelot?