“What does he plan to do?”
“I wish I knew. When Garr gets into this mindset with his men, it’s best to leave him be. He has a special bond with this group.”
“Do you have a knife?” I asked. George furrowed his brows. “Yes, I said a knife. Give it to me.” He pulled one out of his jacket, the blade almost as long as my hand.
“Can you use it?”
“I think so, if one gets close enough.”
He handed me the weapon. “Good girl.”
We rode slowly on, and I focused on Garrett. The intensity of his face and the stiffness of his shoulders told me it was serious.
A high-pitched cry shrieked through the air, shaking me to the core. I quickly looked around for the source, to find one of Garrett’s men plummet to the ground, an arrow sticking out from the horse.
“Ava!” George yelled behind me. I turned to find him on the ground, running in my direction. “Get down!” I slid off Onyx, and realized that all the Elite Eight were surrounding us.
“Up!” Garrett’s voice demanded. His men lifted their metal shields over their heads as arrows launched through the sky, striking our defense.
George and I stood together, like two soldiers on the battlefield, waiting to meet our fate. I thought of my father and the last words I’d spoken to him. I’d told him I’d be fine, and I’d write to him as soon as I arrived. Now, the only letter that may reach him would be one of my death. My breathing was unsteady; the anticipation of what was coming sent my heart racing.
George reached for my hand and clasped it until my knuckles were white. I blinked rapidly to keep tears from falling. If I had to die, I was glad to be by his side.
“We’re going to be all right,” George vowed, with a small jerk of my hand.
“Get ready, men!” Garrett yelled over the roar of the enemy. In a synchronized manner, the men brought down their shields. George blocked me with an arm and eased backward. I couldn’t see how many there were or how outnumbered we may be; the men blocked my view on all fronts.
“Ava,” George shouted over the noise. “If you have the opportunity, run into those woods.” He pointed behind me. “I will find you.”
“I won’t—”
“Do what I say,” he growled. “I will find you. Hide; don’t trust anyone around here to help you. You must find a way to get word to my father or yours.”
“I can’t leave you again.” It was as though he was saying goodbye. He knew that he may not make it out.
“I love you,” he said. “Never forget that.” An uncontrollable sob racked through my body. I’d just got George back, only to lose him as quickly as I had the first time. I felt as if I let go of George’s hand, he’d slip away from me.
Clashing metal sounded, ringing my eardrums. Our men shifted back at the force of the enemy. A man screeched, and I searched for Garrett, but he was nowhere to be seen. His horse disappeared, and my stomach dropped.
Someone shoved me to the ground, one of my knees hitting something harder than the grass. My knife was laid out in front of me and a man almost stepped on it. I snatched it up, quickly moving back. Two men fought, grunting while their swords collided.
Getting back to my feet, I searched through the cluster of men for George. Pure terror hit me when I couldn’t find him. I backed up, getting myself out of the chaos of men to get a better look. A barrel-chested man suddenly rushed through the crowd like a bear. Following his direction, my whole body froze as my focus settled on George. Holding his sword in front of him, George was ready as the brute held up his own weapon, attempting slash him down. He blocked the blow, trying to push the beastly man back but gaining no ground. George circled the man, eyeing him, waiting for his next move. For the man to be so large, he was quick on his feet. He headbutted George, which sent him reeling back.
“George!” I screamed, stumbling forward. The aggressor looked at me dead in the eyes and smiled leisurely.
Returning his attention back to George, who was on the ground, shaking his head, the man stepped forward. Snatching up a handful of rocks with my free hand, I hurled them at the brute, trying to buy George time.
Glaring, he pointed a bulky finger at me. “Yer next, darling. I can’t wait to have ye.”
Receiving his back, I strode toward the man, clenching my knife in my hand. The enemy raised his sword to take his final flow, when I lifted my own weapon. As I lurched my arm forward, my body was yanked back by my waist. Instantly I started to kick, landing blows on someone’s shins.
“Stop it, ye lettle shit,” snapped my captor, squeezing me harder.
“Let me go!” I commanded. The brute turned around to look at the commotion. He saw the knife in my hand and chortled.
“Ger job, Hanson,” he shouted at his man. “Hold her until I’m done with her friend. Her and I are going to have a little fun when I’m done.”
Hanson snickered. “Yer are in fer it now. Pierce isn’t very gentle.”
“Neither am I,” I retorted, landing a swift kick to his knees. I lifted both my legs, giving him my full weight while I repeatedly stomped on any body part I could. The clouds must have moved away because my knife glinted on the ground in front of me.
I booted him again with my heels, and wiggled, trying to pry myself out of his grasp. George yelled, and my focus went to him. Twirling his sword to the side of him, George glowered at Pierce. Both men faced each other before George swung horizontally for Pierce’s throat. Stepping back, Pierce barely escaped, which sent him into a rage. He bolted toward George, and adrenaline shot through me.
Using my elbows, I tried to land a blow on Hanson.
“Knock it off!” Hansen exclaimed, trying to keep his grip on me. “If ye keep it up, I’ll take ye next.” Glancing up, I watched as a stocky man crept up behind George, sword in hand.
“George, look out!” I screamed. George peered behind him to see the opponent raise his arm. Moving quickly, he stepped to his right and shoved his sword behind him, stabbing the foe in the stomach. The brute turned toward us again, his face flushed red with exertion.
“Shut that bitch up!” Pierce bellowed, pointing at me. I was too far away, maybe ten yards from George, and I’d never felt so helpless in my life. Hanson placed me on the ground, holding my wrists behind me, twisting and pinching, trying to force me to my knees.
The brute fought unscrupulously, kicking up dirt, throwing his hat in George’s face so he could aim to run him through. I made another effort to yank my arms away from Hanson, but he tightened his grip. I tugged hard again, my wrists burning with friction.
“You asked for it,” I gritted. Jerking back, my head collided with his face. He yelped, and his arms went slack.
“Ye bitch!” he shouted. My eyes instantly went to my knife. Leaping toward it, I scraped it off the grass and whipped around to look at my captor. The old man’s nose bled, and if it hurt as much as my head did, I knew he wasn’t ready for another one. He took a step forward, and I held up my knife.
“Come any closer and I’ll use you as a pin cushion,” I warned.
“Ye wouldn’t even know what ter do wit it,” he countered, holding his nose.
I forced a smile while squeezing my knife to keep my shaking at bay. “Try me, old man.”
The man looked over my shoulder and smiled. “Won’t need to.”
As the last words left his mouth, I was swung around and lifted in the air to come face to face with Pierce. Scars decorated a leather face, but his olive eyes were unscathed. He held me in the air and smiled, showing yellow, crooked teeth.
“Tryin’ to hurt me men, huh?” he asked, amused. His smile faded once he saw my knife. “Give it her now.” His voice turned stern and he eyed me cautiously.