“When did you become so full of hatred?”
“What I am full of is justice and truth. I want justice for my murdered father, and I want you to say that he was right, about everything.”
“So, will you hit me in the head and push me in the river again?” The knife was still pressing in between his ribs, but he was trying to buy some time.
“I should kill you the same way they killed my father—with a knife through the chest and beaten with sticks until his face was unrecognizable.”
Westley glanced around. He had to make a move soon. But the oaf beside him tightened his grip on his arm. John pulled out his own knife and held it up to Westley’s nose.
His stomach twisted. How would he get out of this?
Suddenly a high-pitched yell split the air. They all turned around to see Evangeline holding a bow and arrow aimed at the man behind John. She let the arrow fly.
The man screamed. “She shot me!”
Just as suddenly, the man on his left grunted and fell face-forward into the ground, his knife still clutched in his hand.
The man to Westley’s right, with a block of wood in his hand, suddenly disappeared behind Westley’s back. Scuffling, like two people fighting, ensued behind him.
Seeing the shock on John’s face, Westley tried to snatch his knife away. But John did not let go, and they both struggled for control of the weapon.
Westley was slightly taller, and he used his height to push down on the knife handle, pushing it toward John’s forehead and forcing him backward so far he fell to the ground on his back. Westley pinned his left hand to the ground while he pounded and squeezed John’s right hand until he knocked the knife loose.
Evangeline aimed her next arrow at the man’s left shoulder and let it fly. The arrow struck him just where she aimed it.
The man screamed and grabbed at the arrow shaft. “I’m killed!” He stared at her, then roared like a bear. He started toward her, and she tried to snatch another arrow from the leather pouch at her hip. Her fingers fumbled and nearly dropped it. Finally, fitting it to the string, she pulled it taut and aimed at the man’s chest.
His eyes bulging, he stared at the arrow.
“You should go get that shoulder bandaged.” Her voice was surprisingly even.
The man backed away, his left arm hanging limply at his side.
Evangeline kept her arrow nocked. The man Reeve Folsham had attacked first was lying on the ground, still not moving. The reeve had been struggling with the other man, but he suddenly slammed his fist into the man’s temple and he sunk to his knees, then fell forward.
Westley seemed to have overcome John Underhill as well. They were on the ground with Westley holding his wrists.
Evangeline ran over, aiming her arrow at John’s chest.
Westley let go of John’s wrists, snatched up the knife lying on the ground, and stood. “Very impressive, Evangeline.”
“You did well too.”
He looked back at Reeve Folsham. “Thank you, old friend. The two of you saved my life.”
“Eva found out from Sabina where they were taking you. You should thank her.”
He turned his sky-blue eyes on her. One corner of his mouth quirked up. “I will.”
A few people burst through the bushes and trees toward them. Reeve Folsham sent a couple of men to find some of Lord le Wyse’s strongest men to help secure John and his henchmen and escort, drag, or carry them, as the case warranted, back to the castle where they would be locked in one of the outbuildings.
Westley, Reeve Folsham, and Evangeline kept watch over their foes—Westley with John’s knife, the reeve with his block of wood, and Evangeline with her bow and arrow aimed and ready. When help returned, more people came with them, asking what happened.
Westley tried to answer their questions as briefly as possible. Some of them left to follow and heckle the prisoners. In the chaos Westley took Evangeline’s bow and arrow from her, gave them to Reeve Folsham, and clasped her hand.
She followed him away from the crowd while the reeve tried to get everyone to go back to the festival and enjoy themselves.
Westley led her to the clearing where he’d first heard her sing, the place where he’d discovered she’d been deceiving him about being mute.
He faced her, holding on to her arms and standing quite close. “Thank you for saving me, both today and when you saved me from drowning. John confirmed that it wasn’t Sabina.” He took both her hands in his. “I’m sorry I didn’t believe you. Will you forgive me?”
“Of course I forgive you. I cannot blame you for not believing me.”
He was beautiful. After she had heard that John Underhill was going to kill him, her whole body exploded with strength. She assaulted Sabina and held her on the ground. She shot an arrow that could have killed a man and did wound him in the shoulder. She had not even been afraid, because she was too furious that anyone would try to hurt Westley.