Finally, he used what strength he had left to pull the vessel onto the shore. He collapsed beside it.
He did not speak, nor did Isabel detect any movement other than the rise and fall of his chest with each labored breath. She knelt beside Roger, whose breathing was much quieter, and touched his head. “Roger?”
He stirred slightly, turning to face her, yet his eyes remained closed. She heard a small groan.
“Roger, can you hear me?”
He did not reply. Isabel let her hand drop and rested back on her heels. ’Twas time to see where they’d landed and search for their path of escape.
She pushed up to her feet and took a step, but nearly stumbled with the pain that blazed through the foot she’d injured while running from the chieftain’s men the night before. She leaned against the stout trunk of a tree and looked at it, dismayed at the sight of the reddened flesh surrounding a deep gash in the arch. In her panic and their desperate escape during the night, she’d hardly noticed it. Now it throbbed unmercifully.
Had she been at Kettwyck or the abbey, theremight have been time for pampering. She had no such luxury now. Her chemise was ruined already, so she tore a strip from its bottom edge and wrapped the cloth ’round her foot. She tied it in place, then stood and limped inland.
The ground was littered with sharp rocks and low shrubs, as well as trees that obscured her view of the tall, gray wall of stone that blocked any southward path. She looked to the top of the cliff and saw naught but trees and roots. Closer to the wall were signs of a settlement. A long-cold fire ring and an old boat lay among the low shrubs near the rock face.
Isabel wondered about the people who had made fires there. How had they reached the place? By the boat that lay there rotting? If she continued searching, would she discover a path that led from the high cliffs to the low ledge?
She moved forward and noticed a tall wooden cross staked into the ground in front of a shadowy opening in the rock wall. In awe, she walked toward the holy place, certain the cross must be a sign from heaven. Surely it would show her their course away from the isolated beach.
With high hopes, she approached the cross and discovered that the narrow opening in the wall was a cave. She turned and looked ’round for signs of anyone who might have constructed the cross and built the fires…but there were none. Nor were there any signs of a path leading away from the river.
She turned to the cave opening and stepped inside. It grew dark as she walked, but at least it was warmer inside, out of the chilly wind that whipped ’round the escarpment. She kept close to the wall as she walked, but suddenly tripped over something on the ground and lost her balance. She came down hard on the rocks, injuring her blistered hands.
Fighting the tears that welled in her eyes and the despair that threatened to surface, she began to raise herself from the floor of the cave when her eyes, by then accustomed to the dark, rested upon a horrible specter—half bone and half rotted flesh, it had once been a human face.
She screamed.
Chapter 6
A nvrai grabbed his sword and ran toward the sound of Isabel’s voice.
He should have told her to stay close, but it was too late now. As he came upon signs of occupancy, he readied himself for battle, though ’twas almost certainly hopeless. His strength was so severely diminished, he would never be able to rescue Lady Isabel if her attacker mounted a substantial fight.
Isabel flung herself out of the mouth of a cave as Anvrai approached. He caught hold of her arm as she fled and pushed her behind him.
“How many are there?” he demanded, raising the sword and standing firm.
“One,” she croaked. “Only one that I saw. It was horrible!”
Anvrai stood poised for attack, but no one came.
“Was he armed?”
Isabel did not reply. Anvrai turned to look at her, noting tears in her eyes and a quivering chin. “H-he’s
He did not speak, nor did Isabel detect any movement other than the rise and fall of his chest with each labored breath. She knelt beside Roger, whose breathing was much quieter, and touched his head. “Roger?”
He stirred slightly, turning to face her, yet his eyes remained closed. She heard a small groan.
“Roger, can you hear me?”
He did not reply. Isabel let her hand drop and rested back on her heels. ’Twas time to see where they’d landed and search for their path of escape.
She pushed up to her feet and took a step, but nearly stumbled with the pain that blazed through the foot she’d injured while running from the chieftain’s men the night before. She leaned against the stout trunk of a tree and looked at it, dismayed at the sight of the reddened flesh surrounding a deep gash in the arch. In her panic and their desperate escape during the night, she’d hardly noticed it. Now it throbbed unmercifully.
Had she been at Kettwyck or the abbey, theremight have been time for pampering. She had no such luxury now. Her chemise was ruined already, so she tore a strip from its bottom edge and wrapped the cloth ’round her foot. She tied it in place, then stood and limped inland.
The ground was littered with sharp rocks and low shrubs, as well as trees that obscured her view of the tall, gray wall of stone that blocked any southward path. She looked to the top of the cliff and saw naught but trees and roots. Closer to the wall were signs of a settlement. A long-cold fire ring and an old boat lay among the low shrubs near the rock face.
Isabel wondered about the people who had made fires there. How had they reached the place? By the boat that lay there rotting? If she continued searching, would she discover a path that led from the high cliffs to the low ledge?
She moved forward and noticed a tall wooden cross staked into the ground in front of a shadowy opening in the rock wall. In awe, she walked toward the holy place, certain the cross must be a sign from heaven. Surely it would show her their course away from the isolated beach.
With high hopes, she approached the cross and discovered that the narrow opening in the wall was a cave. She turned and looked ’round for signs of anyone who might have constructed the cross and built the fires…but there were none. Nor were there any signs of a path leading away from the river.
She turned to the cave opening and stepped inside. It grew dark as she walked, but at least it was warmer inside, out of the chilly wind that whipped ’round the escarpment. She kept close to the wall as she walked, but suddenly tripped over something on the ground and lost her balance. She came down hard on the rocks, injuring her blistered hands.
Fighting the tears that welled in her eyes and the despair that threatened to surface, she began to raise herself from the floor of the cave when her eyes, by then accustomed to the dark, rested upon a horrible specter—half bone and half rotted flesh, it had once been a human face.
She screamed.
Chapter 6
A nvrai grabbed his sword and ran toward the sound of Isabel’s voice.
He should have told her to stay close, but it was too late now. As he came upon signs of occupancy, he readied himself for battle, though ’twas almost certainly hopeless. His strength was so severely diminished, he would never be able to rescue Lady Isabel if her attacker mounted a substantial fight.
Isabel flung herself out of the mouth of a cave as Anvrai approached. He caught hold of her arm as she fled and pushed her behind him.
“How many are there?” he demanded, raising the sword and standing firm.
“One,” she croaked. “Only one that I saw. It was horrible!”
Anvrai stood poised for attack, but no one came.
“Was he armed?”
Isabel did not reply. Anvrai turned to look at her, noting tears in her eyes and a quivering chin. “H-he’s
Similar Books
