Read Online Insurrection: Renegade [02] by Robyn Young - Free Book Online Page A

his sword from its scabbard.
    Over the ridge came an answering cry. Figures appeared on the bank – more than thirty men. Some were mounted, leaning back in their saddles as they spurred their horses down the slope. Others sprinted in their wake, wielding spears and daggers. Dogs ran with them, barking fiercely. By their mail coats and crested helms, and the great swords in their hands, the riders were knights. English knights. Each wore a red band of cloth around his upper arm. Robert had a second to take this in, then he was pricking his spurs into Fleet’s sides, yelling at his men to follow as he plunged through the trees. His company of eighteen, three of whom were monks, was outnumbered and outmatched. The woods filled with the rumble of hooves as his men wheeled their horses around and charged behind him. Dimly, he heard a man’s cry echo at his back as the trees closed around him.
    ‘ I want Earl Robert alive! ’
    The shock of his own name resounded through him.
    The realisation that this was no random attack vanished as Robert was forced to focus his attention forward, trees and low branches whipping past, perilously close. There was a scream of pain as one of the squires caught his knee on a trunk, the force wrenching his leg back so hard his thighbone snapped. He tumbled from the saddle, disappearing into the bracken, leaving his palfrey to gallop on without him. Hearing a mad barking behind him, Robert realised Uathach was still tethered to the crupper, the bitch running frantically at Fleet’s hooves. He slashed back and down with his blade, feeling the snap as the leash broke. Between the trees to the right, he caught snatched views of the lough. Thoughts raced through his mind.
    They must have been watching. Following. Ulster’s men? Or, worse, King Edward’s?
    Against his body, wedged through his sword belt, Malachy’s staff had an uncomfortable solidity; more tangible with the threat that it would now be taken from him. Risking a look over his shoulder, Robert saw flashes of colour: a cloak, sky-blue, a horse’s patterned trapper. The enemy was gaining.
    ‘ Robert! ’
    Hearing the shout, he whipped back round to see the hulking mass of a fallen tree blocking the way ahead, roots splayed skyward. He jerked hard on the reins, causing Fleet to veer to the right. Robert swore as he saw Edward and Thomas swerving left behind Alexander and Christopher Seton, but it was too late to change direction. He was committed to the course.
    Harsh shouts rose from their pursuers, punctuated by the baying of the dogs, as the company split, Robert galloping after Niall, Cormac and Murtough. Another pained cry echoed, the sound dislocated in the tightly packed trees. Had one of his brothers been unhorsed? Or Alexander, or Christopher? Uathach was no longer behind him. Robert gripped the reins. He couldn’t think about anyone else.
    They were following a natural pathway of sorts, the trees thinning as the land descended into a valley, carved by a stream. Ahead, another fallen bough lay twisted across the track. Robert saw Niall kick his horse up and over, his black hair flying as he landed on the other side and urged his courser on towards the stream. As Cormac followed, the back hoof of his horse clipped the bough. The rotten wood splintered on impact, but he too landed neatly. Next, Murtough made the leap, the cowl of his habit flapping free from his head.
    Even as he took the jump, Robert knew the monk wasn’t going to make it. His sturdy palfrey was used to track ambling, not this reckless forest pursuit. Smaller than the swift coursers, it wasn’t strong enough for the hurdle. It made a brave attempt, but caught its front hooves on the top of the bough. This time the wood didn’t splinter. The palfrey pitched forward sending Murtough hurtling into the ground. There was a hideous squeal as the horse collapsed, its front leg fracturing on impact. Robert was only paces behind. There was nowhere else to go.