Read Online Lord of Vengeance by Adrian Lara - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Adrian Lara
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head, then the entire keep, with the anguished howl of a man who had lost everything.
* * *
A wolf bayed somewhere in the distance as Rutledge's mount plunged into a forest thicket with the other two riders at its heels. Raina felt each thundering fall of the beast's hooves, each stride jarring her to the bone so hard, she feared she would be thrown from the saddle. But every wild jolt was countered by Rutledge's firm hold about her waist, his thick muscled arm securing her to the wall of his chest.
Raina cursed herself for falling into his hands so easily. She should have died before she let him take her this way. The fact that he hadn't killed her only enraged her further, for that could only mean he intended to use her in some way to get to her father. She thought of her poor father, beside himself with grief at her being taken, knowing he would do anything to ensure her safe return.
That thought should bring her comfort, but it did not. Rutledge was likely counting on her father's devotion and would use it to his advantage. Despite her efforts to banish the thought from her mind, her imagination conjured all manner of examples, each one more horrific than the next.
She should be brave. She should wrench herself from Rutledge's iron grasp, no matter the outcome. Aye, in light of the outcome. The thundering steeds would surely trample her in the space of a heartbeat. If she were dead, Rutledge would have no bargaining strength and her father might yet be spared.
She closed her eyes and concentrated on the relentless beating of the horses' hooves until it was all she could hear. The thrumming rhythm soon filled her ears and beckoned her to come. Holding her breath and praying for a quick end, Raina prepared herself to lunge from the saddle.
At that moment Rutledge pulled back on the reins, tightening his hold on her and slowing his mount to a trot as they passed beneath a canopy of branches and into a small clearing. The familiar jangle of armor and the impatient shuffling of horses drew Raina's attention.
A group of at least a dozen haggard men awaited, mounted and armed for battle. Most eyed her with mild interest; one man muttered something about “spoils of war” to the chortling appreciation of his companions. Rutledge's arm flexed against her stomach, but he wasted no time with greetings or explanations, instead barking out orders for some of the men to ride ahead while others were instructed to remain on watch for the baron's men.
Within moments they were off again, crashing through the bracken and over the dark countryside at an even greater pace than before.
* * *
Raina had no idea how long they had been riding, nor in what direction. Though she was exhausted, both physically and emotionally, she kept herself alert should the opportunity to escape present itself. She divided her waning concentration between fearing for her life and the practical yet impossible task of committing the dark landscape to memory as it sped by.
The moon mocked her, peering through the treetops as a great silvery orb, throwing light and shadow in every direction, creating form where none existed and masking what remained. Trees and hills, rocks and glades, blurred into amorphous nothingness with each stride of Rutledge's steed. The frantic beating of Raina's heart soon became lost amid thundering hooves and night sounds. Twigs snapped beneath them; branches reached out of the darkness with spindly fingers to tear at her gown and catch her hair as they passed. Naked fear and the chill of the night air raised gooseflesh on her skin.
Suddenly, with a lurching forward keen, Rutledge's mount bounded over the edge of a ravine. For the space of a heartbeat the air around them seemed to still, save for the unmistakable rush of water somewhere nearby. Raina hadn't realized they'd left the ground until the beast came down with a bone-jarring thud that crushed the wind from her lungs and dislodged one of her slippers on
* * *
A wolf bayed somewhere in the distance as Rutledge's mount plunged into a forest thicket with the other two riders at its heels. Raina felt each thundering fall of the beast's hooves, each stride jarring her to the bone so hard, she feared she would be thrown from the saddle. But every wild jolt was countered by Rutledge's firm hold about her waist, his thick muscled arm securing her to the wall of his chest.
Raina cursed herself for falling into his hands so easily. She should have died before she let him take her this way. The fact that he hadn't killed her only enraged her further, for that could only mean he intended to use her in some way to get to her father. She thought of her poor father, beside himself with grief at her being taken, knowing he would do anything to ensure her safe return.
That thought should bring her comfort, but it did not. Rutledge was likely counting on her father's devotion and would use it to his advantage. Despite her efforts to banish the thought from her mind, her imagination conjured all manner of examples, each one more horrific than the next.
She should be brave. She should wrench herself from Rutledge's iron grasp, no matter the outcome. Aye, in light of the outcome. The thundering steeds would surely trample her in the space of a heartbeat. If she were dead, Rutledge would have no bargaining strength and her father might yet be spared.
She closed her eyes and concentrated on the relentless beating of the horses' hooves until it was all she could hear. The thrumming rhythm soon filled her ears and beckoned her to come. Holding her breath and praying for a quick end, Raina prepared herself to lunge from the saddle.
At that moment Rutledge pulled back on the reins, tightening his hold on her and slowing his mount to a trot as they passed beneath a canopy of branches and into a small clearing. The familiar jangle of armor and the impatient shuffling of horses drew Raina's attention.
A group of at least a dozen haggard men awaited, mounted and armed for battle. Most eyed her with mild interest; one man muttered something about “spoils of war” to the chortling appreciation of his companions. Rutledge's arm flexed against her stomach, but he wasted no time with greetings or explanations, instead barking out orders for some of the men to ride ahead while others were instructed to remain on watch for the baron's men.
Within moments they were off again, crashing through the bracken and over the dark countryside at an even greater pace than before.
* * *
Raina had no idea how long they had been riding, nor in what direction. Though she was exhausted, both physically and emotionally, she kept herself alert should the opportunity to escape present itself. She divided her waning concentration between fearing for her life and the practical yet impossible task of committing the dark landscape to memory as it sped by.
The moon mocked her, peering through the treetops as a great silvery orb, throwing light and shadow in every direction, creating form where none existed and masking what remained. Trees and hills, rocks and glades, blurred into amorphous nothingness with each stride of Rutledge's steed. The frantic beating of Raina's heart soon became lost amid thundering hooves and night sounds. Twigs snapped beneath them; branches reached out of the darkness with spindly fingers to tear at her gown and catch her hair as they passed. Naked fear and the chill of the night air raised gooseflesh on her skin.
Suddenly, with a lurching forward keen, Rutledge's mount bounded over the edge of a ravine. For the space of a heartbeat the air around them seemed to still, save for the unmistakable rush of water somewhere nearby. Raina hadn't realized they'd left the ground until the beast came down with a bone-jarring thud that crushed the wind from her lungs and dislodged one of her slippers on
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