Champion of the Heart (11 page)

Instantly, Jordan opened her mouth to cry out, but one of the monks shoved a wad of cloth into her mouth, again silencing her.

Fox took the final robe and tossed it over Jordan’s shoulders, lifting the hood to hide her face.

Jordan’s mind screamed, but her cries were muffled by the ragged cloth threatening to suffocate her. She thrashed wildly in Fox’s arms, but his grip was firm and unwielding.

Fox roughly dragged her out the door, moving silently through the inner ward. “Just stay near me,” he ordered the other monks. The monks followed his command, keeping Fox in the middle of them all, hiding him as best they could.

Jordan glanced quickly over at the roar she heard behind her to see that the blacksmith’s roof was ablaze with fire. The hood over her head blocked most of her view, but she could still see servants and guards scrambling everywhere, everyone working urgently, moving buckets of water quickly hand to hand to combat the spreading flames.

They moved unnoticed beneath the inner gatehouse and into the outer courtyard. Five horses were saddled and waiting at the side of the courtyard near the stables. The group walked to the horses and mounted.

Fox lifted Jordan onto his horse. She tried to slide away, but he swung up into the saddle behind her, dragging her up. She tried to spit out the gag in her mouth and finally managed to free herself of it. But her cries died beneath the roar of the flames and shouts of the castle occupants desperately trying to douse the growing fire.

Fox covered her mouth again and seized the reins. He spurred the animal toward the outer gatehouse.

***

Fox glanced back in the direction of Castle Ruvane. The towering structure was almost out of sight, nothing more than a small blemish on the horizon. The road behind them was empty. It didn’t seem as if they were being followed. He glanced at Scout. She shook her head, confirming his sentiment.

They weren’t being followed. The guards must have been too busy with the fire Smithy had started to notice their escape. Jordan shifted her position slightly in the saddle before him and Fox’s gaze was drawn to her. The hood blew off of Jordan’s head and a strand of her hair whipped free of the confines of her braid. The wind blew it back against his face. It rubbed his cheek as though it was a caress. Fox lifted a hand to push the hair from his face, but he caught the surprisingly soft lock in his palm. He gazed at it a long moment before opening his palm to free it.

He lifted his gaze to the back of Jordan’s head. The lack of pursuit won’t last long, he thought. Not once Ruvane finds out I have his daughter.

Fox groaned softly. That was the last thing he needed, to bring down Ruvane’s wrath on his friends. Why did she have to come out of the stairway then? Why did you feel compelled to bring her with you? another voice inside him wondered. You should have just left her there. But now that she is here, what am I going to do with her? he silently mused.

***

“What are you going to do with her?”

They had stopped to give the horses a rest, and Fox allowed Jordan to dismount. Her legs were cramped and achy from the long ride. The other monks had long since shed their disguises, discarding the robes. And now Jordan felt all of their eyes on her as they awaited Fox’s reply to the big man’s question. She bowed her head, refusing to look at them. At least Fox had not found the dagger hidden at her thigh. But the weapon brought her little comfort. She couldn’t use it against all of them, no matter how good her aim had become. And besides, her wrists were still bound behind her back.

“Just let her go,” the man named Beau offered. She had heard Fox call him by that name. “She’ll be more trouble than she’s worth.”

Yes, Jordan encouraged silently, lifting her gaze to lock with Fox’s.

“I don’t want another woman in our home. One is quite enough,” the old man with whiskers said.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” the solitary woman in Fox’s pack of rogues asked.

“Let her go, Fox,” the tall man added. “We don’t need the trouble.”

Fox sighed and his gaze bore into her.

Hope surged through her, but she dared not say a word.

She knew whatever she told him, he would do the opposite. Let me go, she prayed.

“You want me to cut her free?” the tall man asked and stepped toward Jordan.

“No,” Fox whispered. “She stays. We could use the ransom.”

“Ransom?” Beau echoed. “That could take days. Even weeks. What are we supposed to do with her in the meantime?”

“No,” Jordan whispered. Panic constricted her chest. She had to do something. Weeks. The children would think she had abandoned them. She couldn’t be gone for weeks. She had to do something fast.
Abagail was there, yes, but she didn’t know where to get the food, much less how to pay for it. They needed her. She had no time to waste with these... murderers.

They all stood watching her, tired from the long ride. None of them seemed to be on edge, or even very alert. This would be her only chance. Desperate, scared, she spun around and elbowed one of the horses in the flank with her bound hands, screaming at the horse, frightening it enough so it reared and kicked wildly. Startled, the gathered band of thieves moved quickly back from the upset animal.

Jordan whirled and raced off into the dark, thick forest, disappearing into the night.

***

Fox and company all stood for a long, quiet moment watching Jordan run into the trees.

Fox glanced at Beau. Beau shook his head. “I’m seeing to my horse,” he said and moved to the horse Jordan had set into motion. He rubbed the animal’s mane, calming the beast with easy strokes. Then he sat down, placing his hands behind his head.

Fox’s gaze shifted to Pick.

Pick smiled and shook his head. “You’re the one who wants to ransom her. You go and get her.”

Scout notched an arrow and pointed it at Jordan’s retreating back. “I’ll bring her down.”

Fox cursed silently. “No, no, no. I’ll get her.” He pushed Scout’s bow aside and watched Jordan for a moment. Did she truly think to escape him with her arms tied and her long dress hindering her movement? Fox sighed heavily and walked into the forest after her. Even in the darkness, he could see her shadow moving ahead of him. His large strides easily kept her in view. The thick undergrowth tugged at her dress, slowing her pace to nothing more than a brisk walk.

Where did she think she was going?

Then she tripped over a branch and fell, face forward to the ground.

As Fox reached her side, she was sliding her hands beneath her feet so they were tied in front of her instead of in back. He grabbed her, pulling her to her feet.

“Let go of me!” Jordan snapped. She twisted out of his grip, and Fox suddenly found himself staring down the tip of a dagger.

Slowly, a grin spread across his lips. What did she hope to do with that?

Jordan held the dagger firmly before her with her bound hands. Suddenly, she thrust the dagger at him and he took a quick step back, easily avoiding the strike. “Are you actually trying to kill me, Jordan?” he asked, incredulous.

“Get back,” she whispered.

“You won’t get away.”

Jordan took a step backward. “We’ll just see about that.”

Fox watched her with a growing fascination, watched the way the moonlight made a halo around her magnificently curvaceous body. Time had been very friendly to Jordan Ruvane. Very friendly indeed. She took more steps back, away from him.

He took a step toward her, but she suddenly leaped away from him, twisting her body in midair, doing a sideways somersault over a fallen log. With her hands bound! It was one of the most amazing maneuvers he had ever seen. Then, almost immediately, he felt a sharp tug at his clothing and heard a loud thunk near his stomach. He glanced down to find his tunic pinned to the tree behind him by what could only have been her dagger. Amazement washed through him. How had she...

It didn’t matter now. He had to stop her. He quickly reached up and pried the dagger loose with sharp back and forth motions, then lurched forward to give chase.

But she was gone, the trees hiding her like a blanket. Fox cursed silently. He gritted his teeth and froze, forcing his breathing to slow. Calm. He had to remain calm. He closed his eyes. Silence. Then, from in front of him to the right, he could hear her, moving through the leaves and branches. Running. Fox knew he couldn’t lose her. He would never hear the end of the jabs and ridicule from his friends.

He vaulted into action, ducking tree branches, leaping over fallen logs, bursting through underbrush. Then he paused again. Instantly, he heard her, this time closer.

His heart raced as he continued his pursuit. He would catch her, he had no doubt. But rage rose in his heart that she would dare to even try to escape. He had expected her to be frightened and docile, but she was proving to be more stubborn and brave than he had anticipated.

Fox closed quickly on her and reached out for her, but she dodged left and he grabbed nothing but air. He cursed silently and adjusted his path. She was directly in front of him now. He reached out again and grabbed her shoulder, trying to halt her. “Jordan!” he shouted, his tone insisting that she stop.

Jordan yanked free so hard she was propelled forward onto her hands and knees. She skidded slightly from the impetus and finally came to a stop on the muddy forest floor.

Fox halted beside her, breathing hard. He stared at her lowered head. Strands of her brown hair had come free from her braid and curled around her cheeks. She was breathing hard as well, her back rising and falling with each hard-earned mouth of air. Fox shook his head. Stubborn little...

“Why are you doing this, Fox?”

Fox straightened. The tenderness and confusion in her voice pulled at what remained of his heart for a moment. But only for a moment. He grabbed her arm in a fierce grip and pulled her to her feet, then whirled and headed back toward his group, dragging her roughly in tow.

He hadn’t taken but two steps when Jordan stumbled. He looked back at her and realized she was limping. Her skirt was ripped from her knee down, and a slight trickle of blood trailed down her left leg. Serves her right for running from me, he told himself.

Part of him wanted to stop and make sure she was all right but he refused to listen to that weaker voice inside him. He wanted nothing to do with her. The only value her life had was the ransom she would bring. He yanked her forward, his hand tight around her upper arm. She stumbled, but this time he didn’t stop. He pulled her sharply along behind him without even a glance back.

Finally, he broke through the bushes to where the others were waiting. Fox released Jordan in the middle of the group, roughly shoving her away from him. “We waste no more time. Let’s move.”

The others nodded at him. “Took you long enough,” Beau chided Fox. Scout had a dark scowl on her face as she turned to mount her horse.

Fox turned back to Jordan and grabbed her waist, intending to lift her onto the horse. Out of the corner of his eye, he caught sight of her face and faltered. Strands of curling locks hung damply to her cheek. He swiveled his gaze to study her face. Her lips were full and pouty. The lower one actually jutted out slightly as if at any moment she was going to cry. Her cheeks were slightly red, whether from exertion or embarrassment or anger, Fox didn’t know. Her large blue eyes were sad and full of tears. The years had changed her so much. She was beautiful.

He shook himself mentally. She was a spoiled woman who was going to burst into tears at any moment. Well, he didn’t have time for a weeping, wailing woman. He leaned close to her to lift her.

“Take your hands off me this moment, Mercer,” she commanded.

There had been no tears in her voice, no quivering tone. He pulled back to look at her. The tears glinted in her eyes, but now he was sure they were tears of fear, of uncertainty. And suddenly, irrationally, he wanted to wipe away her fear.

The thought was fleeting and he shoved it from his mind instantly as though it had scorched his brain. He narrowed his eyes. “The Fox Mercer you knew doesn’t exist anymore. He has been dead for a long time. I am the Black Fox.”

“Call yourself what you will. But I will call you a barbarian. A thief. A criminal. A murderer. You hide in the dark like a coward.”

“I am not a coward,” he growled.

“No? Then what do you call a man who steals a woman from her home to ransom?”

“A desperate man,” Fox snarled. He lifted her up onto the horse and quickly mounted behind her, holding her tight against him so she couldn’t escape.

“I loathe you,” she said with all the vehemence that coursed through her slender body.

“As you should,” Fox replied and spurred his horse forward toward Castle Mercer.