The Born Queen - J. Gregory Keyes [117]
As he dashed around the bend that took the road into the forest, he glanced back and saw they were gathering speed, their swords held low and cocked, ready to decapitate him.
He ran another three pareci, hurtling around another curve, and then turned to get on his guard.
The three horsemen thundered around the bend. Mustache had on a fierce smirk and started to shout something, but at about that time, he and his brothers hit the rope Cazio had strung between two trees. It caught Mustache right across the face and one of his companions at the gorget. The third had seen the trap and tried to bring his sword up to cut it, so he was caught by the forearm. All three went flipping backward off their mounts.
Only one of them got back up, and that was the man who had brought his arm up. Cazio didn’t wait for him to find his feet but walked up to him quickly, opened the visor that had snapped shut when he fell, and smashed Acredo into his nose. As the man screeched, Cazio lifted the helm off completely and hit him again. He went sprawling back.
“I gave you cowards a chance to fight with honor,” Cazio said. “It was more than you deserved, more than you offered me, and so here we are, with you forcing me to this.”
Then he turned and sped back toward the carriage, where he found z’Acatto standing over the fourth knight, who was prone on the ground.
“Are they dead?” z’Acatto asked.
“One of them, maybe. I didn’t stay to find out.”
“We should finish them,” the old man said.
Cazio shook his head. “I don’t murder men who can’t fight back. You know that. You taught me that.”
“That’s in a duel. In war there are times you do what you have to.”
“I’m not at war,” Cazio said. “I’m only trying to save my friends.”
“You have to be practical.”
“I’ve been plenty practical enough for today,” Cazio said. “Let’s just get on with it.”
“Have it your way, then,” z’Acatto said. “I’ll just walk over and see if they have anything useful on them.”
“Oh, let’s do that together,” Cazio replied.
“You don’t trust me?”
“On the contrary, I trust you to be you. Anyway, what if there are fifteen soldiers in the carriage? I’ll need your help.”
Z’Acatto shrugged and wiped his sword on the dead knight’s tabard. Then the two of them approached the carriage. The driver was gone, apparently having run off.
Each door had a little barred window, but Cazio didn’t see anyone peering through it, and his heart sank. What if they already had done away with her?
He grasped the handle and pulled, but the door remained fast.
“There’s no lock out here,” z’Acatto observed. “But there is someone in there.”
“Austra?” Cazio asked, rapping on the door. “It’s me, Cazio.”
There wasn’t any answer. He rapped again, harder. Cursing now, he started to pound on the door.
“Step back,” z’Acatto said.
Cazio did so and saw that the swordmaster had the dead knight’s heavy blade.
“Careful,” Cazio cautioned.
The first swing shattered the glossy varnish, the second sent splinters flying, and the next caved in the panel. Using the tip of the weapon, z’Acatto pushed the cracked wood aside so that they could see in.
Austra was there, pale, unmoving, and gagged. A fiftyish man with faded blond hair slumped next to her, eyes open but unfocused. His nose and mouth had drooled blood onto his chin.
“Austra!” Cazio shouted, reaching through the hole to locate the bolt on the inside. He found it, drew it, and yanked the door open.
He touched her face and found it warm. An angry red mark on her cheek and left eye told of a bruise to come in the next day or so. Her dark saffron gown was slashed and bloody, revealing red-smeared thighs.
“Austra!”
He put his ear to her heart and to his relief felt it beat.
“We need to go,” z’Acatto said. “The Church is all over these roads. We’ll take the carriage and hide someplace.”
“Right,” Cazio muttered, still trying to get some sort of response from Austra.
“Help me get the man out.”
Reluctantly, Cazio reached over and opened the bolt on the other door.