The Snake, the Crocodile, and the Dog - Elizabeth Peters [73]
They had let their guard down, as they later admitted, when they were almost at their destination. After passing along that deserted stretch of road (you remember it) where ambush might be expected and where nothing of the sort ensued, they were within a hundred yards of the first house of the village when another carriage appeared around the curve in the road, coming toward them at a considerable speed. Gargery drew to one side to let them by. Instead of doing so the driver pulled up and even before the wheels had stopped rolling, men burst out of the carriage.
I saw everything that transpired, for the road runs straight at that point and nothing impeded my vision. I am sure I need not tell you I reacted promptly and swiftly, urging my steed to a gallop. Before I was able to reach the scene of action, Gargery had taken a cudgel (his favorite weapon) from under his coat and smashed it down on the head of the individual who was attempting to pull him from the seat. Bob and Jerry were grappling with three other miscreants. A fifth man tugged at the door of the carriage.
A cry burst from me at this terrible sight and I fear I so forgot myself as to kick poor Mazeppa in an attempt to induce greater speed. This turned out to be unwise as well as unkind. Unaccustomed to such treatment, Mazeppa came to a sudden halt, and I fell off. I landed on my head. Undaunted, despite the blood that flowed freely from the wound, I was crawling toward the scene of battle when rough hands seized me and a voice shouted, “I’ve got him! Come on, lads, hold ’em off!”
Or words to that effect. The lads held them off with such success that my captor reached the criminous carriage and transferred his grip to the back of my neck and the seat of my trousers, preparatory, one must suppose, to pitching me inside.
At that moment, when all seemed lost, I heard an odd whistling sound, followed by a soft thud. The man in whose grip I hung helpless and dizzy (for a blow on the head, as you know, has the effect of disorienting the recipient to a considerable degree) shrieked aloud and dropped me. I am happy to report that discretion prevailed over the lust for battle that had brought me to my predicament. I rolled under the carriage, out the opposite side, and into a convenient ditch.
I was plucked from this refuge a few moments later by Gargery, in time to see the miscreants’ vehicle retreating in a cloud of dust. My knees were a trifle unsteady, so Gargery very kindly held me up by my collar, while my eyes sought the object of my chief concern. “Nefret?” I gurgled. (I had swallowed a quantity of rather muddy water.)
She was there, leaning over me, an angelic vision… [Ramses had crossed this out, but the words were legible.]… her face pale with concern… for ME.
“Dear brother,” she cried in poignant accents. “You are wounded! You are bleeding!” And with her own hand, careless of the mud and gore that stained her spotless white gloves, she parted the hair on my brow.
It was not my injury but the sight of what she held in her other hand that struck me dumb (a state, Mama might claim, that is uncommon with me). The object was a bow.
Swooning, I was carried away by Gargery and we soon found ourselves safe at home. Unfortunately I came back to my senses before the doctor stitched up my head. It was cursed painful. That was when some of my hair was cut off, but Aunt Evelyn says it will soon grow back. Everyone else was unhurt except for bumps and bruises.
It was Nefret herself, as you may have deduced, who saved the day. The villain who was attempting to open the carriage door went sprawling, his nose bloodied, when she slammed it into his face, and the villain who carried me off was deterred by an arrow directed with a skill worthy of Robin Hood himself (if legend is to be trusted, which I doubt it is).
The bow she had concealed under her heavy cloak (the weather being quite chilly) was the one