Page 48 of The Guardian's Witch

“Peter, keep your elbow down. Darby, your right foot, bring it forward. Don’t give him your chest as a target.”

The boys had worked their way to the terrace doors. Peter stepped back to avoid a blow and pushed the doors open. They took their training to the terrace. Alex followed them.

Thick vapor poured out of their mouths as the cold air hit them. It didn’t slow them down. The boys kept up a quick pace. They were indeed very evenly matched.

Alex noticed that Peter was driving Darby to the back of the terrace. Did he intend to take the fight into the garden? Suddenly Darby’s sword was in the air and the boy’s arms windmilled. Peter stood with his sword at Darby’s chest and a satisfied look on his face. Darby hit the ground hard.

“Yield,” demanded Peter.

“Yield,” responded Darby.

Peter gave Darby his hand and helped him up.

“Good move, Peter. I forgot about the ice on the terrace.” Darby rubbed his backside. “I won’t forget again.”

Peter turned to Alex. “Thank you, sir. I’ve never beaten Darby before. He’s always outlasted me. How’d we do?”

“Peter, you knew about the ice on the terrace?”

“Yes, sir. I slide across it all the time. It’s there from late fall through early spring.”

“Good thinking.” He roughed the boy’s hair. “I’ll speak to Gareth and Robby. Now off with you both.”

“Thank you, sir.”

Alex turned and saw one of his soldiers approaching.

“M’lord.”

“Yes?”

“The captain reports coaches are approaching. He has sent an escort.” The man saluted and left.

Alex watched the boys march off with their swords over their shoulders in animated conversation. If only the situation with Lisbeth were as easy to resolve. He stepped into the garden and trudged around to the kitchen. Faith. He’d rather go into battle, or maybe just slide across the ice.

* * *

Lisbeth stood at the large kitchen table, mounds of onions and carrots scattered in front of her. One after another she chopped up the vegetables. The monotony suited her. She didn’t want to talk to anyone or think of anything. Her anger was spent but the questions remained.

How did this all happen? She had gone to the lodge to make certain Laura was safe. That’s all. Instead she had found Bryce there, hurt and in need of help. There were too many unanswered questions. How did he unsaddle his horse and draw up the water? How was he able to lay the fire? Where did all the blood come from? Puncture woods didn’t bleed that much. And how had Bryce recovered so quickly? It was only a few hours before that he had needed help back to Ravencroft.

She stopped, the knife poised. She was so stunned by Alex’s declaration that she hadn’t focused on what Bryce said. Sanctuary? She hadn’t asked him for sanctuary. She chopped some more. Her mind reeled as she remembered. Shock yielded quickly to fury. No wonder Alex had jumped to conclusions. They had both been manipulated.

“Lisbeth.”

She glanced over her shoulder. Alex was at the garden door.

“Walk with me in the garden.” He stood with his hands on his hips.

She would not be timid and pliable. In their place was determination and courage. She wiped her hands, took her cloak off the peg, and walked out the garden door. Alex led the way.

They wended their way to the middle of the garden. She took a seat on the bench in front of the garden house. She stared straight ahead with her hands tightly clasped in her lap and watched the muscles work in his jaw as they flexed with irritation. By the set of his shoulders she knew his back was tense. She had no thought to alleviate his discomfort. Alex paced in front of her. She thought he would wear out the small patch.

She stole a glimpse of him running his hands through his hair. She refocused her attention on her lap. How to tell him about Bryce?

He stopped in front of her. “Here,” he held out her leather pouch. “I believe this is yours.”

“Yes, thank you.” She took it from him and secured it to her waist. She said nothing else.

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