Page 77 of The Cornish Princess
Revulsion warred with relief as Gwendolyn ducked a swing to take the blade from her boot. She sprang up to cut her blade across the man’s throat, so cleanly and furiously it nearly severed his head. Blood spurted from his wound, spraying her face and tunic—her mother’s gown. More’s the pity, she’d left the breast plate at home, never imagining this could be their fate.And where was the other guard who arrived with them?
He was not here. Come to think of it, she hadn’t seen him for days.
By now, the rich, red-dyed buckskin of her tunic was painted full red. Covered in sweat and oily with blood, her hands could scarcely wield the sword. Every moment it threatened to fly from her hands, but Gwendolyn clutched it desperately, grateful for the grade of her steel, even as she watched Jenefer’s sword snap and spin away.
Gods.
This was like nothing she had ever experienced—a taste of war she’d only ever heard tell of through bards’ tales. Neither did these men intend to leave survivors—a fact that became apparent and sent a surge of outrage through Gwendolyn.
What treachery was this?
Who would dare?
Lifting Lowenna, dragging her to safety—as safe as a dead woman could be—Cunedda was suddenly blindsided by a heavy broadsword. It cut through his bare shoulder, leaving one arm limp. Still, somehow, he cut down his assailant, even as he bellowed with pain, and, leaving his wife, he rushed into the melee to defend his daughters.
Gwendolyn’s heart wrenched at the sight of them all battling together. Borlewen cut down one man—piercing him once through the gut and another good slice to the throat with a dagger she produced from her belt. Thereafter, she turned her back to her elder sister, and she and Jenefer fought together, shoulder to shoulder.
Gods!
What is happening?
Gwendolyn cried out as the sharp edge of an axe whizzed by, nicking her thigh, and barely missed severing her wrist. Málik rushed at the man who hurled it, taking him down with a single swinging blow. Yet another man went after Borlewen, and a sickening fear rushed through Gwendolyn’s heart with a sudden, inconceivable revelation.
The torc.
Her eyes scanned the embattled courtyard, and she noted how many more had their eyes on her cousin’s throat.
Whoever these men were, they came for Gwendolyn.Shehad led them here, and her uncle had surmised this as well. He cut down one more man who rushed at Borlewen, and sidled over to Gwendolyn and said, “Thefogous. Now! Go!”
“Nay,” she refused. “I’ll not leave you to fight alone!”
Cunedda’s eyes bulged with rage as he turned to Málik and demanded, “Do your duty, Shadow! Take her! Go!”
Málik nodded, and Gwendolyn shrieked with protest, “Nay, Uncle! I’ll not leave you!” she screamed furiously. “I’ll not go!”
The smoke thickened so it was impossible to see anything beyond the courtyard, and the screams in the garner suddenly ceased.
“Under my bed,” hissed Cunedda. “You’ll find a door there—go!”
Gwendolyn shrieked with outrage, even as Málik seized her by the arm, dragging her backward into the house. To no avail, she fought his unrelenting grip, even as she watched Jenefer crumple to a hammer—her lovely face twisting with surprise and pain.
Gwendolyn bellowed in outrage, and this was the last coherent thought she had.
“Gwendolyn!” Málik shouted, shaking her hard. “Gwendolyn!”
Briallen was the next to fall. Gwendolyn watched it happen with eyes wide and filled with fright. Her father intercepted a downswing, cutting the man’s belly with his sword, then turned to Gwendolyn to say, once more, “Go! Damn you! Go!”
“Borlewen!” Gwendolyn sobbed, if only to warn her. “Borlewen!”
Gods.
Did none of these men recognize their princess?
“To me!” she cried, beating her breast with a fist, only hoping to divert their attention from these innocents. She dug in her heels, fighting Málik’s grip. “To me!” she shouted. “To me! I am—”
“Gwendolyn!” hissed Málik, slapping a hand over her mouth so hard it stung.
Only this time, when she tried to fight him, he lifted her up and tossed her over his shoulder, heading into the house.
