Page 5 of The Masked Baron
She wanted to believe Papa could protect them, but she sent up a silent plea to heaven anyway. One of her hands reached for her necklace again out of habit, and she tried to remember her earliest memories of her mama to keep her mind clear.
The first howl of a wolf was not as alarming as the several that chimed in afterward. The howls seemed to last a full minute, and then suddenly there was silence. Papa brought the reins down hard and hollered at the horses, causing them to bolt down the road. Andalin’s bonnet flew off, and she held on with all the strength she possessed. The path took a wide turn, but at the speed they were going in the dark, neither of them saw the tree down over the path until they were nearly upon it.
Papa pulled back hard on the reins, but the wagon tilted severely, and he slid right off and tumbled onto the forest floor. Andalin’s body flew in the same direction, but her hold on her seat kept her from falling too. She grabbed at the reins just before they slipped out of her reach as the wagon righted itself. She pulled back with all her might, and before they hit the fallen tree, the wagon miraculously stopped.
Andalin’s panic did not, however. Several musket blasts, men’s voices, and a commotion she could not see commenced behind them in the near distance.
“Papa!” Andalin yelled.
“I’m just here. Stay where you are; I will come to you.”
Their lantern had been extinguished but still hung from the hook, despite their wild ride. Thinking quickly, Andalin lifted the wagon seat and fumbled around for the flint box. It took a few hurried attempts, but she finally managed to light the lantern again.
When she held the lantern up to find Papa, the sight before her drew an unnatural scream from her mouth. A large black stallion reared up on its back legs; the rider, clad in black, with a mask covering the top half of his face, held on and fought for control of his beast.
“The reins!” Papa called, his voice now close as he reached the side of the wagon. Their team lurched, but Papa raced forward and grabbed the harness of the horse nearest him. Andalin frantically reached for the reins with the hand not holding the lantern. As fast as it happened, it was over. The log blocking their path now aided in keeping their horses con-tained.
The Dark Rider—it had to be him, for he fit the description perfectly—sat astride his grand horse, looming over them.
Flustered and trembling, Andalin turned away from his intimidating form and called out to Papa, “Are you hurt?”
“Knocked around a bit, but I am well enough.”
The Dark Rider directed his horse closer to her. “Do you need assistance, miss?” His kind voice belied his frightening appearance.
Andalin found she could not speak.
Papa limped forward, his words soothing Andalin’s shock and fear. “We are safe now, dear. You can come down.”
Andalin let out her breath. She was not a coward. She ungracefully swung herself down from the wagon seat, causing her thick curly hair to cover her face in a tangled web. She batted the hair away from her eyes and pulled the hood of her cloak over her head, wondering if she’d lost her mobcap with her bonnet and whether it was worth looking for in the dark. She moved to stand beside her papa.
“How can we repay your kindness?” Papa asked with a solemn bow to the stranger.
Andalin grimaced at her papa’s gratitude toward a man who had done nothing but frighten them.
“It was not hard to chase them away,” the Dark Rider said, his voice absent of any hostility.
Andalin’s eyebrows lifted, and she was curious as to what exactly he’d protected them from. “Wolves?”
“Men,” he said, turning to answer her, “with wolves.” He dismounted then and, with Papa’s help, easily cleared the fallen tree from the path.
She shivered thinking of what could have transpired without the Dark Rider’s surprise arrival, though that wasn’t to say they were any safer with his company than without. She moved to climb back into the wagon but gasped when a strong arm lifted her up from behind. The masked man stood near enough to the hanging lantern that when she turned, she met his unnerving gaze. She sat down hard in her seat, her heart racing.
The Dark Rider remounted. “These woods hold dangers greater than those we’ve witnessed tonight. You had best get a move on.”
Andalin finally found her voice. “We thought we were being followed.” Though, as she said it, she wondered if it were the highwayman himself after them. “How much farther until we leave the forest?”
“It’s a good hour’s ride, and then the road will fork again. Hold to the left, and another mile will bring you to my home, where someone can tend to your wounds and you can have lodging for the night. I will make sure no one else passes this way.”
By the way her papa held himself as he climbed into the carriage, she could sense his pain. But he graciously bowed his head and said, “Thank you, your lordship. We will gladly sleep indoors after such a night.”
The strange man urged his horse back into the woods and disappeared, gone as suddenly as he had arrived.
Andalin pulled a blanket from under the canvas of the wagon and placed the folded mass behind the small of Papa’s back. She cringed when she noticed the tear on his sleeve and saw the torn flesh, some parts clear to the bone. She swallowed back the bile rising in her throat. She reached across and took the reins from his fingers. He groaned but did not resist. She drove the team the rest of the way, growing more tired than she had ever been in her life.
Chapter 3
Ellison steered his horse throughthe trees alongside the dirt road, where he could follow it back a few miles and stay unseen. His trained ears listened for anything beyond the usual night sounds. He’d grown up near the Black Forest and spent much of the past ten years learning its secrets. So far there was no more sign of wolves or people.
