‘Such fiery gold hair,’ Oisin said, dismounting from his horse. ‘I know who you are.’ The other three men joined him, and they formed a circle around Breanne and Rurik, making it impossible to escape.
Her pulse quickened, but she could do nothing when he jerked her to her feet.
‘Hello, Breanne. Such a pleasure to see you again.’ A thin smile spread over his face. ‘Now why would the foster daughter of King Feann be a captive? Did you try to refuse this man as your husband?’
She sensed his unspoken words: The way you refused me.
Breanne didn’t answer, keeping her gaze fixed upon the ground. She didn’t dare look at him, for Oisin was a dangerous man. Danu, why had she screamed before she’d seen who it was? She’d been so foolish, and now they would both pay the price. Oisin believed he was above everyone else, and he still resented her for not choosing him as her husband.
He reached out and smoothed her tangled hair. ‘Not so highborn now, are you, Breanne?’ With a nod to his kinsman, he said, ‘Kill her captor.’
Horror washed over her, and Breanne screamed again as loudly as she could, hoping someone else would hear. When one of the men approached Rurik with a blade, he answered the threat by unsheathing a pair of daggers from his waist. The blades were short, and he would have to move in close to strike a deadly blow.
Breanne picked up the slack in the ropes binding them together. She needed to free herself before the restraints were used against him. She moved in closer, holding the rope so Oisin could not seize it. When his companion lunged towards her, she dodged behind Rurik. He shielded her, but they were easily outnumbered. She needed a weapon of her own. Behind her, she spied a broken branch lying on the ground. It would have to do.
Breanne dropped the rope for a moment and reached for the branch. Though she didn’t truly know how to fight with it, she was only trying to keep the men away. She called out once again for help, even knowing that it was futile. A rush of fear filled her as she held on to the length of oak.
The last time she had tried to show courage in the slave market, her escape attempt had ended within moments. She had tried to fight back, only to fail. How could she dare to try again?
Her mind was racing with thoughts of death or being defiled by these men. Oisin would be delighted by the idea of claiming her innocence. He would punish her for daring to refuse him. Nausea roiled within her, and she hated the feeling of being so powerless to fight back.
The other man reached for her, and Breanne reacted on instinct, striking his head hard with the branch. He stumbled backwards, but it did not diminish her fears. Her hands were shaking as she gripped the branch, trying to defend herself. Although she knew she was no match for these men physically, she had to push them back or die trying.
Over and over, she called out for help, hoping someone would hear them. Their greatest weakness was being tied together. It limited Rurik’s movements, and she could not run. ‘Give me one of the daggers,’ she muttered underneath her breath. ‘I’ll give you this branch. I need to cut us free.’
He gave no sign that he’d heard her, but when he drove back one of the other assailants, he handed her the blade and she exchanged it for the branch. While he kept the men back, she sawed at the ropes binding them. Within moments, she was free. Rurik fought with renewed vigour, now that they were separated. She tried to give him back the blade, but he would not take it.
‘Keep the dagger and run,’ Rurik ordered. ‘I’ll hold them off.’
‘If I do that, we’re both dead,’ she insisted. Their only hope of survival was to fight together. If they separated, it would be too easy for the men to overpower him.
Inwardly, she gave up a fervent hope, Alarr, we need you.
If he and the other Lochlannach could only find them, there was a grain of hope. Her stomach twisted with fear as she stood at his side. She prayed that the gods would have mercy upon them.
Oisin smirked and eyed his companions. ‘When I’ve finished with her, you can have her next.’ He reached for her fallen rope, but Breanne jerked back, keeping away from him. He only laughed, and she realised they were toying with her.
‘You need to get help,’ Rurik uttered. ‘We don’t have a choice.’
‘I can’t leave.’
In answer, he gave her a hard shove. ‘We will die if you don’t. Take my blade and go!’
Breanne seized her skirts and ran towards the thickest part of the woods, back in the direction of the settlement. Both Oisin and another man pursued her, which was likely why Rurik had demanded it. He had a better chance of surviving against two enemies than four. But she couldn’t get caught.
Breanne ran as fast as she could, towards the densest part of the forest. She dodged in between saplings, knowing it would slow Oisin down when he could no longer ride his horse. The men were closing the distance, and she gripped the dagger Rurik had given her.
Over her shoulder, she saw Oisin riding hard towards her while the first man pursued her on foot. Without warning, her foot caught at a hidden root and she went sprawling to the ground. Her wrists ached from landing on them, and she forced herself to grab the dagger and flee. Another tree branch scratched her face, but she barely felt the cut.
Within moments,
