[The deBurghs 07] - Reynold De Burgh: The Dark Knight by Deborah Simmons

away now,’ Reynold said, sending the boy a sidelong glance. ‘Are you eager to get back to Mistress Sexton?’
    Peregrine appeared flustered, and Reynold grunted, urging his mount forwards. They had been travelling at a good pace, even though they were loaded down with supplies, and he was glad now that he had not brought back a cow, which would have made for a much slower, though perhaps livelier trip.
    Even the bawling of cattle would be welcome along this stretch of road, for it was as empty as before. Obviously, the people of Sandborn, and perhaps everyone in the area, avoided Grim’s End, going so far as to abandon the road that led to and from it. In fact, the silence was such that when Reynold heard a sound in the brush nearby, it startled him. He glanced up, seeing nothing in the dark copse of trees.
    ‘Is it the worm?’ Peregrine asked, his voice little more than a squeak.
    Before Reynold could answer, something burst from the shadowed cover of leaves, hurtling directly towards him. It was no dragon, but an attack none the less, by a hooded horseman, and Reynold cursed himself for his lack of alertness. The deserted track had lulled him into inattention when he should have known better. Although superstitious villagers might avoid this area, travelling ruffians and robbers could not be counted upon to do the same.
    It was too late now to do anything except draw his sword. Although Sirius could outrace nearly any other horse, Peregrine on his smaller mount would be left in the dust, easy pickings if the villain did not follow Reynold.
    ‘Hold,’ Reynold shouted, but a sword came slashing towards him. He knocked it aside with his own, steadying himself as the horse and its rider swung around for another charge. Sirius was well trained and moved with just a nudge of Reynold’s knee, dancing out of the way, and again Reynold blocked the assailant’s weapon. He tried to get a good look at his foe, but the light was fading, and the hood shadowed the man’s face.
    His horse was smaller, as was his sword, but he was quick, competent, and perhaps desperate, which gavestrength to even the weakest opponent. Reynold needed all of his skill and wits about him. Sending Sirius dancing away, he tried to get behind the fellow, but suddenly Peregrine was there, tugging at the man’s cloak.
    What the devil?
    Reynold heard a groan and a shout, and then Peregrine was knocked to the ground, where he could easily be trampled under the hooves of any of the three horses that were clustered together. Instead of running the attacker through, Reynold grabbed at the man’s reins, pulling the other horse away with his own, while trying to avoid the weapon that sliced through the air.
    When it came perilously close, Reynold loosed the horse’s reins and sent Sirius around to the opposite flank. Peregrine’s mount, the smallest of the three, fled in the face of the stamping and whinnying of the larger beasts. Reynold could only hope he had moved the battle far enough away to save the boy, for he could waste no more attention upon his fallen squire.
    He swung his sword in a high arc towards his assailant, but even before it made contact, the man howled in pain. Instead of fighting off Reynold, the fellow swung backwards, as though attacked from behind. Reynold heard a thud, and then the rider turned and fled, his mount eating up the ground to disappear into the darkness of the woods.
    For an instant, Reynold thought of giving chase, despite the gathering twilight and his unfamiliarity with the area. The dark horse was no match for Sirius, and few men could best a de Burgh. Although his pride called for satisfaction, Reynold resisted the urge, for he had more important concerns. His squire had fallen in the fray.
    Dismounting quickly, Reynold kept his reins in hand. Peregine’s horse was gone, but who knows what might have happened to the boy while he was down? Reynold found him lying in the road, unmoving. Stepping close, he knelt to