The Deepening Night (The Kingdom of the East Angles Book 3) by Jayne Castel

plunged his sword into the base of
the outlaw’s neck. Coenwal never had a chance to reach for a weapon, or dodge
the blow. Instead, he fell gurgling to the ground, grasping at the blade now
lodged in his windpipe. Annan’s face was terrifying as he kicked the outlaw to
the ground until he lay still. Then, he pulled the blade free.
    Then, and only then, did he turn to look at his betrothed.
Saewara had sat up, and was doing her best to cover herself.
    “Are you hurt?” he asked, his voice rough from the fury that
still pulsed through him.
    She shook her head. “I fought him, but he was too strong.” She
paused then, struggling to maintain her composure. “They killed Oswyn.”
    “I know – poor lass,” Annan shook his head and looked down at
Coenwal’s contorted face, at the eye which had swollen shut, “and I’m sorry it
took us this long to find you. He won’t be touching you again.”
    With that, Annan removed the sodden cloak from around his
shoulders and handed it to Saewara. She noticed he was deliberately avoiding
looking at her.
    “Cover yourself up,” he said gruffly. “Let’s get you back to
camp.”
     
     

Chapter
Nine
     
    A Gentle
Moment
     
     
    Annan and Saewara emerged from the tent to find Saba waiting
for them.
    “Did you find them all?” Annan asked.
    Saba nodded curtly in response. “We killed all the outlaws we
found. If any survived they’ve run off into the woods.”
    Saba glanced at Saewara then; even in the misty shadows the
concern was evident on his face.
    “Are you well, Milady?”
    “Yes, thank you,” Saewara replied, her voice subdued,
“although a few minutes more and I wouldn’t have been.”
    Annan sheathed his sword, Night Bringer, and turned to
Saewara. He looked down at her feet, which were bare. In his voluminous cloak
she looked small and vulnerable. Her eyes were huge and dark on her pale face.
“We have a long walk ahead of us,” he told her. “Climb on my back and I’ll
carry you.”
    Her eyes widened. “Are you sure?” Her voice was husky from
strain. “I can walk.”
    “I know you can,” he replied, irritated, “but there’s no need.
Climb on my back.”
    Annan turned around and knelt so that she could wrap her arms
around his neck. When he straightened up, she clamped her legs around his
chest. He could feel the warmth of her body against his back, despite that they
were both soaked. Annan did his best to clamp off his mind to it; frankly the
events of this night had put him in a foul mood.
    They set off, following the others through the rain shrouded
woods.
    “How did you find us so easily?” Saewara asked, her breath
feathering his ear as she spoke. “They were sure you wouldn’t.”
    “That was their mistake then. Both Saba and I can track
anything,” Annan replied, his tone matter-of-fact. “We learnt as soon as we
could walk. They tried to mask their trail but they were in too much of a hurry
to do a good job of it. It was like tracking a pack of stampeding boar through
the woods – easy.”
    “The man you killed – he was one of my brother’s thegns,
banished just over a year ago.”
    Annan stiffened at this news. “Really?”
    “He heard of my impending marriage and thought to wreak
vengeance on Penda by ruining his sister.”
    Annan remained silent at this admission. The no-nonsense
manner in which Saewara proclaimed this news shocked him. The lack of emotion
in his betrothed’s voice when she spoke of her brother spoke volumes about her
rapport with him. She had been ill-treated; it was clear in the way she
interacted with men. And after what he had witnessed in that outlaw’s tent,
Annan was not surprised.
    Yet, the image that had burnt into his memory like a brand,
was not that of the outlaw, readying himself to rape his captive, or of the
abject terror on Saewara’s face, but of her loveliness. Even now he could
visualize the lush globe of her milk-white breast and the dusky nipple.
    Annan shook his head to clear it.