The Dark Knight by Elizabeth Elliott

Author:Elizabeth Elliott [Elliott, Elizabeth]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
ISBN: 978-0-345-53467-5
Publisher: Random House Publishing Group
Published: 2012-06-26T04:00:00+00:00

“All of them are still alive,” Armand said in Italian. He dragged another soldier across the campsite by his collar and propped the man into a seated position against a tree. The soldier roused a little and put his hands up as if to push Armand away. Armand simply slipped the loop of a leather ribbon around one of the man’s wrists. The ribbon was actually part of a set of reins, one of many sets they had dismantled to use as bindings to tie up Faulke’s men. Armand wrapped the rein around the tree, and then tied the end to the man’s other wrist. The soldier’s head slumped forward onto his chest. “Shall we take their horses with us?”

“Aye,” Dante answered. He looked toward Avalene, where she lay sprawled on the ground near one of the campfires. Rami held her head in his lap and stroked her forehead, his movements gentle, as if he were tending to an injury. Dante had not allowed himself to touch her yet, but he knew she was not injured. The knowledge did little to calm his fury. “Rami, go cut the girth on each saddle where it cannot be easily repaired. After you are done, help Oliver string their horses on lunge lines.”

“Aye, my lord.” Rami gently laid Avalene’s head on one of the furs he had dragged over from the lean-to, then rose and skipped off to carry out Dante’s order.

“I will need you to take charge of some of their horses,” he told Rami. “Can you handle six or eight on a line?”

Rami grinned, clearly delighted to be given a man’s job. “Aye, my lord!”

Dante surveyed the campsite. Most of the soldiers had been hog-tied with their own reins, their arms bound behind their backs and their legs bent at the knee so their ankles could be tied to their wrists, rendering them completely helpless. A few others, Faulke and his cousin included, had been tied to trees. Fewer still had roused too easily from the effects of the poison so they had been gagged as well as tied to ensure their comrades stayed unconscious as long as possible.

Everything went so smoothly that he was almost disappointed. A good fight would have been preferable. He was ready to spill a little blood.

He walked over to the tree where they had tied Faulke Segrave and stared down at his enemy. Only long years of mental discipline had kept him in the shadows at Segrave’s camp. A good hunter did not rush into a den of lions unprepared, and Dante was a very good hunter. There was little question that Segrave would be a formidable opponent in a fair fight, but Dante had never played fair and Segrave was now at his feet, at his mercy.

Here was the blood he would most like to spill, especially after he had watched Faulke put his hands on Avalene. His reactions to Segrave’s impersonal touches were worrisome, to say the least. Strong emotions were never good for a man in his position, and what Segrave had made him feel went far beyond jealousy.

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