Free Heart of Stars by Kate Forsyth

see, the horses had been whipped into thismad, headlong rush as the road began to plunge downhill. They could hear the screech of the brake being applied, and someone shouting. Then the carriage swerved, swayed violently from side to side, skidded sideways and then toppled over onto its side. Olwynne screamed as she was flung head over heels, knocking her head violently on the ceiling. She landed in a heap with Owein on top of her, his feathers smothering her.
    She put her hand to her head and winced. Her fingers came away bloody. Groaning, Owein managed to lever himself off her. He supported one arm with his hand.
    ‘How are ye yourself?’ he whispered. ‘Olwynne? Are ye hurt?’
    She was so dazed with shock and the drugged potion Dedrie kept force-feeding her that she could not frame an answer. He helped her up, and she staggered and lost her balance, falling again. The coach was lying at a peculiar angle, so that the left-hand door was buried in an embankment, and the right-hand door was above their heads, framing a patch of sky.
    The carriage door was wrenched open, and the surly, unshaven face of Jem the groom glared down at them. ‘They’re alive,’ he shouted to someone. ‘Blood everywhere though.’
    ‘I told my laird we’d be over if we kept travelling at such a pace,’ someone else said. ‘Here, get them out. Can ye reach them?’
    ‘Toss me a rope,’ Jem answered.
    It was a bit of a struggle to get them out of the carriage, both Owein and Olwynne being so shaken and bemused that they were incapable of helping much. It was a scene of chaos on the road. Lord Malvern’s carriage was mired in the mud where a small burn crossed the road, at the bottom of a valley. No matter how hard they whippedthe horses, the poor exhausted creatures could not manage to drag it free. Lord Malvern himself was standing knee-deep in the muck, hissing at his coachman in a low, vicious voice, two white dents driven deep from his nose to the sides of his mouth.
    Owein and Olwynne’s carriage had tried to stop before crashing into the first carriage, and had overturned. Half of the horses were lying in the mud, and two at least were clearly badly injured. One was screaming with pain, until Jem impatiently slashed its throat with his knife. He killed the other one too, without taking the time to examine the injury, and then unhitched the other horses and whipped them till they struggled to their feet.
    Olwynne had entered a strange light-headed state that was almost euphoric. She could not keep her feet. Her legs just folded underneath her, as if made of old spinach stalks, and she found herself sitting in the mud again, her silver bridesmaid dress crumpled up all around her.
    There was an angry exchange of shouts and accusations, which Lord Malvern’s voice cut through like a sword. ‘We’ve already lost one o’ the sacrifices due to your stupidity,’ he said icily. ‘And the Blue Guards are hot on our trail. We do no’ have time for this. Take only what we can carry with us. Ballard, ye are the strongest, ye take the prionnsa. Bind him well. Piers, ye take the banprionnsa. Dedrie, ye will have to go up behind Irving. Jem, ride ahead and make sure there is no ambush waiting for us. Now, to horse, all o’ ye!’
    Olwynne found herself being passed up to a tall, thin man with grey eyes who murmured apologetically as he settled her in the saddle before him. Olwynne’s wrists were bound tightly before her, and although the man who held her kept asking her pardon, he held her with a grip like iron. Olwynne could only be grateful she had notbeen put up before Jem, who had a hot lascivious stare, or Irving Steward, who looked like he hung puppies for pleasure.
    There were twelve in the lord’s party, with Dedrie the only woman. Three of the men were old, bent, grey and decrepit, and found it very hard to drive their horses on at the pace Lord Malvern demanded. Even when he whipped their horses himself with his long riding