Free His Captive by Diana J. Cosby Page A

no experience in the woods much less knowledge of how to survive on her own. The few forays into the forest as a child to pick herbs with her mother hardly gave her the experience she needed now. The upkeep of Rothfield Castle allowed little time for such details as well.
    And what if the need arose to protect herself?
    Alexander’s dagger.
    She groaned. In her haste, she hadn’t even thought of taking that. She dismissed the idea of returning for the weapon. What good would it do? She didn’t know how to use the knife for defense, much less to catch game.
    Her only hope was to keep her bearing straight and press on. She would make it home.
    She had to.
    But with each foreign sound that echoed through the dense stand of the woods, doubts of her success increased.

    Alexander shifted. Pain hammered through his skull with a smithy’s accuracy. He opened his eyes. The piercing rays of the sun sent a fresh burst of pain through his head. He snapped his eyelids shut, refusing to risk opening them and invite further misery. His thoughts stumbled and slid around in his mind. Had a mace bashed his head? Was he amidst a battle?
    He gripped his dagger and listened, braced to move out of the way of danger. No grunts of horses colliding reached him. No scrape of blades. No screams of men as they died. If he hadn’t been felled in battle, what then? Where was he?
    Water gurgled a short distance away. Birds chirped in the trees. A gust of wind sent the leaves into a chaotic dance.
    A slight shuffle sounded nearby. Then a warm breath feathered across his cheek. A velvet caress brushed his forehead, then nudged his shoulder.
    At the gentle touch, memories flooded his mind. Nichola being sick. Him tending to her by the stream. Refilling the water pouch. Then . . . darkness.
    The soft, cool dampness of moss against his back registered in his mind. Then the weight of a blanket became apparent. Nichola had covered him. Whatever had happened to him, she’d not run, but had remained to tend to him.
    “I am awake.” Whispering didn’t prevent another bolt of agony from skewering his brain. “A moment, lass.” After a slow deep breath and preparing himself for the intensity of the sunlight, Alexander opened his eyes.
    And stared straight into the hairy muzzle of his horse.
    “Nichola?”
    The bay nickered softly. With a soft snort, his horse dropped his massive head and nudged his shoulder.
    What the devil? Alexander gritted his teeth and shoved to a sitting position. The blanket that was draped across his chest rolled onto his lap. The woods came into dizzying focus. A frown settled on his brow as he scanned his surroundings. He didn’t see her.
    “Nichola?”
    Alexander tensed. Had someone attacked him and stolen her? Maybe one of the men from the tavern had followed them and while he was busy fetching water, they’d clouted him. His pulse raced as he searched for any sign of a struggle.
    Nothing.
    Why did his head ache? Tenderly, he probed the back of his head where the throbbing was most intense. His fingers skimmed over a large bump covered with a sticky ooze. No, not ooze. He drew his hand away and stared down at his fingers.
    Blood coated his fingers.
    He noticed a curved limb lying inches away.
    Had Nichola . . . no. She wouldn’t hit him. Aye, he’d abducted her, but he’d reassured her many times over during this journey that she was safe. A fact proven yesterday at the church ruins when she’d turned to him for comfort. Until he’d mentioned her brother’s name. Then the warmth in her eyes had faded and she’d stared at him as if the enemy.
    He wanted to believe she hadn’t ambushed him. Sadly, no other explanation fit. It accounted for why he’d not heard anyone’s approach. And why, he, a seasoned knight with many a battle behind him, had been caught off guard.
    Anger churned inside him like bubbles inside a boiling cauldron. So this was her repayment of his trust? So be it. When he caught her—and he