Free His Captive by Diana J. Cosby Page B

would—he’d not let down his guard toward her again.

    Nichola shoved a low-hanging limb from her path, ducked beneath it. Leaves shook angrily as the branch whipped back into place. She trudged on. Every muscle in her body protested, but at least exhaustion was dimming the pain.
    How long had it been since she’d left Alexander? From the sun sitting high in the sky, a handful of hours had passed, but it felt like days.
    In more ways than one.
    No, she wouldn’t think about his death. She was free and headed toward England. Toward home. That’s all that mattered. All that could matter.
    The distant rush of water rumbled ahead.
    Good. She’d refill her water pouch and rest awhile. Not too long. Just enough to catch her breath. But how she yearned to lie down by the bank and sleep.
    The leaf-strewn ground ahead of her fell away to a steep hill. Tiredness blurred her vision as she started her descent. On her next step, her slipper caught on the root of an oak.
    Nichola screamed and tumbled downward. Rocks bit into her legs. Thin branches whipped her face. Shrubs scraped her body. She clawed in vain at the mass of leaves and rich earth, anything to halt her rapid descent. She was moving too fast.
    A large boulder loomed before her.
    She was going to hit it! Nichola crossed her hands over her face. The breath was knocked out of her as she slammed to a halt.
    Mary’s will. Everything hurt. But as long as she felt pain, she was alive. She tentatively moved her limbs. And by God’s hand, she didn’t believe anything was broken.
    Slowly, her vision cleared. She stared up at the large bounder. Moss draped down the sides, which had saved her from a much worse fate and possibly death.
    Another wave of dizziness swept over her. She closed her eyes. The cool, fresh scent of the forest filled her lungs with each breath she took. The churn of the river surged nearby.
    She was so tired. What would it hurt if she took a short nap? Her eyes drifted shut. No. The price of her freedom was too dear. She had to keep moving.
    Wiping the dirt from her eyes, she crawled to her knees. A twig slipped from her hair and landed on the ground. Exhausted, she rested against the padded stone.
    How was she going to make it to England when she could barely move her legs? If only she’d been able to ride, this would have been so much easier.
    Thoughts of the stubborn horse made her think of Alexander, in spite of her vow not to. Grief swelled in her chest. He had treated her with naught but respect. ’Twas her attempts to flee that had brought on her troubles.
    A contrast from her original impression of him. When he’d stood in her solar, all she’d seen was a formidable man carved in ice. A man bred to kill. Now, she saw him as a steadfast man of compassion. Though he was her enemy, his intent for his cause was honorable.
    And now he was dead.
    Leaves clattered overhead drawing her attention. She glanced up at the slivers of sunlight. They slipped through the flutter of leaves, illuminating the forest with random sprinkles of light.
    Entranced by the dance between sunlight and leaf, she basked in their almost magical interaction. The shimmers of light flitted like fairies upon the leaves.
    Fairies?
    She frowned at her fanciful notions and brought her gaze back to the sun-dappled ground. Such was Alexander’s belief. She touched the pendant at her neck. Before her parents’ death, life had held a magical appeal. In the innocence of her youth, she had believed in miracles and unexplainable wonderment.
    An ache burrowed in her chest. No, magic and fairies couldn’t compete with harsh reality.
    Nichola gathered her thoughts. She needed to focus on her present situation, not waste time on the past she couldn’t change. Or foolish notions of fairies.
    After taking the last drink of water from the pouch, she secured it around her waist and stood. On trembling legs, she rounded the large rock and halted, stunned by the vivid landscape before