Free The Beast of Caer Baddan by Rebecca Vaughn

sharp pang filled the back of her neck and a driving force pushed her head down into the water. She struggled against it, but the water burned her nose and filled her mouth.
    A bright light shined from the floor of the creek and floated up towards her.
    Am I dying?
    Suddenly, Leola was pulled out of the water, her whole body tossed onto the mossy slope. Her clothes were soaked through and clung to her. She coughed up water until her throat burned.
    A wide hand felt up her neck.
    “Raynar,” Leola gasped, her voice halted.
    “You dirty, nosy woman!” he cried. “What have you been saying to Ardith?”
    Yea. It is Raynar .
    “What?” he cried. “You believe me to be unworthy of her? I, the Champion of Holton, the bravest warrior!”
    “Ugh! Please!” Leola gasped. “Don’t hurt me!”
    “You told her to like the aetheling, didn’t you?”
    “No! Please!”
    “I knew you were trying to keep Ardith away from me!” he cried. “I knew you didn't think me good enough to be the next earlmann! I’ll teach you to mind your own business!”
    He bent over her, his large hands finding their way around her neck. His fingers tightened.
    Leola’s right hand crept under her back and pulled the small knife out of her apron knot. The weapon’s handle firm in her hand, she struck.
    Raynar screamed and pushed away from Leola, as if to knock her aside. Then his hands went limp and his whole body fell over in a heap.
    Leola had neither thought or word, but sprang to her feet at once and rushed up the slope. Her right foot slipped beneath her and twisted in the wrong direction. A stinging pain shot up her ankle and leg.
    “Agh!” she screamed.
    Leola set her mouth, determined to get to the top of the slope no matter how her body might hurt. As the right foot would not take any pressure, she limped and stumbled until she climbed her way to the top.

Chapter Nine: Destruction of Holton
     
     
     
    Leola limped all the way to the town’s main road, before she stopped to take a deep breath and regain some composure.
    I’m alive! I’m alive! I’m alive!
    She shivered, first at the thought of her close brush with death and than again for the chilly night breeze.
    Leola gazed down at her soaked dress, bodice, and apron. Even in the dark night, she knew that she was a mess.
    He tried to strangle me!
    As she steadied her whirling head, she found herself surrounded by the bustling movement of a busy town. The women of Holton were scurrying up the road around her, dragging their sleepy children in tow and pushing her out of their way as they went. The very air they breathed seemed filled with panic.
    “What?” Leola gasped, the burning from the stream water still consuming her desperate lungs. “What is it?”
    “Leola!” one woman cried. “There’s the battle horn! War!”
    War?
    At first the words were incomprehensible.
    “War!” the women cried.
    “But that’s not until morning,” Leola said, stunned.
    She listened to the bristling blasts of the sentry’s horn. It signaled battle, either for the warriors going to fight or if an enemy made war on the town.
    “We are under attack!” she gasped, and her right hand made the sign of a cross from her head to her heart and from her right to her left.
    “Into the mead hall!” someone yelled.
    The women went, carrying what they could and dragging their sleepy children along. Leola had no time to return to her own house for belongings and so followed the rest of the women into the security of the mead hall.
    The grand feasting room of Holton, that had only a few hours before held every warrior in Gewisland, was now the sanctuary for the frightened women and children of the town. They went in and found places on the benches or along the walls. When all were inside, the women lifted the bar and placed it on its hooks across the door to keep anyone else out.
    Leola went to the back wall and curled up on the floor. She was more exhausted than before, and now half drowned. What