Free Destiny's Path by Frewin Jones Page B

for another stone, but he was on her before she could reload the slingshot. She shifted her weight, sidestepping as the spearhead skimmed past her. Bringing her arm up, she caught the man across the throat as he staggered forward from the impetus of his missed blow. She ducked down, her shoulder hitting him in his stomach.
    Flexing her legs, she heaved upward, using all the power of her limbs and her back to lift him off his feet. His own momentum betrayed him, and he was tossed onto his face behind her. She turned quickly, coming down heavily on him and straddling his back. Snatching the spear from his hand, she threw it out of reach. Now she slipped the knife from her belt and held it to his neck.
    â€œBe still!” she shouted. “Or I shall cut your throat where you lie!”
    He lay gasping, his face in the dirt. She knew he was no match for her—he was a simple farmer who probably had never wielded a weapon in anger before. Not that he wouldn’t have run her through if she had given him the opportunity—she was all too well aware of that. But he could do her no harm now, and she wished to avoid hurting him further.Keeping the knife blade steady against his skin, she turned to see how Rhodri was faring.
    It was not good. He was lying on his back and the woman stood over him with the iron point of the spear against his throat.
    Fool! Branwen cursed herself for not having thrown the spear out of reach.
    â€œLet Baddon up, or I’ll skewer your friend like a pig,” the woman said grimly.
    Rhodri shot Branwen an apologetic glance, as if blaming himself for the turn of events. Blood trickled down his neck where the spear point had nicked his flesh. From the look in the woman’s eyes, Branwen had no doubt as to whether she would make good on her threat. One wrong move on Branwen’s part, and Rhodri’s life would end.
    â€œLeave him be!” gasped Branwen. “See! Your man is safe and sound!” She took the knife from Baddon’s neck and stood up, stepping back to let the man scramble to his feet. His face was red with anger and his eyes were ablaze.
    â€œDrop the knife,” the woman said. Branwen hesitated. Geraint’s knife was her last hope of survival. With it she might be able to slash her way to freedom. Without it she would be bound and delivered over to the justice of Prince Llew.
    But she faltered for only a moment before letting the knife slip from her fingers. She could not make an escape for herself and leave Rhodri’s corpse asproof of her faithlessness. Better to suffer at his side than to live with that burden on her soul.
    â€œAnd the slingshot, if you please,” said the woman.
    Branwen let the strip of leather fall.
    The man with the wounded hand moved toward her, his face livid with pain and ire, his lips tight. “You will wish we had killed you!” he spat, coming close. She stood her ground, gazing levelly at him and expecting the worst. He drew back and struck her hard across the face with his fist.
    She staggered, her whole head exploding into pain, white lightning stabbing across her field of vision.
    â€œA taste of what is to come!” he raged, spittle flecking on his lips. “I hope your death will be a slow and lingering one, and I hope I am there to see it.”
    Branwen straightened, holding up her aching head, looking into his face. Refusing to show him any trace of fear.
    â€œIt’s cowardice to hit an unarmed prisoner!” shouted Rhodri. The woman spun the spear in her hands and struck him in the stomach with the butt end. Rhodri doubled up on the ground with a stifled moan.
    â€œHave your revenge on the girl later, Newlyn,” chided the woman. “Fetch rope now and tie them up.” She turned to Baddon. “And when they are secured, go you and harness up the oxcart. I’d have us driveto Doeth Palas and turn them over to Prince Llew as soon as we can.”
    â€œAnd take our