‘Easy, boy.’

Blackmane appeared out of nowhere, filling the space where Trahern had been, his muscled frame shielding her from the trees on that side of the road. Her former bodyguard was now on the ground, bloody-mouthed and wheezing.

Isabel went to dismount to help him.

‘Leave him,’ Blackmane instructed, as though he had eyes in the back of his head. ‘He’ll be dead before your feet touch the ground.’

When Isabel looked back at Trahern, he was still.

Hodge continued to bark orders at the men around them while the defenders worked calmly and meticulously under a veil of silence.

It will be over soon, she thought. There were only so many arrows someone could shoot.

That number was higher than she expected, however. It was quickly becoming one of the longest moments of Isabel’s life—excluding the night Maddock House burned down.

Blood roared in her ears, and she had no idea what to do or where to look. Then men began to drop from the trees around them, armed with axes, short swords, and shields. And some with nothing at all, because they were already dead.

Blackmane dropped his bow to the pommel of his saddle and drew his sword while reaching for Isabel with his spare hand. ‘Jump.’

Without hesitating, she kicked the stirrups off her feet and drew her legs up. But then Hodge’s horse slammed into hers before she had a chance to leap, knocking her forwards. Blackmane caught her arm on the way down and swung her under his horse.

‘Don’t move from that spot,’ he barked.

The defenders’ horses were clearly far better conditioned to the sounds and sights of battle. Blackmane’s mare barely moved a hoof as people fell and weapons screeched, the smell of blood taking over the air. Isabel pressed her eyes shut and clapped her hands over her ears. Then she hummed loudly so it was all she could hear.

Seconds ticked by.

Minutes.

Then someone tapped her arm, and the humming stopped. Slowly, she peeled her eyes open, terrified of what she would see. A bloody-faced Blackmane was crouched beside her, saying things she could not hear. Maybe her hearing was damaged from the noise.

Blackmane pointed to his ears, bringing attention to the fact that she was still covering hers. She cautiously lowered her hands.

‘Are you injured?’ he asked.

His voice was surprisingly calm and oddly soothing. She leaned into it. ‘I do not think so.’ Her eyes moved over his face, arms, and uniform. ‘Are you?’

‘No.’ He reached out his hand to her, signalling it was safe to come out.

‘For the love of all that is holy’ came Hodge’s voice behind her. ‘What on earth are you doing down there? You could have been trampled.’

She was still reaching for Blackmane as Hodge dragged her out from under the horse and away from the defender.

He began checking her for injuries. ‘Let me have a look at you. I cannot tell if any of this blood is yours.’