Bloody hell, where had she come from? A wee lass, not much older than five or six, had just emerged from the trees. Alex watched in disbelief as she started to cross the road that was directly in the path of the oncoming horsemen. He shouted a warning, but she didn’t give any indication that she’d heard him. Couldn’t she hear the horses?

She must have felt them. She stopped suddenly—right in the middle of the road—stared down at the ground, and froze. She had her back to him, but Alex didn’t need to see her face to know that it was struck in terror.

Go, he told himself, looking in the direction of the road leading to the castle. You can still escape. They’ll see her in time.

But it was almost dark, and she was wearing a black cloak . . .

She turned and saw him. Her eyes widened, and for one hideous moment, Alex’s mind flashed back to another. He saw another little girl with wide eyes and full of terror staring at him, but this time from the open door of a loft in a barn with flames jumping all around her.

Flames that he had set.

Oh God, I have to reach her in time. Please let me reach her in time . . .

The memory cleared, but not the sense of urgency. He knew he couldn’t take the chance that they wouldn’t see her. He wouldn’t see another innocent life put at risk—not when he could stop it.

He swore again and swung his horse toward the girl. He didn’t have much time. The first rider had just appeared perhaps a hundred feet behind her. They weren’t much farther away than Alex.

He sure as hell hoped his sword skills hadn’t diminished as much as he feared in the past two years, because even if this worked, he was going to be fighting for his life in a few seconds.

With a snap of the reins and a click of his heels, his stallion shot forward. Staying low over its neck, Alex held the reins in one hand and slowed just enough to lean over and wrap one arm around the girl’s shoulders and drag her out of harm’s way. Turning his horse in to the trees, he set her down. The pounding of horses stopped. Aware of the riders circling around him in the darkness, he told her to go.

Big, dark eyes in a tiny pale urchin’s face stared at him mutely.

Nay, not mute, he realized, deaf. That’s why she hadn’t heard him or the horses. It was the feel of the ground shaking that had alerted her to danger.

“Go,” he repeated again, pushing her in the direction of the trees. “You’ll be safe.”