N. Walters - Embroidered Fantasies

Roxanne weaved in and out of the trees, jumping over downed logs and thick roots.

Behind her Michael swore. As far as she knew, he hadn’t ridden a horse before arriving in Javara. She used that to her advantage. She paused by a large boulder, leaning against it as she sucked air into her starving lungs. Her arms were covered in shallow cuts and dotted with blood from the slaps of the branches of the trees she’d shoved her way through. The undergrowth was getting thicker, but that was in her favor.

“Don’t make me have to come get you, bitch. Come here and it will go easier for you.” Michael was working himself into a rage. She recognized all the signs.

A loud crash came from the left. Michael swore. The huge horse he was riding plunged over a four-foot bush. Michael was hanging on for dear life, his face bloody from the slashes of branches.

Good. He might be on horseback, but he wasn’t having any easier a time of it than she was. Roxanne studied the area around her and went right. A shout rose behind her and she knew he’d seen her. She needed a place to hide. She couldn’t keep running forever.

Roxanne lost all sense of time and direction as she ran. Her only thought was to stay ahead of Michael and remain alive. She didn’t dare think about Radnor and Sednar. She could only pray they were safe. They were both deadly with a sword. She’d watched them practice briefly. Even when they were only sparring, there was a sense of lethal intent about them that had made her shiver. Now it reassured her.

The woods thinned and she stumbled into a small glade. She glanced both ways before racing forward. She needed to find shelter and that way led to the base of the mountain. Maybe she could find a cave or someplace she could hide until Michael either gave up or got lost.

She ignored the fact that she was totally lost as well. Radnor and Sednar would come for her. The pounding of hooves got stronger as she tripped on a rock and fell. She put out her hands to catch herself but didn’t quite make it. Palms skidding, she landed facedown on the ground.

She dug her fingers into the ground and pushed herself up.

“I’ve got you now.”

Roxanne jerked her head around, appalled to see Michael only a few yards away.

She dug her toes into the ground and scrambled up. Like a drunk, she staggered but kept going. The edge of the woods was only a few yards away. If she could make it, she could lose him again.

The horse bumped her shoulder, spinning her around and sending her crashing to the ground. Her muscles were like jelly. She didn’t have enough strength left to keep herself upright. The dirt rushed up to meet her.

A jolting pain shot down her arm and leg. Her hip ached. Ignoring it, she pushed herself into a sitting position. She needed to get up. She needed to run.

Michael dismounted from his horse and strode toward her, an expression of triumph on his face. “You didn’t really think you could get away from me, did you?” His tone was the one he used just before he beat her. He talked to her in that condescending voice she hated, as if she were a wayward child who’d done something wrong and needed to be punished.

“Stay away from me.” She tried to stand, but her legs would no longer cooperate.

Not to be defeated, she started to crawl. Her hand closed around a rock. She gripped it tight. It was a weapon. She’d use it to bash his head in if she had to.

It had come down to this. Him or her. Only one of them was leaving this clearing alive.

Michael was reaching for the buckle on his belt. “You know you brought this on yourself. You have no one else to blame.”

She’d heard that excuse, that justification a hundred times before. She tightened her hold on the rock and glared at him as she rolled up onto her knees. Her muscles quivered, but held. “I blame you, you weak sonofabitch.” His icy blue eyes narrowed. “I see you’ve forgotten how to speak to me.” His tone grew softer, almost caressing. “I can remedy that. If not me, then certainly the Luther brothers can. Once they kill your lovers, they’ll find us and take us back to their castle.

Once I’m done with you, they can have you.” He pulled the leather of his belt through the loops of his jeans. It made a heavy swishing sound that she often heard in her nightmares.

Her stomach roiled and threatened to revolt. She swallowed hard, barely managing to keep down the meager amount she’d eaten earlier today. “What then? You’re stuck here.” She pushed herself to her knees and then to her feet. She swayed but didn’t fall.

Michael shrugged. “Maybe. Maybe not. If what I’ve heard is true, that godforsaken tapestry has to appear. Since it brought me here, it can take me back.” She shook her head, not truly surprised. Her ex was nothing if not single-minded.

Everything had to go his way, in his worldview. He moved closer. Taking his time now.

Almost taunting her with his nearness.

“I’ve been waiting to do this for a long time, Roxy. I barely got started in L.A. but I’m going to finish it now. I can do what I want to you here with no consequences.” He doubled the leather in his hand. “You’ll simply end up another missing person on the back of a milk carton. And there’ll be not one shred of evidence to connect me.” She tightened her grip on the rock and waited. She locked the muscles in her legs to keep from crumpling to the ground. Dirt and perspiration covered her body and clothing. Exhaustion swamped her, but she wouldn’t give up.

She had too much to live for.

He raised his belt.

A battle cry ripped through the air. Two huge black horses crashed through the woods and into the clearing. Sednar and Radnor rode like demons. One with their horses, they were like two of the horsemen of the apocalypse as they closed the distance between themselves and Michael. Each held a sword high above his head. They were no longer gleaming but stained with the blood of their enemies.

Michael swore and made a grab for her. She’d been expecting it. She threw the rock at him, clipping him in the temple. He reeled back, blood dripping down his face. She experienced a brief moment of triumph, but he recovered quickly and lunged in her direction. She dropped to the ground, rolling as fast as she could away from him.

As if in slow motion, she could see the heavily shod hooves of the horses tearing up the ground. Their flanks covered in sweat, the muscles rippling beneath their silky black coats, their manes flying in the breeze.

Sednar and Radnor both wore masks of death and destruction. Both were peppered with blood. Theirs or their enemies, she didn’t know. As a unit, they split, one going to the left of Michael, the other to the right.

Michael suddenly seemed to realize just how much peril he was in. These weren’t men he could bargain with or manipulate. They were warriors and they were out for blood. His.

It unfolded like something from an action movie. Only it was terrifyingly real.

Michael turned and ran. Neither Radnor nor Sednar slowed their horses. They both leaned inward, Michael in their sights.

Roxanne couldn’t speak, couldn’t breathe. Two heavy swords swung at the same time, one going high, the other low. Thick blades cut through skin and bone. Blood flew like water droplets in a rainstorm. Michael cried out, but the scream was short-lived as his head separated from his body and dropped to the ground. It rolled, landing a few yards from her. Sightless blue eyes stared up from the dirt.

She rolled away from the gruesome sight and vomited.

A male voice swore and a heavy hand dropped on her shoulder. Roxanne cringed, not wanting them to see her like this. The hand fell away. She used her palm to wipe her mouth. Taking a deep breath, she turned around, being careful to keep her gaze away from the bloody remains of her dead ex-husband.