Ensnared (Knights of Brethren #3)(41)

“Where are you?” I scanned high and low but didn’t see a sign of him anywhere.

“I fell into a hole. One of my legs is broken.”

I tried to follow the sound of his voice, clipping the brush carefully and pressing the ground ahead with the tip of my sword to assess for foothold traps, snares, or depressions in the earth.

“Keep talking.”

He groaned.

“What else hurts?”

“My other leg landed on a pike. The tip pierced through my boot into my heel. Deep.”

I cringed. “Can you staunch the bleeding?”

“I can’t move my arms.” His voice faded, and I guessed he was losing consciousness.

I adjusted my steps, whacking the foliage faster. If he’d lost a great deal of blood, then I needed to get him out of the forest tonight.

“How long have you been trapped?” I needed him to stay conscious more than I needed the answer.

“Forever.” The word ended on another groan.

“I’m almost there.” I slashed several branches. “Stay with me.”

He didn’t respond.

“Frans?” I pushed aside a tangle of brush. Had he fallen unconscious? With the pain he was suffering, unconsciousness would give him a much needed reprieve.

I made it a few more steps before I finally saw the dark rim of earth just ahead. From what I could tell, a thin layer of branches and leaves had been placed over the trap to disguise it.

Why hadn’t he noticed? Or tested the spot? He’d obviously traveled cautiously up to that point.

I inched closer. As I stepped near the edge and leaned to look into the hole, something coiled around my ankle. Before I could jump back, I found myself being dragged along the ground, flipped upside down, and jerked up through the air.

In the next instant, I was hanging head down from a high limb of a tall oak, a snare tightening painfully around my calf.





Chapter

17





Mikaela


I watched each step I took, staying to the path I’d discovered—one I guessed Frans or Gunnar had carved.

The deeper I wound into Hardanger Forest, the more I understood just how foolish I would have been to go in after Frans on my own. I’d only needed to see the first skeleton in a hole to understand how dangerous the jotunn really was. Of course, I’d heard and believed the tales. But now that I was seeing the horrible way that men had died, the reality of what Frans and Gunnar had gone into turned my blood cold.

I’d been the cause of them both rushing into this tangle of terror. If either of them died here, I’d hold myself accountable.

I carried a tallow candle to give me some light, especially since daylight was fast fading. I’d also brought along a torch to ignite once darkness fell, among a few other provisions I’d packed in a sack now slung across my shoulder.

After leaving Kirstin in the castle, I’d exited through the main gate, hustling along and taking care to hide my face. Thankfully, no one had questioned my departure or noticed me crossing toward the forest.

I’d traveled for a couple of hours at least. And I still hadn’t seen or heard either Gunnar or Frans. I intended to keep going all night if necessary. I wouldn’t stop until I found them.

The earl’s challenge to kill the jotunn was ill-fated. If anyone could survive the traps and dangerous forest, how would they find the madman in the midst of the dark growth?

Even now at this very moment, the jotunn could be following me and waiting to attack me. I halted and shuddered, drawing my cloak more securely around my shoulders. I lifted my candle, examining every shadow and wishing I was anyplace else but here.

How had Nanna reacted when she’d learned Kirstin was in the nursery instead of me? I’d warned Kirstin not to tell Nanna what I’d done. But Kirstin wouldn’t be able to hold in the secret for long, and I regretted the pain my going would cause Nanna. After so many years of making it her life’s mission to protect me, I’d slipped beyond her grasp. And now there was nothing she could do to come to my aid.

The truth was that I’d been slipping from her grasp well before today. Of course, I admired her for spending her life making sure I was secure and well fed in the nursery. She’d done all she could to help the rest of my family too, not only giving them food when she could, but finding other ways to supply them with provisions.

But it had never been enough . . . at least not for me. The pulsing need to do more pounded louder within me. Not just for my family, but for all those who lived in oppression.

As my candlelight touched upon the remains of a human hanging by one leg from a rusted chain in a tree overhead, I gasped and pressed my free hand over my mouth.

What was I doing here?

Even on this well-cut path, I was taking too many risks going any farther. I needed to stop now before something happened and Gunnar and Frans ended up needing to rescue me.

However, if I returned to Kirstin without news of Frans, she’d head into the forest herself. I’d have to tie her up and make sure she didn’t go. Gunnar’s warning about tying me to the bedpost came rushing back into my mind. Now I understood how he’d felt and why he’d threatened to do so.

Twisting my head away from the skeleton, I breathed out my frustration and let my shoulders sag. I had to go back.