Ensnared (Knights of Brethren #3)(42)

Chapter

18





Gunnar


Blood rushed to my head as I hung upside down, and my sword began to slip from its sheath. With quick reflexes, I grabbed it so that I was holding my knife in one hand and sword in the other. I needed to have everything at my disposal as I worked at freeing myself.

From up high, I had a clear view of Frans. A foot from the surface, his shoulders were wedged tightly in the hole. His broad girth had likely saved his life by keeping him from plunging farther down onto the sharply pointed limbs. His head lolled to one side. He’d passed out again, just as I’d thought. There was nothing he could do to come to my aid anyway.

The chain around my calf was already tearing through my legging and burning against my skin. It wouldn’t be long before it dug into my flesh and cut off circulation. And it wouldn’t be long before I’d grow dizzy, nauseous, and perhaps lose consciousness.

If I had any hope of saving myself and Frans, I had to act right away.

Could I cut my way free? I glanced at the chain, then discarded that idea. I wouldn’t be able to hack through the snare around my leg without harming myself. Even if I could somehow grasp the chain dangling from the limb, I wouldn’t be able to saw the iron links.

What if I could climb my way out? I was at least a dozen feet away from the trunk and at least a dozen feet from the limb above. I couldn’t reach either easily. No doubt the jotunn had planned it that way.

Even so, getting to the trunk seemed to be my best option. If I could propel myself close enough to the tree, I’d be able to use my sword or knife to stab into the bark and climb up to the limb. In doing so, I would pull the chain even more painfully against my leg. But I had to try it.

I swayed my body, gaining some movement. With the motion, the snare pinched tighter. Pain shot down my leg. Gritting my teeth, I forced my torso to swing back and forth like a pendulum, getting ever wider.

“Gunnar?” Frans’s weak voice came from below.

“I stepped into the snare.” Probably the one Frans had been avoiding when he’d fallen in the hidden hole.

Frans groaned.

“I’ll get free.” At least, I hoped I would before I fell unconscious.

I stretched out my sword as far as my arm could reach, and as I swung toward the tree, it grazed the trunk. A few more swings, and I’d be able to stab it.

Though my leg burned where the chain wrapped around my flesh, I wriggled to gain even more movement.

“If you free yourself,” Frans said breathlessly, “I want you to marry Mikaela and take her away from Romsdal.”

He was giving me his dying wishes. I’d heard such wishes uttered before on the battlefield. And I wasn’t ready to accept them. “Stay with me, Frans. Don’t give up yet.”

As my body tilted back toward the tree, my sword scraped closer but not enough that I could plunge it in.

“She loves you.” Frans’s voice didn’t contain any bitterness or despair. Only resignation.

Even if Mikaela had responded positively to my ardor and declaration of love, she hadn’t said the words in return. Her feelings, the situation, our future—it was all precarious and could be destroyed with just one wrong move. But I took comfort from Frans’s assertion and prayed it was true.

“As much as I tried to deny it,” he continued, “I’ve always known she cared about you more than me.”

“You’re a good man, Frans—”

“I saw the relief in her face when I had to forfeit the money that I was saving for the bride price. But I held on to her anyway.”

“You’ve only done what you think is best for her. And I respect that.”

“She’ll never be truly happy unless she’s with you.”

I wished I were in another place having this discussion instead of swaying upside down in an ever-darkening forest. I couldn’t savor his declarations, could only tuck them away and hope I’d have the opportunity to test them for myself at some point.

As the burning in my leg turned into torturous fire, I bit back a groan and forced myself to swing wider. Nearing the tree, I aimed and thrust the sword. I couldn’t risk wedging it too deeply so that I wouldn’t be able to pull it free.

The tip made contact, and this time, it stuck.

The chain above jerked hard against my calf, and an agonized cry slipped out.

“What happened?” Frans called.

I swallowed the bile that pushed into my throat and took a deep breath. “I’m starting my climb up the tree.”

With the weight of my entire body pulling on my trapped leg, I needed to take the pressure off. I stabbed my knife into the tree above the sword. Then I rested my upper body strength upon the hilts of the sword and knife, giving my leg a brief respite. After a moment, I gauged the distance up the trunk until I reached the limb. “I’ll be down in a few minutes.”

When silence met me, I could only hope he hadn’t given up the will to live yet.

My arms strained to keep hold of the sword and knife. But with as much speed as I could muster, I began the process of unhooking one weapon at a time and climbing my way up the trunk. Because the knife was shorter, wedging it took an extra effort that pulled on my leg. But with each climb higher, the pressure of the chain loosened until at last, I reached the limb.

I latched onto the branch and breathed out my relief. The snare was still wrapped tightly around my calf, but the pain was more bearable.