"I am the daughter of a squire, and reared to fight," Jane told him grimly. She lowered the sword...
Then she heard the footfall behind her.
She leaped aside, dropping into a crouch, and the quarterstaff whizzed by above her head. She stepped in for a quick thrust, but the tall outlaw parried her blow with one end of his staff, then struck sideways at her skull. She dodged again, leaping upright, and the blow missed her head, but cracked into her waist. Pain flared through her hip, but she ignored it and stabbed down at the hand on the staff with her dagger.
The tall outlaw howled and dropped his staff, clutching his hand and staring at the blood in disbelief.
Jane lunged, and ran him through.
She knew there was no room for pity here—that was why she had killed Bulin, not even trying to spare his life. If she gave these thugs the slightest sign of softness, they would fall on her in a mass, and bear her down by sheer weight. Her only chance was to intimidate them thoroughly and quickly, and that meant death—theirs, or hers.
She yanked the sword out and leaped back, glaring at the outlaws, bloody sword and bloody dagger upraised. "Is there another coward who would come at my back? And I a weak woman! Look upon him, and see the price of treachery!"
They stared down in shock. "How did you know he was there?" Lambert mumbled.
"I told you I had been reared to the ways of war,", Jane snapped, "and it is clear that none of you have! Nay, you shall be cat's meat for any band that chooses to chew you up! But I think I shall take pity on you, and be your captain."
They all stared up in indignation and, finally, some anger.
"Ah, they have remembered they are men!" Jane crooned. "But I have not given you a choice in this—I have told you!"
"A woman for our chief?" the tallest outlaw said, aghast. "Even so! Henceforth I shall command, and you shall obey!"
"And if we do not?" The tallest narrowed his eyes.
"Why, then, I shall slay you!"
The tallest kept his glare, though she could see he was unnerved. Jane wondered if she would have to kill him, too.
Inwardly, she was amazed at herself—amazed, and horrified. Something shrank within her, in loathing—but she held her stance grimly. Before she slew Bulin, she'd had the choice to strike or to be raped; now, she could kill or be killed.
She did not intend to die.
"And if we obey," Stowton said carefully, "what will be our reward?"
"Your lives," Jane said, "and gold and silver, for there shall be rich takings indeed, if you but do as I tell you." The bandits glanced at one another. "She must sleep some time," one of them said.
"Not where you would ever find me," Jane snapped. "Come, will you be my liegemen? Or corpses?"
The tallest licked his lips, but nervously. "She cannot stand against all of us together," he said. "Indeed, she must lie down."
"No, you shall!" Rage seized her, and Jane leaped forward, feinting three times to draw his guard down, then lunging to stab him through the vitals. She leaped back, watching the blood spread and the dead man topple, and still inside her something watched in horror—but it was deep inside, for most of her felt only a grim satisfaction. She did not doubt that the man would have done as much to her, if he could have—after he had done worse.
She looked up at his fellows, who were staring in shock. "You are no use to me alive," she said, and stepped toward them.
"No, no mistress, withold!" Stowton held up his hands, backing away. "We shall be your men, we shall ward your sleep!"
"Wisely chosen." Jane let her sword's point lower a little. "And you shall not regret it, for if you do as I bid you, there shall be more loot than ever you have seen. You shall have silver from fat merchants—or the silver of my blade." She lowered the sword's point almost to the ground, and waited. But the bandits did not try to jump past her guard, as she would have done in their placesthey nodded, and Stowton doffed his cap. "You are quick with that silver, so I shall wait for the other. Quick silver is not for the taking."
"Why, then, Quicksilver I am, and never forget that I am not for any man's taking," Jane said with a grim smile. "I see that you have some trace of wit, fellow, which is more than your friends have."
"Thank you, Mistress Quicksilver."
" 'Quicksilver' will do, for I am no man's mistress." Jane was rather pleased with that. "And since you have sense enough to know it, you shall be my lieutenant over this ragtag batch. Now, all of you, lead me to your camp!"
The bandits turned away, but Jane heard someone mutter again, "Sooner or later, she must sleep!" She was about to demand who had spoken, but Stowton said sharply, "None of that! There has been little enough loot for us; let us see what she may bring. Aye, she must sleep, but 'tis myself shall guard her slumber!"
"And so shall we," said a familiar voice.
Jane spun about, scarcely believing her ears. But it was him, it was really Leander! With Martin and Jory coming up behind him. "Brothers!" she cried, dropping her sword and throwing herself into Leander's embrace. His great brawny arm closed about her, and for a moment, she let herself go weak, let herself be vulnerable again, for she knew she was safe—for a little while.
"If any man should dare harm our sister," Martin informed the bandits, "we shall set out his giblets as bait for the crows. From this time forth, two of us shall stand guard while the other two sleep."
"But how ... how!" Jane looked up at him. "How is it you are come?"
"A friend brought us word of what had passed at the castle, and we thought it best to leave Count Laeg's army before his son took it into his head to arrest us and hold us hostage for your own surrender."
"Hostage!" Jane stepped back, hand coming to her mouth, eyes wide. "Oh, Mother, and little Nan!"
"We are here, daughter." Her mother stepped out of the thicket, behind the watchful eyes of her sons, their hands on their swords as they smiled brightly at the bandits.
"And little Nan!" Jane leaped forward to hug her little sister.
"Not so little any more," Nan said, with all the authority of thirteen.
"Nay, surely not!" Jane laughed, then sobered suddenly, looking up at her mother, wide-eyed. "But our house! And your featherbed, and all your... "
"All that truly matters is here." Mother patted a large sack she was holding. "Mementoes of your father, and of your childhoods—and my rings are on my fingers. All else?" She shrugged. "The life is far more important than the furnishings."
"Oh, you speak bravely!" Jane hugged her. "How can you ever forgive me for bringing you to this, Mother?"
"It is no fault of yours, but of the men who sought to use you," her mother said with asperity. "You have done only as I wish I had been brave enough to do if I had been in your place, daughter, and my pride in you outshines all I have lost. In truth, I would not have you do otherwise for the world."
But Jane knew that the loss of all her household goods, all her treasured possessions, must truly grieve her sorely. "I shall have it all back for you, Mother, and more!"
But Mother shook her head. "It is only furniture, my dear, and can be bought anew. Your virtue could not, nor certainly your life!"
"Then that shall be our first prize!" Jane turned back to her new band with sudden resolution. "Quickly now, before the sun rises and Sir Hempen comes to confiscate! Bury these dead dogs and march quickly!"
Apparently the bandits had never had much love for their dead leader, for not one of them showed the slightest sign of rancor. Indeed, they were delighted to scoop out a shallow grave and plant the bad seeds, then to follow Jane—or Quicksilver, as they called her—on her first foray. After all, it was night—and it was only a house.