“Take it,” he said without turning, and she felt the weight of the hilt of his dagger in her palm.
As soon as she closed her hand around it, Jamie drew a second dagger from the back of his belt. His sword whistled over her, and a scream pierced the air as it sliced someone reaching for her from the other side.
Linnet cut through the rope holding her other wrist and sat up to free her ankles. As she worked, Jamie moved around the table, slashing at any who dared come close. She severed the last rope and yanked at the black drape beneath her, intent on covering herself from the filthy eyes of the devil-worshippers.
Jamie’s cape fell over her. A rush of gratitude choked her as she touched her fingers to his back. “Thank God you have come.”
Jamie had found her. They were outnumbered and surrounded by black-hearted men and women who consorted with the devil. But with Jamie here, all else was possible.
The sorcerers began closing in, their numbers giving them false courage. But where was Pomeroy? It worried her that she could not see him, for he was by far the most dangerous.
A man in a sheepskin took a step too close and fell with a gurgling scream, blood pouring from his neck and soaking his white fleece red. Another grabbed at her from behind. No sooner did she feel the man’s hand clasp her arm than Jamie’s sword struck the man’s side. The man dropped to his knees, his mouth moving like a fish caught onshore.
Jamie was a deadly, whirling force, whipping his sword back and forth as he moved around the table. By now, the witches stayed well back to escape his blade.
But Pomeroy had not fled to the river. He and three other men pushed past the other sorcerers, carrying broadswords. These four were not soft-bellied merchants unused to fighting. Nay, they carried their swords with the practiced ease of warriors.
Four swordsmen. Linnet did not like the odds.
She got to her knees and whispered close to Jamie’s ear. “Pomeroy is their leader. If you take him, the others may lose heart.”
He nodded a fraction. “He is a dead man.”
Linnet knew she was a hindrance; Jamie would not leave her to attack Pomeroy while the others were circling her.
“We must back up to the wall where Martin is,” Jamie said in a low voice. “I will hold them back while you cut his ropes.”
Suddenly, there was a shout and a blur of movement as Martin shot out across the room. He barreled into several of the witches, taking them to the floor with him. Before anyone else could act, Jamie reached into the heap of bodies and pulled Martin out by the back of his tunic.
Linnet had not seen Jamie use his blade, but two more men in hides lay screaming and bleeding on the floor. Three female witches, including Margery Jourdemayne, fled out the doorway that led to the river.
“Guard Linnet,” Jamie ordered as he handed Martin his sword. “Now get your backs to that wall.”
Now was not a time to argue. Linnet slid down from the table and, holding Jamie’s cloak about her with one hand and his dagger in the other, backed up to the wall with Martin.
Her heart was in her throat. Jamie stood alone with only his short blade as the four swordsmen came toward him. In one quick move, Jamie lunged for the alderman and then tossed him through the air at the four swordsmen. Pomeroy sidestepped in time, but two of the swordsmen fell back as the alderman slammed into them. As soon as the alderman gained his feet, he scrambled toward the doorway that led to the river.
“The alderman will get away!” Martin said, but she grabbed his arm.
“Jamie said to stay here.”
The other sorcerers who were still standing—save for the four swordsmen—exchanged glances and then scurried out behind the alderman.
“I will find you and kill you!” Jamie shouted after them.
Linnet felt the tension of the four swordsmen as they moved as a group toward Jamie. Pomeroy was on the far left, a silver-handled sword gleaming in his hand.
Though Jamie faced them with nothing but a short dagger, he showed no fear. Nay, he was angry. Seething with it.
“Martin, take her out,” Jamie ordered without turning around. “Get her to safety, and I will take care of these foul Satan-lovers.”
“I will not leave you!” she cried.
The swordsmen’s eyes went to her, and Jamie sprang forward. In an instant, he drove his dagger into the belly and up under the breastbone of the closest swordsman. Just as quickly, he withdrew the dripping blade and stepped back with the man’s sword in his other hand.
As Pomeroy and the other two inched closer with their swords raised, Jamie again positioned himself in front of her and Martin.
“Kill the boy, and hold the goddess for me,” Pomeroy told his companions. “We must complete the ceremony before dawn.”