The Sapphire Broach

Chapter 10 (rough draft)

Ivy froze. She could feel the cold steel of the man's blade on her throat. He held her tight against his chest and she dared not fight back. His breath tickled her ear, then his lips touched her neck. She shivered.

"Such a pretty little thing," he breathed.

"Let her go!" Kenric took a step forward and pulled at his sword.

"I wouldn't if I were you." The blond man slid his blade along her neck.

Ivy gasped, sure she was dead, but the sword didn't penetrate her skin.

"Unstrap your sheath and drop it here," the dark-haired man said from behind Kenric.

Kenric didn't move.

"Do it, or she dies." The darker man moved forward until he stood next to the blond and Ivy could no longer see him.

Kenric looked between the two men, then at her. His jaw clenched and unclenched. Then he unstrapped his sheath and threw it on the ground.

"Good," the darker man said. He stepped back where Ivy could see and looked at the blond. "Now, tie them up."

The blond lowered his sword, but did not release his hold on Ivy. "Couldn't I at least—"

"No! There isn't time. Tie them up and take their belongings. We must leave before the soldiers discover what we have done." He faced Kenric. "I do want to thank you for aiding in our escape. You see, we are thieves. Just before we stumbled upon you we robbed a wealthy man's carriage. The soldiers you feared were likely searching for us instead. Now, thanks to you, we have slipped by them without any trouble. And, thanks again to you, we have inherited another horse, a handsome sword, and whatever else you have in your packs.

Kenric growled. "You will not take my horse."

The dark-haired man laughed. "Either we take the horse, or we take the girl. You choose."

Kenric looked at Ivy and she feared he might choose to save his horse. She knew he loved Sweetie, and she was no more than a stranger to him—a burden that just kept causing him grief.

He said nothing.

"Which will it be? I know my friend here would love to take the girl. I am not sure I would mind so much either."

The blond pulled Ivy even tighter against him and rubbed her cheek with his bearded chin. She shuddered.

"Take my horse."

Ivy heard the pain in Kenric's voice. She should have listened to him. He had been right to not trust the men. They were evil and despicable people. How grateful she felt to have fallen into Kenric's hands at the beginning of her journey instead of theirs.

"Very well." The dark haired man grabbed Ivy away from the blond and thrust her toward Kenric, who drew her to him.

"You cannot do this!" She pulled away from the pounding in Kenric's chest. She had to stop them from taking his horse. It wasn't fair!

"Hush." He put restraining hands on her arms.

"Darling," the dark-haired man said, "we can do whatever we please." He picked up Kenric's discarded sword, unsheathed it, and pointed it at them. "Sit!"

Kenric pulled her down until they both sat on the ground. The two men surrounded them and tied their hands, then their feet. The blond shifted Ivy until she sat back-to-back with Kenric, then he tied them together around their arms and waists. He smiled, showing his rotting teeth, then picked up strands of the dirty tunic and shoved them in Ivy's mouth. She nearly vomited.

"Thank you again." The dark man grabbed Sweetie's reigns and led her toward the other horses. Both men mounted their steeds and cantered back to the road.

Ivy strained against the ropes and tried in vain to spit out the gag. She felt Kenric struggle, too.

"I told you not to trust those men," he said, obviously not gagged the way she was. "Now we are stuck here while they march away with my horse! I nearly chose for them to take you instead. It surely would have left me with less of a headache."

He continued to gripe, but Ivy quit listening. Instead, she worked her bound hands toward the secret pocket of her dress. The pin on the broach was sharp. Perhaps she could use it to cut the ropes.

"I would be half-way home if I hadn't come back for you. At this rate, I will be twenty-five before I get there—if I ever make it alive!"

She squirmed her hand in and felt around for the broach. The rope binding her hands made it hard to reach, but she finally grasped it. She opened the pin and worked it to the back of her hands. She poked herself several times in the process, but finally got the pin to the rope around her arms and stomach.

She wished for a knife instead, but the pin would have to do. She rubbed it back and forth along the rope. Nothing seemed to happen. She grunted with the effort.

"What is wrong with you anyway that you attract such calamity?" Kenric continued his tirade. "From the moment I saw you roll down that hill it has been one disaster after another. I spent two years in the king's army and never had as much trouble as I have had in one day with you."

Ivy felt a snap, but the rope still wouldn't budge. Her arm ached, but she continued to rub the broach's pin across the threads.

"Would you hold still? Shaking us to death will not these bands."

At that moment, the pin snapped through several more strands of the rope. The rope fell to the ground.

Kenric spun around. "How did you . . . ?"

Ivy made sure the broach was securely hidden within her hands, then shook her head. She pulled the disgusting gag from her mouth and coughed and spit to rid her mouth of the foul taste.

Through the corner of her eye, she saw Kenric hop to a tree and rub the rope on his hands against a rough branch until the threads snapped. Then he untied his feet.

"Here." He walked back toward her. "Let me help you."

He took her hands in his and worked at the rope. Ivy felt her pulse quicken, but whether from his touch, or his nearness to the broach, she couldn't tell. Then, as the last of the rope fell away from her hands, the broach slipped from her fingers and landed face up in the dirt.

"What is that?" Kenric bent to pick it up.

Desperation filled Ivy with an uncontrolled panic. She dove at him and knocked him to the ground. She landed on top of him, then scrambled away with feet still tied together. Her hand clasped over the broach and she tucked it back in her pocket.

"What in the name of King George are you doing?" Kenric cried. He got back to his feet and brushed dirt off himself. He looked down at her with a rather angry expression.

"I-I am sorry. I stumbled with these ropes binding my feet." She prayed his irritation would be great enough to forget about the broach.

He shook his head and took a deep breath, as though willing himself to calm down, then he bent down and untied her feet. "There." He did not bother to help her stand.

She scrambled to her feet and shook dirt and branches from her dress. Kenric reached out and plucked a stick from her hair, then he turned and walked away.

"Wait!" Ivy called after him. "Where are you going?"

"To get my horse back," he called over his shoulder.

Ivy hitched up her skirt and hurried after him.