Only the Worthy by Morgan Rice Read Free Book Online Page A

Genevieve.
    “I will get in
and find her and get out!” Royce called out to his brothers, formulating a
plan. “You all stay outside the perimeter. This is my fight.”
    “We shall not
let you go inside alone!” Garet called back.
    Royce shook his
head, adamant.
    “If something
goes wrong, I don’t want you paying the price,” he called back. “Stay out here
and distract those guards. That is what I need the most.”
    He pointed with
his sword at a dozen knights standing at the gatehouse beside the moat. Royce
knew that as soon as he rode over the bridge they would break into action; but
if his brothers distracted them, it could perhaps keep them at bay just long
enough for Royce to get inside and find her. All he needed, he figured, was a
few minutes. If he could find her quickly, he could snatch her and ride away
and be free of this place. He did not want to kill anyone if he could help it;
he did not even want to harm them. He just wanted his bride back.
    Royce lowered
his head and galloped as fast as he possibly could, so fast he could hardly
breathe, the wind whipping his hair and face. He closed in on the bridge,
thirty yards away, twenty, ten, the sound of his horse and his heartbeat
thundering in his ears. His heart slammed in his chest as he rode, realizing
how insane this was. He was about to do what the peasant class would never
dream of doing: attack the gentry. It was a war he could not possibly win, and
a sure way to get killed. And yet his bride lay behind those gates, and that
was enough for him.
    Royce was so
close now, but a few yards away from reaching the bridge, and he looked up and
saw the knights’ eyes widen in surprise as they fumbled with their weapons,
caught off guard, clearly not expecting anything like this.
    Their delayed
reaction was just what Royce needed. He raced forward and, as they raised their
halberds, he lowered his sword and, aiming for the shafts, cut them in half. He
slashed from side to side, destroying the weapons of the knights on either side
of the bridge, careful not to harm them if he didn’t need to. He just wanted to
disarm them, and not get bogged down in combat.
    Royce gained
speed, urging his horse on, and he rode even faster, using his horse as a
weapon, bumping the remaining guards hard enough to send them flying, in their
heavy armor, over the sides of the narrow bridge, and into the moat’s waters
below. It would take them a long while, Royce realized, to get out. And that
was all the time he needed.
    Behind him,
Royce could hear his brothers helping his cause; on the far side of the bridge
they rode for the gatehouse, slashing at the guards, disarming them before they
had a chance to rally. They managed to block and bar the gatehouse, keeping the
flummoxed knights off guard, and giving Royce the cover he needed.
    Royce lowered
his head and charged for the open portcullis, riding faster as he watched it
begin to lower. He lowered his head and managed to burst through the open arch
right before the heavy portcullis closed for good.
    Royce rode into
the inner courtyard, heart pounding, and took stock, looking all around. He’d
never been inside and was disoriented, finding himself surrounded by thick
stone walls on all sides, several stories high. Servants and common folk
bustled to and fro, carrying buckets of water and other wares. Luckily, no
knights awaited him inside. Of course, they had no cause to expect an attack.
    Royce scanned
the walls, desperate for any sign of his bride.
    Yet he found
none. He received a jolt of panic. What if they had taken her elsewhere?
    “GENEVIEVE!” he
called out.
    Royce looked
everywhere, frantically turning on his neighing horse. He had no idea where to
look, and had no plan. He had not even thought he would make it this far.
    Royce racked his
brain, needing to think quick. The nobles likely lived upstairs, he figured,
away from the stench, the masses, where the wind and sunlight was strong.
Naturally, that was where