Arranged: An Array Novel (Book #1) by Hazel Grace (8)

Ava

Chapter 7

I’d spent the last two days on the back of my horse, not able to feel my bottom. George made sure we took a break every three hours, so I could stretch my legs and get off Onyx. The weather had been warm but chilly at night. I tried to enjoy the new scenery, but I worried about Papa. Garrett said that he would have men there looking over him, which gave me a little relief.

The nights were my favorite. I gazed out at the sky, from my sleeping mat, looking for constellations that Sam and I would find together. But sleep was something I didn’t get much of. With these radicals coming to Bampshire, it showed that they were relentless. I felt like it was a warning for George that they hadn’t forgotten about me, and that angered me.

Being a woman, I’d use it to my advantage. They almost killed me once, but I wasn’t the same girl I’d been four years ago. It was eye-opening. Cowering and submitting defeat wasn’t in my nature, and George needed my help. If we worked together, the sooner this may end. And being together, to look out for the other, would put us both at ease.                                

On our third day, we passed a little town that I couldn’t remember the name of. We rode through a grassy field, the sky overcast with dark gray clouds, as I studied the scenery. A patch of woods was to one side, while rolling green hills dotted with flowers peeked in the distance. It wasn’t until I heard Garrett order all to halt that I came back from my trance. He motioned for one of his men to come forward and spoke quietly to him. The man took off in haste ahead of us, and George rode to my side.

“Ever been to this town before?” George asked, clenching his jaw.
“Not that I remember,” I replied quietly, as Garrett’s men circled us. They were positioning for an attack; I recognized the stance from the soldiers at the orphanage. “George, something is wrong.”

He looked at me, taking a deep breath. “I think so.”

“They followed us, didn’t they?”

“Yes.”

Adrenaline rushed through every inch of my body. A horse, an empty field, and a few men; the scene was too familiar.

“Garr thinks the rebels may be staying in this town. One of his men thinks he recognized one of them. If one does live here, the others might have set up camp here somewhere.”

“What does he plan to do?”

“I wish I knew. When Garr gets into this mindset with his men, it’s best to leave him be. He has a special bond with this group.”

“Do you have a knife?” I asked. George furrowed his brows. “Yes, I said a knife. Give it to me.” He pulled one out of his jacket, the blade almost as long as my hand.

“Can you use it?”

“I think so, if one gets close enough.”

He handed me the weapon. “Good girl.”

We rode slowly on, and I focused on Garrett. The intensity of his face and the stiffness of his shoulders told me it was serious.

A high-pitched cry shrieked through the air, shaking me to the core. I quickly looked around for the source, to find one of Garrett’s men plummet to the ground, an arrow sticking out from the horse.

“Ava!” George yelled behind me. I turned to find him on the ground, running in my direction. “Get down!” I slid off Onyx, and realized that all the Elite Eight were surrounding us.

“Up!” Garrett’s voice demanded. His men lifted their metal shields over their heads as arrows launched through the sky, striking our defense.

“Get ready, men!” Garrett yelled over the roar of the enemy. In a synchronized manner, the men brought down their shields. George blocked me with an arm and eased backward. I couldn’t see how many there were or how outnumbered we may be; the men blocked my view on all fronts.

“Ava,” George shouted over the noise. “If you have the opportunity, run into those woods.” He pointed behind me. “I will find you.”

“I won’t—”

“Do what I say,” he growled. “I will find you. Hide; don’t trust anyone around here to help you. You must find a way to get word to my father or yours.”

“I can’t leave you again.”  It was as though he was saying goodbye. He knew that he may not make it out.

“I love you,” he said. “Never forget that.” An uncontrollable sob racked through my body. I’d just got George back, only to lose him as quickly as I had the first time. I felt as if I let go of George’s hand, he’d slip away from me.

Clashing metal sounded, ringing my eardrums. Our men shifted back at the force of the enemy. A man screeched, and I searched for Garrett, but he was nowhere to be seen. His horse disappeared, and my stomach dropped.

Someone shoved me to the ground, one of my knees hitting something harder than the grass. My knife was laid out in front of me and a man almost stepped on it. I snatched it up, quickly moving back. Two men fought, grunting while their swords collided.

Getting back to my feet, I searched through the cluster of men for George. Pure terror hit me when I couldn’t find him. I backed up, getting myself out of the chaos of men to get a better look.  A barrel-chested man suddenly rushed through the crowd like a bear. Following his direction, my whole body froze as my focus settled on George. Holding his sword in front of him, George was ready as the brute held up his own weapon, attempting slash him down. He blocked the blow, trying to push the beastly man back but gaining no ground. George circled the man, eyeing him, waiting for his next move. For the man to be so large, he was quick on his feet. He headbutted George, which sent him reeling back.

“George!” I screamed, stumbling forward. The aggressor looked at me dead in the eyes and smiled leisurely.

Returning his attention back to George, who was on the ground, shaking his head, the man stepped forward. Snatching up a handful of rocks with my free hand, I hurled them at the brute, trying to buy George time.

Glaring, he pointed a bulky finger at me. “Yer next, darling. I can’t wait to have ye.”      

Receiving his back, I strode toward the man, clenching my knife in my hand. The enemy raised his sword to take his final flow, when I lifted my own weapon. As I lurched my arm forward, my body was yanked back by my waist. Instantly I started to kick, landing blows on someone’s shins.

“Stop it, ye lettle shit,” snapped my captor, squeezing me harder.

“Let me go!” I commanded. The brute turned around to look at the commotion. He saw the knife in my hand and chortled.

“Ger job, Hanson,” he shouted at his man. “Hold her until I’m done with her friend. Her and I are going to have a little fun when I’m done.”

Hanson snickered. “Yer are in fer it now. Pierce isn’t very gentle.”

“Neither am I,” I retorted, landing a swift kick to his knees. I lifted both my legs, giving him my full weight while I repeatedly stomped on any body part I could. The clouds must have moved away because my knife glinted on the ground in front of me.

I booted him again with my heels, and wiggled, trying to pry myself out of his grasp. George yelled, and my focus went to him. Twirling his sword to the side of him, George glowered at Pierce. Both men faced each other before George swung horizontally for Pierce’s throat. Stepping back, Pierce barely escaped, which sent him into a rage. He bolted toward George, and adrenaline shot through me.

Using my elbows, I tried to land a blow on Hanson.

“Knock it off!” Hansen exclaimed, trying to keep his grip on me. “If ye keep it up, I’ll take ye next.” Glancing up, I watched as a stocky man crept up behind George, sword in hand.

“George, look out!” I screamed. George peered behind him to see the opponent raise his arm. Moving quickly, he stepped to his right and shoved his sword behind him, stabbing the foe in the stomach. The brute turned toward us again, his face flushed red with exertion.

“Shut that bitch up!” Pierce bellowed, pointing at me. I was too far away, maybe ten yards from George, and I’d never felt so helpless in my life. Hanson placed me on the ground, holding my wrists behind me, twisting and pinching, trying to force me to my knees.

The brute fought unscrupulously, kicking up dirt, throwing his hat in George’s face so he could aim to run him through. I made another effort to yank my arms away from Hanson, but he tightened his grip. I tugged hard again, my wrists burning with friction.

“You asked for it,” I gritted. Jerking back, my head collided with his face. He yelped, and his arms went slack.

“Ye bitch!” he shouted. My eyes instantly went to my knife. Leaping toward it, I scraped it off the grass and whipped around to look at my captor. The old man’s nose bled, and if it hurt as much as my head did, I knew he wasn’t ready for another one. He took a step forward, and I held up my knife.

“Come any closer and I’ll use you as a pin cushion,” I warned.

“Ye wouldn’t even know what ter do wit it,” he countered, holding his nose.

I forced a smile while squeezing my knife to keep my shaking at bay. “Try me, old man.”

The man looked over my shoulder and smiled. “Won’t need to.”  

As the last words left his mouth, I was swung around and lifted in the air to come face to face with Pierce. Scars decorated a leather face, but his olive eyes were unscathed. He held me in the air and smiled, showing yellow, crooked teeth.

“Tryin’ to hurt me men, huh?” he asked, amused. His smile faded once he saw my knife. “Give it her now.” His voice turned stern and he eyed me cautiously.

I answered him with a vigorous kick. Pierce grunted, and I took my chance, bringing my blade down. He blocked it, but I cut into his forearm.

“Son of a bitch!” Pierce hollered, his exhale hot on my face. Latching to my wrist, he pulled it back and twisted. I bit my bottom lip, trying to keep a cry from escaping from the pain. The knife started to leave my hand and guilt surged through me. I was about to fail George. The weapon fell from my hand and Pierce released my wrist.

“Why thee long face, love?” he taunted. “Ye didn’t lose your spunk, did ye?” I looked over his shoulder, searching for George. Men still fought, several laid out, unmoving, and then my eyes fell on a green shirt.

George.

He wasn’t moving, his arms sprawled to his sides, and I thought I saw a dark stain.

“What did you do?!” I hollered in his face. I covered my mouth, nausea brimming. Just moments ago, George was holding my hand, and now he was lifeless, on a field, alone.

“No need to shout now,” he whispered, his rotten breath hitting my nose. He brought my attention back to him, the man who’d just killed my best friend. I stilled, my breathing coming in ragged.

“Let go of me,” I barked.

“Oh, I’m going to. I’m going to let go with every thrust I put into ye, little one. I can’t wait to have ye all to myself.”

“I’m going to kill you,” I sneered, my voice unrecognizable. Clenching my teeth, I started to flare my body, pushing off his shoulder and wrestling out of his grip. The asshole was strong, but I would get myself out of this. I had to. I would to avenge George. Pierce would die on this field.

He chuckled. “Oh, you are already doing that. This sweet little body pressed up hard against me is killing me right now.” He compressed my body to his, a grunt escaping my lips. “Didn’t he set you aside?” he mused. “I heard he broke off your engagement, but here you are. Did you decide to be his mistress?”

I slapped him. Hard. My body reacted without warning, and his initial look was shock boiled into fury. He grabbed my face with his hand, pressing his meaty thumbs into my flesh.

“I’m going to have to teach yer prissy little ass some manners,” he hissed.

“Put her down,” Garrett’s voice demanded. Relief flooded me when I heard his voice. I didn’t need to turn around to see him. I felt hope. I narrowed my eyes at Pierce.

“Don’t ye try to headbutt me, lass. I’ll—” Cocking my arm back, I swung, my fist connecting with his cheek. He bellowed, rage filling his eyes. He mimicked my prior actions, swinging his head forward. Pain pulsated through me, and he dropped me mercilessly to my feet. Before I collapsed, he grabbed my arm.

“Fer that, I’ll keep ye with me as my personal whore for the rest of yer life,” he growled in my face before shoving me to the ground. My sight went blurry, as I was greeted by a vigorous kick to my ribs. My breath left my body in a grunt, and I rolled over once to get away from him. “Lord Cranfield,” I heard Pierce say. “At last, we meet.”

Sitting up while holding my side, my eyes met Garrett. His face was filled with indignation while he glared at Pierce. “Step the fuck away from her.”

The thug scoffed. “I don’t take orders from bastards, bastard.”

“Touch her again, Pierce, and I’ll cut off more than you signed up for,” Garrett growled. He looked like an animal; his breathing heavy and his stare pierced through him.

Pierce chuckled again. “Being a little confident, are ye?”

Garrett nodded at his brother. “Knock him out?”

“What makes ye think I only knocked him out?”

“Because you aren’t really a great swordsman.”

Pierce didn’t seem affected by the comment. Garrett looked over at me, his face softening. “Are you all right, darling?” I nodded, as I got to my feet.

“Darling?” Pierce repeated with furrowed brows. “Did I fight the wrong brother?”

“Any brother is the wrong brother,” Garrett snarled. “Not that I think you’ll tell me, but who do you work for?”

Pierce shrugged. “Get paid too much to open me mouth.” I felt Pierce’s eyes on me as I walked cautiously over to Garrett. Looking around for the first time, I noticed that his men were either dead or held prisoner. Pierce didn’t look a bit scared. “These men aren’t scared to die.”

“Oh, they won’t die,” Garrett countered. “They will be interrogated and when they don’t answer, they will be tortured. Then, if they still don’t answer, I’ll let their bones heal and torture them again.”

“These men have been tortured before,” Pierce added.

“Who hired you?”

“Think about it, lad. My men and I cost a pretty penny. Must be someone wit money.”

“A king?”

Piece shook his head. “Fer ye to figure out.”

“Maybe I’ll just string you up for everyone to see. Make a complete fool out of you.”

Pierce grunted. “And maybe I’ll kill the prince and have me fill with the lass”—he lowered his voice—“until she screams to be killed. I like her spirit; might get her pregnant, so I can continue my legacy.”

Garrett turned toward me and placed his hand on my stomach, guiding me back. “C’mon, Avie,” he said. “I need you to stay back.” His face softened slightly, and I was entranced by the man standing in front of me. “Dry your tears, sweetheart. Everything’s all right.” He brushed one of my cheeks with his thumb. “Pierce would have already taken off with you if he was dead. If you study him closely, you can see him breathing.”

I moved my body to look around him but was cut off. “Now”—he put pressure on my arm—“when I start going at this man, I need you to continue to stay out of the way.”

“I can’t.”

“You can, and you will,” Garrett asserted, pulling me up from the ground.

“Hurry up!” Pierce shouted. “I want this over.” Garrett reached for my hand and squeezed it before walking away. No fear reflected in his eyes, and that fascinated me more than anything.

I watched his back straighten and, lifting his sword, Garrett swung down.