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Ben drew himself back and his eyes slightly glowed. “Are you alright?”
I nodded. “I-I think so. You?”
He pursed his lips as he looked to the other carriage. “Fine, but we had better check on our opponents. You stay here.”
For once I had no desire to disobey. Ben draped the blanket over my wet head and hopped down. He carefully trudged over to the other vehicle just as the driver made his appearance out of the brush. A nasty cut graced his forehead which he clutched in one hand.
“Is anyone hurt?” Ben called to him above the pounding of the rain.
“I’m not sure,” the driver replied. The four horses gave a frightened whinny, showing that they were unhurt but not unfazed.
Ben reached the door and opened it. He leaned inside and inspected the contents. “Hello!”
A soft deep groan was his only reply. Ben eased himself over the carriage foot step and into the darkness. My heart pounded in my chest and I stretched my neck to try to catch a glimpse of him. A head appeared, but it didn’t belong to Ben. Instead, it was a man of about sixty with shocking white hair and a dark tan. He wore a dark cloak about his person, but I caught sight of a stylish vest and undershirt. The man’s body hung limp over the open doorway, but I could see he was breathing.
Ben popped up beside him. “Easy there. Take it slow. You there! Driver!”
The dazed driver had only made it around the horses, but he stumbled over to the door at the call. Together Ben and he managed to get the man out and set him down in the mud beside the carriage wheels. Ben ducked back down and another new head popped up.
My blood ran cold when I recognized the disheveled face of Commander Edouard. His normally trim attire was disheveled and blood matted his hair. The man’s face was pale and his eyes were unfocused. The driver helped Ben heave him out and then Ben himself climbed out of the hole.
Ben stooped beside the carriage pair and looked them over. The driver hovered over Ben’s shoulders with a pale look on his face. “Will they be alright?”
Ben had a dire look on his face. “I think so, but keeping them out in this rain won’t do them any good. Where were you headed?”
“Scima, to the Feormere Hotel,” the driver replied.
Ben shook his head. “That’s too far. We had best take them to Rookwood. It’s much closer.”
“But how shall we take them anywhere, sir?” the driver wondered as he nodded at the overturned carriage. “We can’t right this alone.”
“We’ll put them in my carriage and the rest of us will follow on the horses,” Ben suggested as he stood. “My horse knows the way better than anyone and will get them to Rookwood safe and sound.”
The driver looked unconvinced, but he didn’t have much of a choice. He was alone in this matter, his travel mates being incapacitated, and the rain was just coming down harder. Understanding the situation, I clambered down and hurried over to help unhitch the horses. Ferox pulled his weight by pulling the carriage closer so Ben could lift the men into the carriage. I couldn’t help but notice that the driver kept one sharp eye trained on Ben as he performed the task.
Soon our passengers were securely stowed in our carriage and Ben stepped up to Ferox’s side. He stroked the side of the horse’s neck and met his gaze. “You’ll have to be extra careful with this load, old friend. Do you understand?”
Ferox bobbed his head before he eased himself away and faced down the road. The horse trotted gingerly through the mud and the carriage rolled after him. Ben turned his attention to me as I tried to hop onto the back of one of the high steeds. I might have succeeded if the hair hadn’t been slicked by the rain.
“Let me,” Ben offered as he twined his hands together.
I gladly accepted his offer of a foothold and with his help I managed to climb aboard. The ground was far off and I was sorely aware of the lack of saddle. I clutched the reins and prayed the horse would be as gentle with me as Ferox had been on that fateful night to help Ben face off against the assassin.
Ben and the driver had no trouble mounting their steads and Ben made sure to stay beside me as we followed Ferox down the messy road. Not a soul could be found save ours as we trudged through the deepening muck. I was never so glad as when I spotted the turnoff to Rookwood. That road being less traveled, there was also less earth to stir up and the going was easier.
The fog that had greeted us on our initial arrival still lingered in the trees and I kept an eye on the innocent-looking mist. Rookwood Manor soon loomed large ahead of us, but a few illuminated windows on the ground floor offered a warm welcome. Ferox rolled up to the door and the entrance was flung open.
Aunt Dreda stood in the doorway, but she wasn’t the short, wizened old woman who had earlier met us. This was an angry Aunt Dreda.
CHAPTERTWENTY
“Where in theall the worlds have you been?” she snapped as she picked up the bottom hem of her dress and marched out onto the muddy path in front of her home. “I’ve been worried sick about the storm and you being-” She stopped a few feet from the carriage and frowned at the contents. “What in the world are you doing in there?” She noticed our horses and her eyebrows crashed down. “What is going on here, Benjamin?”
Ben slid down from his horse and handed the reins to the driver who had also dismounted. “I’ll explain after we have our guests tucked into warm beds and dry stalls.”
Ben helped me off my steed before the driver and he took up the heavy burden of carrying the men indoors. The pair were none the more conscious until we dragged them, at Aunt Dreda’s direction, into the parlor and to two chairs she and I set in front of the large fire that crackled in the hearth.
Commander Edouard was, unfortunately, the first to regain consciousness. He stirred in his high-backed chair and his eyes fluttered open. The commander looked about the room in bewilderment before his gaze settled on Ben’s face. He tried to sit up as his face took on an expression of suspicion.
