The Silver Sword by Angela Elwell Hunt

daughter,” Ernan answered, drawing himself up to his full height, “will serve no man but her husband. She will remain with me until she is married.”
    Lord Laco smiled benignly, as if dealing with an ignorant and temperamental child. “Better a chambermaid in a castle than wife to a peasant, my friend. I believe you are underestimating the honor I would like to bestow upon you. Half the fathers in Prague would surrender their daughters to me in an instant—”
    â€œThen I’ll be wanting you to count me among the half who would resist you,” Ernan interrupted, frowning with cold fury. “Me daughter will remain with me.”
    Lord Laco shrugged slightly, then turned to the cardinal, who had watched the entire episode with an impatient frown upon his face. “Your Eminence,” Laco said, his smile oddly out of place on a countenance like his, “we seem to have reached an impasse. Since this is the Lord’s holy day, I submit this situation for you to resolve.”
    â€œI see here,” D’Ailly replied in a bored tone, his fat fingers curving under his chin, “a stubborn and rebellious father who would defy not only God, but his earthly masters as well. In this hour he has stolen your lordship’s time, your energy, and your attention. He has also openly defied your authority …” the cardinal’s eyes flitted toward the open windows where residents were watching with undisguised curiosity, “before a large section of the populace.”
    Laco drew his lips in thoughtfully. “Have you a verdict, then?”
    â€œYes.”
    For the first time, Anika felt the cardinal’s eyes fall upon her, and at the touch of his gaze she felt an instinctive stab of fear.
    â€œWe know this girl’s father associates with Jan Hus. You would be committing an act of mercy to take her from his polluting influence. In your house, she would be safeguarded by the true Church.”
    Icy fear twisted around her heart as the cardinal’s dark eyes smiled at her.
    â€œMy verdict is that you have every right, even a duty, to take the girl.”
    â€œNo,” Anika whispered in a small, frightened voice. Surely this was a dream, it could not be happening—
    â€œSo be it.” Lord Laco turned toward a pair of knights who rode behind his carriage. “Take the girl from her father, and bring her to the castle. If you encounter resistance …” at this he looked directly at Anika’s father, “use your swords.”
    â€œYou can’t do this!” Anika heard her father roar.
    Laco eased himself back into the carriage, then leaned across his son and gave Anika a dry, one-sided smile through the window. “If you find the cardinal’s judgment unfair, call a magistrate.”
    Laughing, he fell back into his seat as the carriage lurched away.

Four

    L aco’s words seemed to come to Petrov through strangely thickened air.
    Use your swords.
    His sword! It hung by his belt as always, a symbol of his knighthood and his skills in warfare, but how many years had passed since he unsheathed it for anything but training or an empty bluff?
    The sound of dear Anika’s cry propelled him forward; his hand reached for the instrument that years ago had completed him, made him whole. The hilt felt cold and foreign in his hand, and when had the blade become so heavy?
    There was no time to wonder. The two knights riding behind the carriage had spurred their stallions at their master’s command; the closest was already closing in upon Anika, his arm extended to sweep her up across his saddle.
    â€œYou shall not do this!” Petrov’s blade sliced through the air, striking the knight squarely on the forearm, right at the point where the heavy leather gauntlet joined the metal vambrace that protected the arm. The blow did little more than startle the knight, but it gave Anika time to whirl away.
    â€œRun, Ernan, take