Red Rider RIsing: Book 2 of the Red Rider Saga by D.A. Randall (ebook e reader .txt) 📕

attacks?”

“All that the King will allow, which isn’t much, I’m afraid. As far as France is concerned, we’re on our own.”

Father Vestille wrinkled his brow. “So the King plans to let La Rue Sauvage fend for itself?

He refuses to lift a finger to help us?”

“Your words, not mine, Father,” Duke Laurent replied.

Father Vestille stepped toward him,

looking annoyed, as Papa moved between them. I fidgeted, eager to avoid their argument. “I want to see Crimson again,” I told Francois.

“Sure thing,” Francois boomed. “Right this way. We’ll let these gentlemen continue their civil conversation on their own.” He cast an amused 36

glance over his shoulder, and I saw Papa sour at him as we trudged to the rear of the stable.

Crimson stood by the gate and lifted his head as we returned, still focused on me. I limped back to the feed bag to give him some more oats.

“It’s all right, Crimson. Just Papa talking with Duke Laurent and Father Vestille. Nothing to be afraid of.”

I watched the oats disappear from my hand as he nibbled. My sides still ached, but I felt numb inside. Numb and helpless, with no one to protect me from Jacque Denue and his friends.

Or from anything else.

“Francois? How often do you get scared?”

“I dunno. Now and then. Everybody gets scared sometimes.”

I stroked Crimson’s flank. “I feel like I’m scared all the time.”

He didn’t answer right away. “What’re you scared of?”

“That the wolf might come back.”

He shuffled his feet in the grass. “Hard to come back if he’s dead.”

I pictured its horrible image again. Its monstrous head. Its jagged ears. Its fanged smile.

“I heard there were other attacks. Didn’t the wolf kill some other people, too?”

Francois paced to one side, then back toward me. “That was before. Figure it was that same wolf. Sure, there have been other attacks, by wolves or some other animals. But you don’t need to worry about that big, bad wolf anymore. He’s gone forever.”

37

“Were you scared when you killed him?”

“‘Course I was. But sometimes there are things more important than being scared. Things you’ve got to stand up and fight for.”

“Like trying to save Grand’Mere?”

“Yeah. And looking after you. I mean, if I hadn’t gone in after that wolf – well, he would’ve gotten you, too. Can’t let being scared stop you from doing what’s right. If everybody stays scared, who’s gonna protect us?”

I knew he was right. But the wolf was monstrous. And I was just a girl that older boys beat on. “Francois. Can you teach me to fight?”

His eyes bulged. “Uhhh, now why would you want to learn that, Helena?”

I cocked my head at him. “You know why.

So I can beat up Jacque Denue instead of him beating on me.”

He frowned. “I’m not sure that’s the answer to your problem, Helena. Certainly not the answer your father would give you.”

“That’s why I’m asking you. You know how to stand up and fight. You knew how to kill that wolf.”

He scratched his beard. “Yeah, well. Funny thing, that whole business. I didn’t strike it that hard, you know? I just got lucky. That big old wolf must have been tired or sick or something, because I barely grazed it. It died a few seconds after I struck it.”

I blinked. “I thought you chopped its head off.”

38

“That was after he died. Didn’t want to take any chances with a wolf that big. But – well, anyway. Fighting’s not the answer. Not for a young girl like you.”

“So I just have to get beat up?”

He pressed his lips tight, then sighed heavily at the ground. He crouched beside me, his voice dropping to a low whisper. “All right, come here. Look. The thing about any fight is, not so much getting in your licks at the other guy, as making sure he doesn’t get anything on you.”

I squinted. “Huh?”

“I mean, don’t tire yourself out. If he swings at you with his right, you step aside and let him miss. When he swings again, you step back or to the side again. Sooner or later, he’ll tire himself out trying to hit you.”

“And then you flatten him,” I said, excited.

He half-smiled. “Well, yeah.