He was about to offer her the leine off his back, so she could at least be decent for the journey home, when two more lasses suddenly emerged from the trees into the moonlight.
It was an unpleasant surprise. But at least these two were clothed.
“Unhand her!” ordered the tall blonde. She spoke with an authority he’d never heard before in a woman, striding across the field with a regal bearing, as if he should obey her command without question. He didn’t much care for her tone, particularly since she didn’t know whom she was addressing.
A dark-haired lass followed the blonde like a smaller shadow, dressed in black, slipping silently through the grass.
These must be the naked lass’s cohorts.
Great, he thought as his nose began to throb. Now what?
“I’d advise you do as she bids, before ’tis too late,” the shadowy lass chimed in. “We don’t want to hurt you.”
The scoff burst out of him involuntarily. “Hurt…me?” His statement would have been more effective had blood not been dripping from his nose.
“Put me down,” the naked lass muttered. “You have no idea who you’re dealing with.”
That amused him even more. He might not know their names. But it was clear he was dealing with three lasses. Lasses. Aye, he’d been caught off guard with that punch to his nose. But it wouldn’t happen again.
Now, however, there was no way he was going to let them just go on their merry way. He wasn’t about to let them walk away, thinking they’d bested him.
He was new here. He had yet to make a name for himself. A man’s reputation was critical. If they started spreading gossip about how the three of them—three lasses—had subdued the new Laird of Creagor, he’d never live it down.
Perhaps he could call them on their empty threats.
“Fine,” he said. “Then tell me, lassie, who exactly am I dealin’ with?”
The blonde straightened with pride. To his surprise, she was almost as tall as his man Colban.
“I’m Hallidis Cameliard. This is my cousin Feiyan la Nuit. And Jenefer du Lac is the one you’ve got in a death grip. We’re the Warrior Daughters of Rivenloch.”
He resisted a snicker. He’d heard his father speak of Rivenloch. It was the property adjoining Creagor. But Warrior Daughters? They had to be jesting.
“Och aye,” he drawled, “and I’m the Lion o’ Scotland.”
“I knew he wouldn’t believe us,” dark-haired Feiyan said, shaking her head.
Hallidis held up her hands in peace. “We mean you no harm. But you must put our cousin down.”
“Or what?”
Jenefer strained in his grip and bit out, “Or they’ll run you through before you can say ‘Lucifer’s ballocks’.”
“Don’t be ridiculous, Jen,” Hallidis scolded, then turned to him. “We’ll do no such thing.”
Jenefer stiffened in outrage. “What do you mean?”
“I told you before,” Hallidis explained. “We’re on a mission of diplomacy.”
Morgan’s brows popped up. Diplomacy? They had a strange way of showing it.
“Thor’s rod, Hallie! Does he look diplomatic to you?” Jenefer demanded.
“Besides,” Hallidis added, “we’re unarmed.”
“What!” Jenefer exploded. “You’re unarmed? You mean to say you followed me here and brought no weapons? Then why did you bother coming at all?”
Morgan was beginning to wonder if he should drop the lass to the ground and let the three work out their differences on their own when he spied a dark figure out of the corner of his eye. Someone else was stealing through the shadows behind the lasses.
For an instant, he feared he might be outnumbered.
Then moonlight glinted off the intruder’s golden hair.
Colban.
He’d probably heard the noise and come down to lend aid.
Meanwhile, the Warrior Daughters bickered on, unaware they were being stalked.
“We had to come, Jen,” Hallidis said pointedly, “because you broke the pact.”
“I didn’t break it. I followed the plan. I just…acted independently.”
“You ran off. We were supposed to do this together.”
Morgan could hardly keep up. What were they supposed to do together?
The one called Feiyan tried to intervene. “Honestly, sir,” she said politely, “’twould be best if you let our cousin go now.”
Colban was sneaking up behind the dark-haired lass. Morgan could see him, but he gave no indication.
“If I let her go,” he said, “what assurances do I have she won’t attack me again?”
“She’ll give you her word,” Feiyan said. “Isn’t that right, Jen?”
“The devil I will!” Jenefer declared, struggling anew. “The bastard came at me with a claymore!”
“Ye see?” Morgan said as he saw Colban inch closer.
“I do,” Feiyan said, lowering her brows and giving him a curious look of regret. “But don’t say I didn’t give you fair warning.”
Just as Colban loomed over the lass, about to spring, Feiyan suddenly bent forward and spun round. She swung her leg in a powerful arc, clipping Colban’s chiseled jaw with surprising accuracy and force.
So unexpected was the violent outburst that Morgan almost dropped Jenefer.
“Feiyan, nay!” Hallidis shouted.
But demure Feiyan paid no heed. No sooner did Colban recoil from the blow than the lass dropped to the ground and swept both legs forward toward Morgan, catching the back of his calves and bowling him over like a wooden pin.
Chivalry was ingrained in Morgan, even in circumstances like these. As he fell, he took care not to crush the naked lass in his arms. But he needn’t have worried. As soon as he hit the sod, Jenefer sprang loose from his grip with a cry of victory.
Now he definitely couldn’t let them escape. Three lasses besting Morgan was bad enough. But three lasses making fools of Morgan and his right hand man…
That was insufferable.
With a roar, he righted himself and lunged toward Feiyan. But she was lightning fast. She dodged out of the way. Twice.
“Feiyan!” Hallidis barked again.
Colban gave his head a shake to restore his senses and then brought his arms together, attempting to grab the elusive Feiyan. She seemed to disappear into the darkness. Colban’s arms crossed, empty.
Before Morgan could comprehend what had happened, Feiyan stepped in and elbowed him in the stomach. His padded cotun absorbed most of the blow. But he was knocked enough off-balance that she managed to get in a jab with the heel of her hand, this one to the point of his chin.
Tiny lights burst in his vision like stars streaking across the heavens, fading into the black sky. He had one brief instant to wonder what the hell was happening.
Then, several yards away, he spied Jenefer swooping up his claymore. In the next moment, she came barreling toward him with the gleaming sword held aloft, like a naked avenging angel.
“Jen!” the other two lasses screamed.
But Jenefer wasn’t listening. She had fire in her eyes and vengeance in her heart. She clearly meant to slay him.
In a tiny, dark corner of his soul, he almost wished she would.
Then that bitter thought vanished, and his survival instincts kicked in.
Chapter 9
Jenefer didn’t intend to kill the Highlander. Of course she didn’t.
She might be hotheaded. Short-tempered. Impulsive. Likely to act first and explain later.
But she was no murderer.
She only meant to frighten the brute, the way he’d frightened her.
The problem was her cousins didn’t believe that. They didn’t trust her. They thought she intended to cut down an unarmed man.
Their doubt troubled and distracted her. So much so that when she charged forward, wielding his claymore, she didn’t notice the Highlander’s fair-haired clansman bolting to intercept her.
Feiyan noticed. She reached
into her bodice and pulled out one of her wicked steel stars. With a flick of her wrist, she fired it at the man.
Time seemed to slow as the star whirred through the air, catching the light of the full moon on its sharp points. Jen watched in breathless horror as it sailed straight for the man’s heart.
With an audible thunk, it lodged in its target.
Time stopped then. The wind silenced. The stars froze. The moon hung motionless. Fate balanced on a dagger’s edge. For a long moment, there was no sound. No movement.
Then the man looked down, puzzled.
The deadly star protruded from his chest. But it hadn’t pierced his cotun. It was stuck fast in the padding.
The gears of time slowly ground to life again.
With cautious fingers and a grimace of fury, the man plucked the star out and dropped it on the frozen ground.
That moment of distraction, however, proved to be Jenefer’s downfall. She hesitated just long enough to allow the Highlander to lunge forward and seize her wrist. He gave her arm a hard shake, making her drop the claymore. Then he caught her around the waist, heaving her up in one powerful arm while she spat oaths at him and struggled for freedom.
In turn, Feiyan, distracted by Jenefer’s disarming, was late to notice the advance of the second man. He was large, but he was fast. Before Feiyan could dance away, he upended her, slinging the wee lass over one massive shoulder like a bag of barley.
“Nay!” Jenefer screamed, enraged that they’d both been so easily bested.
Now it was up to Hallie.
Surely she’d pick up his sword. It was her weapon of choice. Though Jenefer hated to admit it, Hallie’s skill with a blade rivaled her own. All she had to do was sweep it up from the ground and…
“Feiyan!” Hallie chided. “We were supposed to be unarmed!”
Jenefer choked on astonishment. Why was Hallie scolding Feiyan? Why wasn’t she taking action? Wasn’t she going to defend them? Wasn’t she going to snatch up the claymore and make a stand against the Highlanders? Would she actually betray her own cousins?
Feiyan’s reply was muffled by the padding of the man’s cotun. “Fie, Hallie, you know I never go anywhere without a weapon.”
Hallie let out a disappointed sigh. But she couldn’t possibly have been as disappointed as Jenefer felt.
Hallie addressed the men in a taut voice. “Let’s be civil about this,” she said. “I want no trouble. These two are under my command. I’ll see they do you no further harm if you free them.”
Jenefer, who had plenty of further harm in mind, bit back a retort. How dared Hallie make promises on her behalf—promises she had no intention of keeping?
Apparently, the men didn’t believe Hallie or trust Jenefer either.
“Free them?” the one holding Feiyan barked.
“’Tis too late for that,” the Highlander growled.
“I see.” Hallie let out a long sigh. “Then you’ll have to take me captive as well.”
Feiyan gasped.
“Nay!” Jenefer protested. “You can’t do that, Hallie! This is my battle! I won’t let you sacrifice yourself!”
“Can’t you see you’ve given me no choice?” Hallie muttered.
Jenefer twisted in the Highlander’s grasp until she could see her cousin. “Go, Hallie! Run! Go to Rivenloch and bring back…” She stopped herself. It might be unwise to alert the Highlander to the fact they had a whole army at their command.
“I warned you, Jen,” Hallie said. “I told you ’twas not a battle.”
Jenefer gave her a black look. What the devil was Hallie thinking? Was she mad? She could have returned to Rivenloch for reinforcements, then come back and launched a proper attack on the castle.
With all three of them held captive, they were helpless to do anything until…until their parents returned.
The last thing Jenefer wanted was for her parents to find out she’d challenged the Highlander and lost. They might think twice about giving her command of Creagor.
Loki’s bones! She never should have let go of the claymore. She never should have trusted Hallie to take up her cause. Hallie was a stubborn wench. And she always thought she was right.
“You know I’m right,” Hallie stated, proving her point. “But never fear, cousin. I won’t abandon you.”
Hallie and her self-sacrificing, self-righteous ways always made Jenefer feel like a child.
She swore under her breath. Now, if she managed to escape, Hallie would brand her a deserter.
Damn her cousin. Hallie had effectively left them all at the Highlanders’ mercy.
She shuddered once, hoping it was from cold and not fear. But these were challenges she’d never faced before.
She’d never encountered men as massive as these. She’d never seen agile Feiyan so swiftly dispatched by an opponent. And she’d never felt as defenseless as she did now, dangling from the Highlander’s powerful arm like a sacrificial lamb.
Jenefer hated to confess it, but for the first time in her life, she felt a frisson of dread. Who knew what grisly punishments these barbarians practiced on their enemies? She’d heard tales about the brutes who dwelt in the Highlands…
They sharpened their teeth on grinding stones.
They marked their servants with burning brands.
They butchered cows by tearing them limb from limb.
And by the loud wailing that began again from the upstairs window, they hardened their offspring by ignoring their cries.
Chapter 10
Morgan scowled. Why were the nurses letting his bairn cry? If they didn’t calm the lad soon, the whole household would wake. And if that happened, his clan would witness their laird wrestling with three lasses in the moonlight, one of them as naked as a newborn.
The idea was horrifying.
Just as horrifying was the thought of taking them captive. What was he to do with three bloodthirsty lasses? He’d barely moved into the castle. Did the keep even have a place to hold prisoners?
To be honest, he didn’t want to bring them inside the gates, where they could endanger his clan. Nor did he want to see what manner of sword-wielding, axe-brandishing, vengeance-seeking Rivenloch warriors would march to Creagor on the morrow to reclaim their missing daughters.
This was no way to meet his new neighbors.
Yet what other choice did he have? He dared not let the murderous women go. Not after what they’d attempted.
For one terrible moment, he’d feared Colban had been mortally wounded. He had no idea what gruesome weapon that dark-haired witch had thrown. But he was grateful she was only a wee lass with limited strength in her arm.
Fortunately, Colban was clever enough not to take any chances with the slippery whelp. God only knew what other armaments were hidden on her person. Righting the wench again, Colban clamped her against his chest and set a dagger at her throat.
As for the fiery temptress still thrashing about in Morgan’s grip, he had just about lost patience with her. The combination of her vulnerable nudity and violent savagery were creating confusion and conflict—in his mind and in his body. And he hated to be confused.
The blonde, Hallidis, might be overbearing. But at least she was reasonable. She didn’t seem to possess her cousins’ lust for blood. And she had the good sense to know when she was beaten.
Her voice was cool, somber with resignation, and she clasped her hands humbly before her as if she wore shackles. “What do you mean to do with us?”
What indeed?
Morgan was tired. He was aching. His body was bruised and battered. His soul was weary and dispirited. All he wanted to do was return to his chamber and go to sleep.
At that instant, the bairn let out a piercing scream, as if to say there would be no sleep for Morgan this night.
He let out a long-suffering sigh.
Then an insidious idea entered his mind.
Maybe he did know where to stash the wayward lasses.
All he needed was to ensure they wouldn
’t escape. They’d be safe enough. Duly punished, but unhurt.
On the morrow, when everyone was thinking more rationally, Morgan could greet the Rivenloch soldiers—who’d surely come for the lasses—with a clear conscience and the diplomacy to settle things peaceably.
First, however, he had to take a few precautions.
“Colban,” he said, “search her for weapons.”
“Nay!” Hallidis said sharply, vexing Morgan. But before he could rebuke the lass, she volunteered, “Please. Allow me.”
Morgan glanced at Colban. By his worried expression, Colban likewise found the task of searching a woman at the point of a dagger distasteful. No matter that the woman had meant to slay him.
Then Morgan narrowed his eyes at the blonde, gauging her intent. She seemed sincere. He blew out a long breath. Hoping to God he wasn’t being gulled by her forthright gaze, he gave her a slight nod.
“Feiyan,” she bade the dark-haired lass. “I command you to surrender your arms.” Then, as if she suspected her cousin’s devious nature, she added, “All of them.”
Feiyan’s lips formed a disappointed pout. “Fine.”
Colban cautiously removed the dagger from her throat and loosened his grip on her. He stepped backed, keeping his weapon at the ready.
While Morgan watched, she reached into her bodice with her finger and thumb, withdrawing another steel star, which she released onto the sod. Then she crossed her arms and drew two narrow-bladed knives from the waist of her surcoat. With a sharp flick of her wrists, she flipped the blades, driving them point-first into the ground.
From hidden pockets in her skirt, she pulled two small cylinders of wood. They were attached to the ends of the girdle of silver links circling her hips. Releasing one cylinder, she whipped the chain through the air in a whistling spiral. The force was lethal enough to knock a man cold. Instead, she caught the cylinder easily in her other hand and dropped the weapon harmlessly onto the grass.
It was the most curious assortment of arms he’d ever seen.
With a stubborn jut of her chin, Feiyan crossed her arms over her chest.
Bride of Fire Page 4
