Page 51 of Bound By Deception

If only there was a way she could spy on the High King and his druidic council. As Mirren had informed her, they metregularly, every four or five days. But every time he called his druids to him, the High King placed guards at the entrance to the hall, forbidding everyone—even servants—entry.

It was impossible to listen in on them.

Mirren nodded before licking her lips nervously. Her handmaid was still worryingly pale, and her face was blotchy this morning—a sign she’d spent most of the night weeping. Bree didn’t want to put her through this, yet maybe a distraction would help.

“Target the nose, eyes, throat, just below the breastbone, groin … and knees,” she continued. “Don’t bother going for anywhere else, especially not with a trained warrior.”

Mirren winced. “You make it sound so easy.”

“Don’t be afraid to let them come close,” Bree instructed. “It helps if they think you’re weak … but that’s when you strike.”

Her handmaid’s features tightened at these words, something dark moving in the depths of her eyes.

“Of course, preventing a situation is always better than having to fight.” Bree paused then, her brow furrowing. “But when you’re cornered and forced to defend yourself, there are four basic moves that could save you.”

Mirren swallowed. “Show me then.”

Bree nodded. “Right … let’s start with this one.” She mimicked driving the heel of her hand into Mirren’s nose. “A broken nose really hurts … and it makes the eyes water, which should give you enough time to get away.” Bree repeated the move. “See how I step in close, how I put the weight of my body behind it?”

“Aye.”

“Well, it’s your turn now. I’m going to grab you … and you’re going to hit me in the nose with the back of your hand.”

“But won’t I hurt you?”

Bree snorted. “Let me worry about that.”

A moment later, she leaped at Mirren.

The lass shrieked and lashed out, her palm flashing upward. Bree jerked her head back just in time, to avoid a crushed nose.

“Aye, that’s it.” Bree’s mouth quirked. “You’re a quick study.”

Mirren’s eyes glinted, high spots of color appearing on her pale cheeks. “If I imagine you’re one of them … it’s easier.” There was a hard edge to her voice that Bree hadn’t heard before. The sweet, smiling woman who’d laughed with her as they sat mending clothes together was gone.

Bree’s breathing grew shallow then. Those bastard enforcers had stolen more than Mirren’s innocence; they’d broken something inside her. She was brittle now, a vessel for rage and revenge to fill.

Their gazes met and held before Bree cleared her throat. “Right, next, I’m going to teach you the eye gouge.”

Mirren nodded. “Good.”

Bree took her handmaid through the first four essential self-defense moves. After showing her how to break a man’s nose, and how to drive her fingers into his eyes, she demonstrated how to use her knees and elbows as weapons as well, aiming for the sensitive spots she’d highlighted earlier.

And Mirren’s attention never wavered.

Bree was walking across the yard before the broch, returning from accompanying Mirren to the bakehouse, when shouting drew her attention.

Swiveling on her heel, she spied a horse and rider thundering through the gates.

Bree’s gaze slid over the newcomer, taking in the dried blood that slicked his side and the sweat coating his ashen face. He pulled up his winded mount a few yards from Bree and attempted to dismount. However, the man was so weak that he collapsed onto the hard-packed dirt and lay there, panting.

Bree closed the distance between them and knelt, helping the man onto his back. It was hard not to wrinkle her nose at the reek of him; the sweet smell of decay warned her that the wounds he carried now festered.

“What happened to you?” she asked.

“The High King,” the man rasped, ignoring her question. “I … must … speak to him.”

“Fia!” Bree glanced up to see her husband striding across the yard toward her. His scowl warned her to move back from the injured man, but she held her ground. “What are you doing out here?”

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