Page 109 of Desire's Ransom
One thing was certain. If they survived this and managed to hold on to the tower house after Temair’s reckless promise, Ryland would take charge of theclann’sarmy. Temair might excel at one-on-one combat and knocking rivals into the water. But she knew nothing about siege warfare. It was obvious she didn’t have the stomach for it.
As they drew near the tower, everyone dismounted. Temair joined the ranks of the other archers. Of course, as soon as she was out of hearing, his men began attacking him with furious whispers.
“Are you mad, m’lord?” Warin hissed. “How can we fight them if we can’t kill them?”
Laurence agreed. “It can’t be done. We might as well go in unarmed.”
His brother Adam clucked his tongue. “Not even wed, and she’s already got your ballocks in a vise.”
“Enough!” Ryland tensed his jaw, giving his brother a withering glower. “He has fewer men than we do, and they’ll be expecting a negotiation, not a battle. If all goes well, it may not even come to blows.”
Adam curled his lip. “Where’s the fun in that?”
Ryland gave him a chiding shove.
“Listen,” he said to his men, eyeing them in turn. “Temair is right. A good knight knows his own strength. A good knight can control that strength. You are the best knights I know. These people are not her vassals. They’re her family. They will bemyfamily. I’m trusting you to keep them safe.”
“What?” Cormac exploded. His shout bounced around the great hall, making the messenger flinch in fear. “That’s not possible!”
Of course, it was completely possible. He hadn’t seen his wayward daughter in—what was it—five, six, seven years? But it was unthinkable that she could be alive. He’d been so certain she’d been killed by the elements, ravaged by outlaws, or eaten by wolves.
“Ye’re sure?” He seized the quivering youth by the front of hisbrat. “Ye’re not even old enough to have known her.”
The lad’s throat bobbed up and down. Finally he replied, “The…the otherclannfolk…they said ’twas her. They knew her by her…her wolfhounds…and…and her gray eyes.”
Cormac felt fury rising in him, felt it burning its way up his throat, his ears, his eyes. With a fierce growl, he shook the youth like a rat and tossed him away. The lad squeaked like a rat too as he hit the floor, then scrambled away as if the devil were after him.
Cormac pulled at his beard as he paced the hall, ignoring the maidservants cowering in the corners. This was unfortunate news.
That Temair was still alive was bad enough.
That she’d found her way here was worse.
That she was in the company of the Knights of de Ware was a disaster.
The wily wench knew things about him, things that would rob him of his honor price and maybe even his life.
Now the entireclannwould know that the lass he was keeping in the tower was not his real daughter.
But how much else had the vixen revealed? What had she told de Ware? And what would the swaggering knight pass on to the king?
He hawked up the bitter taste of dread, rolled the spittle around in his mouth, and spat into the fire as he passed. It sizzled like a brand.
How could he salvage the situation?
Temair had to die.
She was too dangerous to leave alive.
Once she was dead, his secret would be safe. And he could figure out the rest later.
“Goffraid!” he barked to his best bowman, posted at the door of the hall.
“Aye, m’lord?” The man snapped to attention.
“Grab your quiver and follow me.”
They mounted the steps to the top of the tower, where he could spy upon the visitors. Though he blamed it on the difficult five-floor climb, what Cormac saw when he peered down from the tower left him struggling for breath.
