Page 111 of Desire's Ransom
Chapter 29
Beside Temair, Bran gave a sudden yelp of pain and limped onto his side. Temair gaped in horror at the arrow protruding from the hound’s haunch. But before she could go to him, Ryland dove toward her, shielding her with his body and rolling on the ground with her in his arms.
He looked up at the tower. She followed his gaze.
Her heart gave a hitch.
Cormac, vexed and red-faced, stood glaring down at her, his beard quivering.
To her amazement, after being at his mercy for so long and suffering at his hands, his countenance didn’t inspire fear in her, only hate. And if he’d remained there any longer, she would have burned a hole in him with her gaze.
Friar Brian was already tending to Bran. The poor hound was whimpering while Flann sniffed at him. “He’ll be fine. ’Tis just a shallow wound.”
She nodded in relief.
Ryland’s men needed no orders. Once they witnessed his hostile act, they sprang into action. They charged the door of the keep, battering it with their shoulders until, by brute force, they broke the bolt and the door swung open.
Ryland murmured, “Stay here.”
Then he leaped up, drew his blade, and headed into the keep.
“Not on your life,” she muttered to herself, jumping to her feet.
The fall had cracked her bow, so she cast it aside. But clever old Sorcha had brought Temair’sbata, and she pressed it into her hands with a grim look.
“Ye make him pay, lass. He owes ye for your sister.”
With a determined nod, Temair whipped thebatathrough the air with a violent sweep of her arm and stormed through the door.
For a moment when she entered the great hall, she was overwhelmed by memories. There were more trinkets around the room than she recalled and more tapestries on the wall, but the same oppressive stink of stale ale and peat smoke lingered in the air.
The Knights of de Ware stood in the center of the hall, their weapons out. But they faced no adversaries. A half-dozen maidservants clung together in a tearful knot. Three kitchen lads sat with their hands between their knees and their eyes wide with awe. Five men in leather armor had already tossed their weapons to the ground and had their hands up in surrender.
Ryland spotted her. “Temair, I asked you to wait outside.”
She would have told him exactly what she thought of his orders, but just then, an oblivious young lady came trotting down the stairs. “I’m comin’.”
She froze with a gasp when she saw all the soldiers in the great hall. “Who are ye?”
Temair narrowed her gaze at the dark-haired lass. She was dressed in a fine whiteléineand abratembroidered in blue and saffron that Temair recognized as Aillenn’s. The silver and pearl pendant around her neck had once belonged to Temair’s mother.
“Who areye?”Temair demanded, though she already knew what the lass would say.
The lass pulled herself up to her full height, which was a head shorter than Temair. “I’ll have ye know I’m the chieftain’s daughter, Tem—”
Before she could finish, Temair charged toward her,bataraised.
The lass gave a terrified shriek and tried to flee upstairs.
But Temair hooked her ankles with herbata, tripping her. The lass fell hard at the bottom of the steps. Temair hauled her upright by the back of herbratand planted the lass on her feet before her.
The lass glowered at her as she licked her bloodied lip. “Ye’ll be sorry for this,” she threatened. “Cormac will—”
Temair reached out and snagged her mother’s pendant. She gave it a hard jerk, and the chain broke.
“How dare ye!” the lass shouted. Her eyes closed to angry green slits.
Temair dropped the pendant down the front of her leather armor.
