Page 95 of Desire's Ransom
“Nay!” she yelled. “We’ll be back in a bit.”
Ryland watched them set off through the forest. Temair had taken herbata. He’d overheard what Lady Mor had said. English soldiers had been spotted on the road.
His men were here.
He couldn’t risk an encounter between the knights of de Ware and the woodkerns. He’d never forgive himself if violence broke out and anyone on either side was injured.
But he’d sworn he wouldn’t leave the camp without her permission.
He eyed Bran and Flann. Temair had asked him to look after them. If they happened to get loose…
A moment later, the dogs were leading Ryland through the woods, stealthily following the scent of their mistress. He strained to keep up with the hounds, clambering over mossy rocks, slogging through the leaves, snapping off branches in his haste.
Could he arrive in time to defuse the situation?
The woodkerns would probably assume an army of English knights meant an invasion by the enemy. They would do everything they could to defend their precious land.
And while his knights would never commit the first act of aggression, they wouldn’t hesitate to reply with full force if they were threatened.
Ryland couldn’t help but dread that he’d made a grievous error in inviting his company here. The last thing he wanted was to be responsible for starting a war.
His heart was pounding and his chest heaving with exertion when he crossed the log bridge at last. As he entered the daisy-studded clearing where his knights had first encountered the woodkerns, he finally glimpsed Temair through the trees, very near to the road. She’d donned her hood and pulled up her scarf to hide her face.
Before he could call out to her, he saw her leap out onto the road.
From the road, he heard his brother Adam cry, “Outlaw!”
Then he heard the unsheathing of three dozen swords.
Ryland’s heart knifed sideways.
“Nay!” he bellowed back. But no one answered.
Bran and Flann, sensing their mistress was in danger, broke away and tore across the clearing like demons toward her.
“Nay!” Ryland cried again, bolting after them in desperation.
It was too late. The dogs had already darted out into the road.
Wolfhounds were strong enough to pull a knight from his saddle and tear him to pieces. It was what they were trained to do. If the woodkerns gave the command…
“Nay!” he heard Temair scream—a panicked scream that chilled his blood and made his heart jab his ribs. “Please! They won’t hurt ye! I swear!”
Ryland charged forward, finally emerging from the trees. He burst onto the road just as his brother raised his sword to attack the hounds snarling at his horse’s flank.
“Adam!” Ryland bellowed.
Startled, Adam stopped his blade. “Ryland?”
“Don’t hurt them,” he panted. “They’re only protecting her.” Then he snapped his fingers. “Flann! Bran! Here!”
The dogs gave one last chuff of aggression and came to him, sitting obediently on either side of him.
Then he turned to look at Temair.
She’d pulled down her scarf and was staring at him in dread. “Ye know these men?”
Before he could answer, Laurence reined in front of Adam. “He should,” he sneered. “They’re his own.”
