Page 156 of Bride of Fire
Morgan was magnificent. With one powerful shove of his targe, he knocked three English foes onto their arses. With a sweep of his claymore, he sent another man sprawling.
At the fore of the battle, Jenefer saw Hallie fighting with cold, calculating menace, slashing one man’s thigh and another man’s arm with two expert blows.
Next to Hallie, Feiyan raised one of her heavy forks, catching and snapping off an enemy blade with the flick of her wrist.
Her Uncle Pagan used his shield to shove a knight toward her Aunt Deirdre, who dispatched him with ease.
Feiyan’s mother, Miriel, leaped about like lightning, stinging victims with a needle-like dagger, while her father, Rand, finished them off with thrusts of his broadsword.
And Jenefer’s own mother and father, Helena and Colin, sent up showers of sparks as they crossed swords with their foes, bellowing out curses and howling in triumph.
The tide was turning.
They just might win this battle.
Chapter 65
In his heart, Morgan was fighting for his life and the lives of his clansmen. But he had to admit that repelling the English from the gates of Creagor gave him great satisfaction.
He also had to admit he was glad Rivenloch wasn’t his foe.
Well-equipped and seasoned, menacing and effective, the army was the most impressive he’d ever seen.
To his surprise, he glimpsed Feiyan leaping among the fray. And he recognized Hallie as she hacked at the legs of a soldier who got too close to Feiyan. There were other female warriors in their midst. One of them saluted him after dispatching an enemy who’d taken a swing at Morgan’s head.
The battle didn’t last long. Morgan’s men had advanced mere yards past the broken doors when Roger realized he was outmatched.
“To Firthgate!” the English lord cried. “Retreat!”
Rivenloch’s forces could have slaughtered every last one of them as they turned their backs and funneled through the palisade gates. But Lady Deirdre was merciful. She gave orders not to pursue the fleeing army, allowing them to bolt to safety before closing the gates behind them.
That was fine with Morgan. The English had been deceived by Alicia, just as he had. They couldn’t be blamed for seeking out justice for their lord’s murder. On the other hand, they’d think twice before crossing the border to attack Creagor again.
As he watched the English flee, Morgan heard a sharp scream of rage from the courtyard behind him.
“Nay!” Alicia shrieked. “Cowards!”
He strode back through the splintered doors to see what was amiss.
Eager to welcome her clan, Jenefer had come down the stairs to the yard as well.
Alicia stood between the two of them, spitting mad. She’d clearly expected the English to seize the castle and oust Morgan. Her plans had been foiled. Her rescuers had abandoned her.
If she weren’t such a villain—making Morgan believe she was dead, killing her lover and her midwife, blaming Morgan for the murder, goading the English into attacking Creagor, threatening the life of his son—he might have felt sorry for her.
She had nowhere to go now. She’d managed to bind her gruesome wound. It had stopped bleeding. But her hand hung limp at her side. She might never recover from the damage to her arm. And her one hope of escape was retreating out the palisade gates.
“Come back here!” she screamed, her face purpling.
“Why would they?” Jenefer scoffed.
“Ye betrayed them, Alicia,” Morgan said, “just as ye betrayed me.”
He expected Alicia to try manipulating him again. To concoct a new, twisted version of events. To beseech him to forgive her.
He didn’t expect her to lash out at him. But her eyes were wild with fury. Venemous with revenge.
“This isyourfault!” she barked.
