Page 12 of Bride of Ice
Chapter 5
Something poked Colban, waking him with a start that nearly toppled him to the ground.
“Bloody…!”
He’d forgotten he was in a tree. He made a quick grab for the limb to keep from falling into the jaws of…
The wolves were gone.
In their place stood a smug Valkyrie with a sword—hissword. She must have poked him with it.
He wondered how long she’d been standing there.
Then he wondered if she woke up every morn, looking as fresh and beautiful and magnificent as a newly blossomed rose.
“We should go now,” she said, interrupting his wayward thoughts, “ere they return.”
He was exhausted. His bones ached, thanks to a night spent huddled in a tree. He was in no shape for a long journey. But he knew she was right.
The sun had just lifted its yellow head above the horizon. It wasn’t too late for the wolves to return for one last kill before they retired to their den for the day.
He nodded, raking his tangled hair back from his brow.
Then he realized their situation. He’d been snoring away in a deep sleep. Oblivious to the world. The wolves had gone. The warrior lass had confiscated his claymore. She could have easily escaped.
But she hadn’t. She’d kept her promise. The lass appeared to be a woman of her word.
Still, he wasn’t sure he trusted her to keep it. Not while she was the one holding the claymore.
He swung down from the branch and dropped onto the path. Facing her, he was astonished again by her impressive height. He had to lower his gaze only an inch to stare into eyes as calm and blue as the summer sea.
A sunbeam shot through the trees, gilding her ice-blonde tresses. Warming her cheek with a rosy blush. Brushing her lips with a gentle kiss of light.
For an instant, he couldn’t speak. Couldn’t move. Couldn’t breathe.
Then she spoke, startling him from his reverie.
“Let’s go,” she said, nodding to indicate the path ahead.
He frowned, confused for a moment. The Valkyrie might be fierce and beautiful. But she apparently had no sense of direction. It was a good thing he’d followed her into the woods.
“Creagor is backthisway,” he said. He cocked his head in the direction they’d come and held his hand out for his claymore.
“We’re not going to Creagor.”
Her chilling assertion sent a shiver along his spine. His eyes flattened. His lips thinned.
“Ye made a vow,” he reminded her.
“And I’ll keep it.” She lowered her eyes. “Just not yet.”
“Not yet? What is that supposed to—”
Her hand tightened on the claymore.
He muttered a curse. She’d seemed so honorable, so upstanding. But he should have known better than to take her at her word. To a lass like her, words were tools to be bent to her will.
He shook his head. A wise man never relied upon a woman. They were about as trustworthy as wolves.
