Page 155 of Bride of Ice
Finally, Deirdre unleashed a barrage of blows.
To Hallie’s amazement, he easily deflected them all.
But her mother, aware now that the knight was capable of mounting a good defense, understood she’d have to fight with more brains than brawn.
They battled back and forth, like cats playing with mice, each waiting for the other to make a deadly mistake.
He almost got her once, and the gasps from the crowd were evidence of how close the sword that whistled past her head had come.
While she was recovering, he followed up with an onslaught of aggressive attacks that she caught on her shield. Finally, one hard strike from his sword cracked her shield in two, rendering it useless.
She tossed the thing aside, intending to continue fighting.
But The Sable Knight lowered his weapon and backed away, offering her the opportunity to fetch a new shield.
If it had been Hallie, her first instinct would have been to seize that opportunity.
Her second instinct—and what her mother did—was to yield.
Laird Deirdre lowered her sword, announcing that The Sable Knight had won the match fairly.
The crowd cheered her act of chivalry—and his—and she waved at them in thanks and recognition. Hallie realized at that moment that, for a laird, winning the clan’s respect was far more important than winning the match.
She was still considering her mother’s wisdom when the two combatants exited the field and she heard Laird Deirdre murmuring to The Sable Knight.
“You know, if you have no affiliations, if you’re truly a knight-errant, the forces of Rivenloch would be glad to have you among our ranks.”
He gave her a nod of thanks, but didn’t reply. And once more, Hallie was struck by his strong resemblance to Colban. What it was, she didn’t know. His scent? His mannerisms? The shape of his body? The sensation persisted, no matter how unlikely and irrational it seemed.
Giving her head a mental shake, she strode away to splash water on her face, half to wash away the grime of the field and half to sober herself from distracting thoughts. She had to prepare for the championship match. After all, how could she gaze at her opponent as they exchanged mortal blows, wondering all the while if he was the father of her child?
Chapter 40
When Hallie returned to the field, it was with new determination. She tossed her braid over her shoulder and settled her helm down over her head, loosened her shoulders and blew out a hard breath.
This was it. No matter if she fought Colban an Curaidh or the Devil himself, Hallie planned to defeat The Sable Knight and claim the title of champion for Rivenloch.
As he’d done with her mother, the knight began by goading her with gentle taps that were easy to block, drawing her gradually into the fight. For one horrifying, distracting moment, the manner of his fighting seemed all too much like the Highlander’s seduction. The way he lured her in. Tempted her. Made her desperate to engage him…
Hallie slammed the portcullis on that thought before it could lay siege to her concentration.
The Sable Knight was an opponent, nothing more.
Hallie adjusted her shield. Her gift was her patience and perseverance. If he insisted on taking tentative, non-lethal jabs at her, all she had to do was wait for him to tire of the game.
When he finally changed the rhythm of his advances and lunged forward, she was ready for him. She cast off his sword and surged forward with her own, pummeling him in the ribs.
He recovered quickly, but she could see her swift counterattack had rattled him. Much like her eager response to Colban’s kisses had thrown him off-balance.
Mortified once again by the direction of her musings, Hallie retreated, slicing through the air as if mentally murdering her thoughts.
Meanwhile, he circled her cautiously, looking for an opening.
She gave him one. But it was a deceptive advantage. When he attacked in the gap she intentionally left between her sword and shield, she spun, scissoring her arms to catch and deflect his blade.
Sometimes that trick could disarm an opponent. Not this one. The knight clung to his sword with an iron grip.
They battled back and forth in a straightforward manner for several exchanges, lunging and hacking, thrusting and blocking.
