Page 17 of Bride of Ice
“Tendin’ coos?” Colban felt the blood start to throb in his temples. “I’ll have ye know the mac Girics have the finest fightin’ forces in the Highlands.”
“Indeed?” she said. “Why?”
He stopped in his tracks, turning to scowl at her. “What do ye mean—why?”
“’Tisn’t as if youneeda fighting force. You only quibble among yourselves, aye?” She shrugged. “Who stole whose coo? Who’s been swiving the sheepherder’s wife o’er the hill? Which lad has the biggest—”
“Hold on now!” Now he was truly riled. “Are ye insultin’ my clan?”
She arched a slender brow at him. “’Tisn’t as if you’ve ever faced arealfoe.”
His eyes widened in shock.
Her voice was full of cool pride as she proclaimed, “For hundreds of years, the warriors of Rivenloch have engaged in full-scale battle against the English for control of the Border lands. We’re the progeny of Vikings, and we’ve guarded Scotland for generations of kings. There is no better force to defend Creagor.”
“Is that so?” He glared at her in challenge. “Then why has Rivenloch sentthree maidsto steal her from her rightful owner?”
For an instant, the Valkyrie was rattled. She blinked, lost for words.
He pressed his point. “If Rivenloch’s forces are so formidable, why were ye sneakin’ about in the dead o’ night?”
While she was flummoxed, he delivered the killing blow. “And if ye’re so keen on defendin’ Creagor, why have ye absconded with the man who was guardin’ the gate?”
She gave a quick gasp. But her retort was like a slim dagger slipped between his ribs. “You mean the mandozingat the gate?”
He colored. Somehow she’d found a chink in his armor. But before he could bite out a word in his defense, she poked his hip with the sword, prodding him down the path again.
“Go.”
His face burning with humiliation and rage, he stalked down the path with new determination. Now he waseagerto get to Rivenloch.
This lass might be lovely and desirable. But she was as cold and cunning as a serpent, twisting his words and biting him where he was most vulnerable with her deadly fangs.
Surely themenof Rivenloch would be more reasonable.
Hallie hated to admit it, but this Highlander wielded a weapon far more pointed and powerful than his claymore. He was gifted with a sharp tongue and a sharper wit.
Even she, who prided herself on her way with words, had trouble defending against his logic.
She dreaded to think whose soft minds he might bend to his will once they arrived at Rivenloch.
Nonetheless, it was a risk she had to take. She couldn’t hold him captive in the forest forever. Not with wolves ranging the woods.
Besides, the man now seemed hell-bent on getting there as quickly as possible, swallowing up the trail with his long strides. He probably hoped to outdistance her or at least make her struggle to keep up with him. But she matched him, stride for stride, and it wasn’t long before she glimpsed the gray stones of Rivenloch through the thinning branches of pine.
Of course, they were noticed as soon as they emerged from the trees. The guards atop the battlements were already awake and alert.
By the time they reached the castle wall, Sir Rauve himself had arrived to open the palisade gate. By the look of him, he hadn’t slept a wink. And he minced no words as he ushered them in.
“Where are the others?” he growled.
“Captive,” she replied.
He bit out a curse. “And this one?” He glowered at the Highlander.
“Leverage,” she said.
Rauve grunted. “Who is he?”
