Page 141 of Bride of Mist
Fergus took a swipe at Dougal’s neck with theshoudao,but Dougal was quick to block it with the flat of his claymore.
Thwarted, Fergus slashed again, this time aiming for Dougal’s shoulder, missing by only an inch.
On Fergus’s third attempt, Merraid, who had been cowering in fright against the buttery wall, scooped up two of the fallen cheeses and sent them bowling toward Fergus’s feet. He stumbled over them, catching himself with one hand on the wall. But theshoudaoswung wide, ruining his attack and giving Dougal a moment to recover.
Time seemed to stand still as Feiyan studied the situation around her.
While the Fortanachs were spitting and thrusting, banging into shelves, slashing wildly at everything in reach, Gaufrid had stood aside, looking on with a dazed and slow-witted stare, as if his clansmen were performing for his entertainment.
Now a cruel and amused sneer curdled the laird’s face. An expression that was greedy. Entitled. Self-serving. Everything that Dougal was not.
She also saw that Gaufrid was unguarded. Unarmed. Vulnerable.
Dougal could have easily struck him down.
Yet he didn’t.
And she realized in that frozen instant of time that Dougal was incapable of raising a blade against him. Gaufrid was his brother. And his laird. His own father’s death was too fresh in his mind to dishonor that memory with familial bloodshed.
Feiyan, however, had no qualms about ending a monster’s life. She was an assassin. She had a heart of steel. She could do what was necessary.
Dougal had never seen her as a coldblooded killer. Never imagined she was capable of deadly violence. Now he would witness it with his own eyes.
He would be horrified. And he’d probably never forgive her.
But it was the right thing to do. For Dougal. And for his clan.
Too much was at stake to think of her own interests and what future she might have had with the charming Westlander.
Mac Darragh needed a new laird. His clanneededDougal. More than she did.
And it was that thought that gave her the resolve to thrust forward with thebishou,aiming with killing force at the spot just under Gaufrid’s ribs in order to give the villain a quick and merciful death, a kinder death than he deserved.
But it was not to be. As Morris shook his head to clear residual daze, he staggered over the spilled cheeses. His flailing hand bumped Feiyan’s arm and ruined her aim. Instead of piercing Gaufrid’s heart, the needle of herbishousank into the flesh of his side.
Gaufrid wailed like a stuck pig, stopping everyone in their tracks.
Feiyan would have withdrawn thebishouand given him a second thrust to end the ghastly noise. But he retreated out of reach, staring in horror at the weapon protruding from his side.
Fergus was the first to recover. Infuriated by the interfering maidservant who continued to bowl cheeses at them, he turned toward that easy target. Raising his meaty left fist, he punched her in the face.
Merraid crashed into a shelf, cracking her head on the crockery, and sank bonelessly to the floor. Blood poured from her broken nose, dripping onto her pale bosom.
With an oath, Dougal dropped his claymore and surged forward, falling to his knees beside the moaning maid.
“There ’tis,” Fergus said with a nasty chortle. “Your weakness. Ye’ve got a soft heart for helpless creatures.”
“Ye mons-,” Dougal snarled.
That was all he got out. Using the pommel of theshoudao,Fergus struck Dougal’s chin with full force. Dougal’s head snapped back, his eyes rolled, and he fell into oblivion.
Feiyan felt his defeat like a blow to her chest. But there was no time for heartache. She had to quickly reassess the situation.
She was unarmed. Dougal and Merraid were incapacitated. Fergus had hershoudao.Morris had two daggers. And Gaufrid was still screaming.
Morris came at her slowly, leering as he brandished his pair of daggers, forcing her to retreat. When her back hit the wall, he bared his teeth in triumph.
Then a slight breeze from the passageway beyond swept up the stairs and ruffled his hair. His eyes slipped to the secret entrance.
