Page 62 of Bride of Mist
“Nay.”
Chapter 16
Feiyan had more questions for him. At the moment, however, her attention was on the five prowlers stealing through the forest surrounding them.
The Westlander hadn’t noticed them. He was too preoccupied with the unraveling of the incident at Kirkoswald.
But for the last hundred yards, someone had been stalking them.
They were likely outlaws. Thieves roamed the Scottish woods. This wouldn’t be the first time she’d encountered miscreants in the forest. But it would be the first time she’d done so unarmed.
She’d spotted the intruders at once. There were three to their left and two to their right. She couldn’t tell if they had weapons. But the forest was definitely familiar surroundings for them. They were garbed in leafy green and muddy brown and crept through the brush with the silent ease of wolves.
The fact that she was already aware of these details while her companion continued to blather along the trail in blissful ignorance was just one reason he should have returned hershoudao.
It was too late now. She’d have to confront the knaves with her bare hands.
They would likely attack at the neck in the path ahead, where boulders flanked the trail, making it only wide enough for a single person to pass.
She wasn’t worried about Dougal. He could defend himself well enough with her sword, even if it wasn’t his usual claymore. Once he was alerted to the men’s presence, he could take the two on the right.
But for Feiyan, without her weapons, overwhelming the three on the left would be challenging.
Most important, she needed the advantage of surprise. She couldn’t let the intruders know she was aware of them. So she continued her conversation, watching them from the corner of her eye.
“Every laird has enemies,” she said. “Maybe someone from Gaufrid’s past?”
They were ten yards from the passage. Their trackers had melted imperceptibly into the forest.
“None that I know of,” he said.
With the focus of a deer, she listened for sounds that would give away the outlaws’ precise whereabouts.
“He wasn’t indiscreet with any of the village maids?” she murmured.
“I doubt it,” he murmured back.
Five yards. Positive the thieves were lying in wait just beyond the boulders, she made loose fists of her hands and edged in front of Dougal as the trail narrowed.
The last thing she expected was for him to seize her by the scruff of her neck and pull her back, shoving her behind him. But she didn’t dare yell in protest. They were almost upon the outlaws.
She tried to hiss out a warning to him.
But he was already aware of the thieves. Perhaps he’d been aware of them all along.
Soundlessly, he slipped theshoudaofrom its sheath, all the while rattling on, “O’ course ye can ne’er be certain with Gaufrid, not when it comes to—”
Without warning, he slashed toward the right. A yelp of surprise came from behind the rock.
Meanwhile, Feiyan left the trail to circle behind the boulder on the left. Three men huddled there with daggers.
Stealing up behind the first, she circled her right forearm around his red-bearded throat and gave it a sharp squeeze, simultaneously jabbing him hard in the side with her left knuckles. He collapsed, choking and coughing, incapacitated for the moment.
When the second man turned at the sound, she seized his shoulder and swept her foot low, giving him a swift kick that knocked his heels out from under him. He fell flat on his back, next to the first man.
Mac Darragh seemed to be handling the other two outlaws. A quick glance told her one of them lay unconscious in the leaves. The second, a bald man with a black beard, knelt at the point of Dougal’s sword.
But now the last outlaw was ready for her. He had an eating dagger, short and one-sided, but sharp. He also had a determined scowl on his gray-grizzled face. He didn’t care that she was a woman. And he didn’t care that his companions had met with misfortune. She saw weathered desperation in his red-rimmed eyes.
