Page 7 of Bride of Mist
At least that was how it started.
The clang of metal weapons and the playful taunting of jovial opponents filled the balmy spring air. More than a hundred competitors had come from faraway lands to test their mettle against the infamous Rivenloch warriors. They now joined in the mock battle, young and old alike. Even Feiyan’s nephews were allowed to take part, since the worst they would likely suffer were a few scrapes and bruises.
Feiyan grinned as she sparred with a large mac Giric knight, confounding him as she pitted her pair of blunt, forkedsaisfrom the East against his dulled longsword.
Then, out of nowhere, a sharp claymore intruded upon their sport.
Whistling through the air, it landed with killing force.
Breaking swords.
Breaking bones.
Hacking through chain mail and gambeson.
Savagely wounding and slashing everything in its path.
Shrieks of disbelief and screams of pain suddenly rent the air. But they didn’t stop the one wielding the blade. They only fueled his fury.
The brutal knight behind the cruel attack was large, dark, aggressive, and merciless. He swung his great blade in wide swaths, like a ruthless reaper harvesting souls. And though Feiyan couldn’t discern his face in the shadows of his black helm, she could feel the pure rage and beastly violence emanating from his armor.
It was his final blow, striking her cousin Hallie’s head—a blow that knocked off Hallie’s helm and sent her to the ground with a horrible, deadly thud—that stopped Feiyan’s breath.
In one fateful instant, fierce and vital Hallie was rendered still. Silent.
For Feiyan, time slowed to a crawl.
Her eyes widened while her brain tried to deny what she saw. Weighed down in the moment, she couldn’t drag her gaze away from the dreadful sight.
Outside sounds grew muffled, until all she could hear was the sluggish pounding of her own heart, like dull blows beating the drum of her soul.
It wasn’t possible.
Hallie couldn’t be dead.
The three Rivenloch cousins—Hallie, Feiyan, and Jenefer—were as close as sisters. From the time they were small, they’d done everything together.
Made mischief.
Battled foes.
Grown to womanhood.
The three of them were an unstoppable force.
That Hallie could be gone forever—and so suddenly—was unimaginable.
Yet there she lay, motionless on the ground.
Even the monster responsible for her defeat seemed stricken by what he’d done. Jarred from his furious onslaught, he dropped his claymore with a ragged gasp. Staggered back. And fled.
Some of her clan bolted after him in pursuit, shaking their useless, dulled weapons. But before anyone could reach him, the man swung up onto an enormous black charger and dug his heels into the horse’s flanks. Man and beast thundered across the sod, disappearing out the palisade gates of Creagor.
Meanwhile, a knight sank to his knees beside Hallie. Morgan Mor mac Giric’s right hand man, Colban an Curaidh. Colban the Champion. The Highlander Hallie had once captured. The man Hallie’s matchmaking sister had called The One.
He wouldn’t accept that Hallie was dead. Whether by a miracle born of desperation, the man’s stubbornness, or the sheer strength of his love, Colban somehow managed to breathe life back into the woman without whom he couldn’t live.
At Hallie’s first gasp of precious breath, Feiyan’s heart swelled with gratitude.
