Page 138 of Laird of Steel
“Aye.”
“Not to use a sword when ye can use fists?”
“Aye.”
“And not to use fists when ye can use words?”
“Aye.”
“Well, for the king, I used words.”
Feiyan looked as if she was going to cast up her breakfast, something she’d done a few times in her pregnancy.
“What words?” Laird Deirdre’s eyes had an icy calm.
Merraid’s mouth went dry. The warrior maid’s Viking origins were obvious now. No wonder she commanded an entire clan.
“What words?” she repeated.
Merraid told her, “The words o’ the only man more powerful than the king.”
Deirdre frowned.
Feiyan frowned.
All of Rivenloch frowned.
Merraid explained. “His Holiness?”
She expected Laird Deirdre would be impressed. Instead, the color drained from her face. “Where’s Adam now?” she breathed.
“Och, he’s safe, m’lady,” Merraid rushed to assure her. “The monk’s robes suit him well. And he’s quite good at Latin. The king will ne’er suspect he’snotthe emissary from the Pope.”
Deirdre’s jaw tensed.
Feiyan paled.
Even Isabel and Ian gasped.
Then Deirdre called over her shoulder to the others, “Make haste!”
They sped along at a lope then, though Merraid couldn’t understand why everyone was in such a panic.
After all, the king and the earls had already arranged a temporary truce.
Merraid had chosen the words of the edict wisely.
And Adam had played his role to perfection.
What could go wrong?
Gellir rubbed an anxious hand across his jaw.
So much could go wrong.
He paced at the back of the pack of soldiers, trying to get a better look at what transpired between the king and the earls.
He squinted at Adam, straining to make out what he was saying. In the midst of the two warring factions, his cousin held the parchment out like a shield, valiantly intoning what a maidservant had tried to pass off as the edict of His Holiness.
