Page 48 of Laird of Steel
“I saw no harm in it,” he replied. It was true enough. He didn’t intend to hurt Merraid. He intended to lose.
Feiyan shook her head. “Try not to injure him, Merraid,” she called out. “He has brides to impress.”
Feiyan’s confidence in her skills should have pleased Merraid. But Merraid’s shoulders lowered, almost imperceptibly. Her feelings were clear. Gellir was an important noble with a bright future. Merraid was only a maidservant. What happened to her was of little consequence.
“To hell with my brides,” he murmured. “Let’s give them a show, shall we?”
“Nay, she’s right,” Merraid said. “I should never have asked ye to—”
Gellir didn’t let her finish. He lunged forward, swinging his blade in a low arc.
Quick on her feet, Merraid leaped up over the sword, spun in the air, and landed with a blind backward stab. He gasped and turned sideways. Her blade missed his belly by an inch.
She dove forward, rolling away from him.
He charged after her, raising his blade.
She whipped around and ran at him with the ferocity of a wild boar.
Fearful she might spit herself on his upraised sword, he lifted it out of the way. At the last moment, she slid into the dirt before him, skidding between his legs in a cloud of dust.
He pivoted to face her. To his surprise, she was already on her feet again, less than a foot in front of him.
Without warning, she punched him in the chin with her targe.
Hard.
Chapter 8
Merraid felt the impact of the shivering targe as it struck Gellir, rocking his chin back. His head wobbled unsteadily on his neck. His eyes seemed to lose focus. He staggered onto one knee, dropping his sword.
“Och!” she cried. She hadn’t meant to hit him that hard. “Are ye all right?”
He tried to answer. His words were muffled. “Och, aye, lassssssssss. Ahm fi—”
Then he fell back to the ground with a thud.
“Gellir!” Merraid cried, dropping to her knees beside him.
She’d never meant to hurt him. Bloody hell. She’d meant to lose the fight. What had she done?
She could hear the crowd murmuring in concern as she clapped frantically at his cheek, trying to revive him. She muttered under her breath. “Wake up now. Come on.”
He didn’t respond. She hadn’t hit himthathard, had she?
“Shite,” she whispered in panic, jostling his shoulders. “Come on, Gellir. Lady Feiyan will ne’er forgive me for bashin’ ye. Laird Dougal will ne’er forgive me for shamin’ ye. And the warriors, they’ll ne’er forgive me for humiliatin’ their champion. Twice.” She let out a sob of despair. “Please, Gellir. Ye’ve got to wake up.”
His eyes were still closed when he grunted, “Fine. Seems you’ve won. So what’s your bidding? What would you have me do?”
She gasped. “Ye faker.”
“Nay,” he said, wincing and rubbing his chin. “’Twas a good clout.” He struggled up to his elbows. Then he waved to the silent crowd to let them know he was alive. “You won the match fairly.”
There was a mix of cheering and booing from those gathered at the fence. As she feared, many were displeased to see their hero fall.
Lady Feiyan called out, “You haven’t broken his nose, have you, Merraid?”
“Never fear, cousin!” Gellir yelled back. “A wee crook would only add character to my face.”
