Page 38 of Laird of Flint
Hew silenced them with an upraised hand and spoke to her.
“I’ll make you a trade,” he offered, stepping forward.
She shoved the axe quickly toward him again, forcing him back.
He bit out a frustrated curse. Then he nodded toward Hamish. “Take the coo. Just give me that rope from around his neck. And leave me my axe. I’ll tie these two up. The laird can find them on the morrow.”
“What?” Herbert squeaked.
“Nay!” Gilbert bellowed. “We’ll freeze to death.”
“You can cuddle with the cattle,” the warrior called back over his shoulder. “They’ll keep you warm enough.”
The Boyles weren’t going to linger long enough to be tied up. They beat a hasty retreat, heading back toward the woods.
He turned to Carenza. “Are we agreed?”
His offer was tempting. He had an honest face. A noble bearing. Earnest eyes that seemed to pierce her soul.
She blinked. She shouldn’t trust him. Why would he simply let her go?
He nodded as if reading her mind. “I know you don’t trust me, lass,” he murmured. “But I’m a knight of Rivenloch, and I swear on my honor I will keep my word.”
She considered his oath. She believed the illustrious Rivenloch tournament champion, Sir Gellir, was probably a man of honor. But she knew nothing about the rest of the clan. They could be a pack of wild savages for all she knew.
Still, the passionate sincerity in his gaze…
“Pray make haste,” he urged. “They’re getting away.”
She decided she’d trust him enough to give him the rope. But not the axe.
She nodded. Then she made a slow retreat, brandishing the weapon before her, until she could reach Hamish’s head.
The man stayed obediently rooted to the spot while she ducked under Hamish’s horns and loosened the rope around his neck. But she kept her eye on him.
Once the rope was off, the man’s impatience showed. He waved his fingers toward her.
“Hurry, lass,” he said. “They’re halfway up the hill.”
But she had one more precaution to take. Something to ensure her safety.
She slipped the rope off Hamish’s horns with her left hand. But before she tossed the coil to the warrior, she reared back her right arm and, with all her might, hurled the axe as far as she could across the field.
It arced impressively through the sky, catching the moonlight on its sharp blade as it tumbled end over end before clattering onto the ground.
Ten yards away.
She sighed in exasperation.
He was too polite to comment, but she detected a gleam of amusement in his narrowed eyes.
After that, she may have thrown the rope at him with more force than was necessary.
His reflexes were good enough to keep it from smacking him in the chest. After he caught it, he hurried off after his quarry.
This was her chance to escape.
All things considered, the odds were still in her favor.
