Page 97 of Laird of Smoke
The king steepled his fingers in front of him.“So you have no proof then?”
The guards chuckled aloud.
Adam clenched his jaw.He’d had enough.He’d risked his life, voluntarily embedding himself in the keep of the enemy to spy on the king’s behalf.
Proof?The king wanted proof he was a Rivenloch?
Fueled by the cold blood of his Viking forebears and the hot blood of his Scots ancestors, he wrenched his left arm out of the guard’s grip, turned to the guard on his right, and gave him a hard punch just above his smirking mouth.A punch that crunched the bones of the man’s nose and made him stagger away in pain.
The guard on his left drew his dagger.Adam dodged the quick thrust, seizing the man’s wrist and bending it backwards until he dropped to his knees with a yowl.Adam grabbed the weapon before it fell from the guard’s limp fingers.Then he faced the two soldiers at the pavilion door.They were armed with swords.
He could still best them.Hell, he could kill them.But that would be a mistake.
Instead, he rushed at one of them, blocking the man’s upraised blade with the haft of the dagger before diving toward his shins to bowl him over backwards.
While he disentangled himself from the fallen soldier, he lost the dagger.The second guard had time to take a few swings at him.Adam dodged right.Then he rolled left.At the third strike, he managed to kick the man’s hand, altering its course.The blade whistled past Adam’s head, missing him by an inch.
Borrowing one of his sister Feiyan’s tricks, he leaped to his feet, did a quick spin and, with his heel, kicked the guard full force in the side of the head.The man went down like a puppet with its strings cut.
Adam located and scooped up the dropped dagger, bracing himself for more attacks.
There were none.
Breathing heavily, he glanced at the king.
Malcolm looked suitably frightened.As he should have been.Adam still had a dagger.If he’d been a foe instead of a loyal vassal, he could have killed the king.
Instead, Adam came forward, lowered himself to one knee, and offered Malcolm the weapon, hilt first.
The king didn’t bother taking it, saying in awe, “Youarea Rivenloch.”
“Aye, Your Grace.”
The king squinted to study him more thoroughly.Adam wasn’t sure it helped.
“Ah, of course, we see it now,” Malcolm said.“We remember you from…from…”
Malcolm obviously didnotremember him, though they’d met several times before.But that was fine with Adam.Until now, his invisibility had always been a useful gift.
“Last spring, I came to my cousin Gellir’s wedding tournament at Perth, Your Grace,” Adam told him.That much was true, even though he’d been in disguise.
“Aye, that’s it.”
The fallen guards began to rouse.They grumbled, trying to regain their balance and their dignity as they saw Malcolm and Adam conversing peacefully.
The king asked, “Why have you come, Sir…?”
“Adam.Sir Adam la Nuit.I’ve come to serve Your Grace.”
“Serve me?How?”
“I’ve come to be a royal scout.”
“A scout?”He scratched his chin.“You mean a spy?”
“If you wish.”
“On whom do you mean to spy?”
