Page 103 of The Hawk Laird
Isobel gasped to see them, while Sir Ralph swore hoarsely and grabbed the hilt of his sword. Trembling, Isobel shifted the exhausted goshawk to her fist and watched the others, her heart pounding in anticipation.
Quentin, Patrick, and Janet came forward, bows ready. Janet stopped and raised her arrow tip to aim it at Sir Ralph, while Patrick and Quentin trained their bolts on the men lying on the ground.
“Janet! Put that away!” Leslie shouted.
“If you move, I will put this arrow away in you, sir,” she said. As she spoke, James walked between through the group.
“What are you waiting for? Get him!” Sir Ralph yelled at Sir Gawain and the other guard.
Isobel saw the guard glance at Gawain, then shook his head in refusal.
“God’s bones!” Leslie snapped. “Gawain! Take care of them!”
Sir Gawain shoved back his chain mail hood, his dark hair whipping in the breeze. “I cannot do that, sir,” he said, and circled his horse to ride toward the outlaws. The guard went with him. Sir Ralph snarled curses after them.
All the while, James moved closer, his stride long and sure, and the others came with him, their bows trained on Sir Ralph. Then Isobel saw her father standing at the edge of the path just as Sir Gawain and the other soldier halted their horses near him.
Ralph grabbed the hilt of his sword, the steel chiming as he pulled it free. Instantly an arrow sailed just past his ear to landin the earth beside his horse, which sidestepped. Patrick set another arrow in his bow as Leslie sheathed his sword slowly.
“What do you want?” he demanded. “Do you mean to rob us?”
“You do carry a treasure we want,” James said. “Black Isobel of Aberlady.” He stood on the path, gripping his upright, loaded bow. Isobel saw wariness and power in every line of his body, and saw a fierce, cool glint in his blue eyes. She wanted desperately to leap from her horse and run to him, but kept her seat, holding the hawk, suddenly uncertain. Surely he was furious with her for marrying Leslie.
“If you take her, you directly offend King Edward, who is waiting to welcome her,” Sir Ralph growled. “And she is my wife now, as you know. So you have no right to claim her.”
“I do not care about offending Edward of England—or you. I wish to speak with Lady Isobel,” James said. Isobel frowned, watching, her heart quickening.
“She does not speak to brigands.” Sir Ralph looked around as if hoping to see the return of his guards or the recovery of the men lying on the ground. “Step aside!” He urged his horse forward. “Come ahead, Isobel.”
Patrick released another arrow. The bolt slammed into the ground in front of Sir Ralph’s horse as it stepped back with a whinny. “Halt! The man wishes to speak with Lady Isobel,” Patrick snarled.
Behind him, others emerged from the trees to stand guard over the fallen soldiers, some of whom began to stir. James came closer.
He moved toward Isobel’s horse and looked up at her, his gaze keen, the hand wrapped around the upright bow white-knuckled. She held the hawk on her fist and gazed at him, calm as she could.
“Lady Isobel, tell me this,” he said. “Will you choose safe passage through the forest”—his voice had such power, resonating in the air, in her very being—“or will you follow a different path with an outlaw?”
She caught her breath. “I would—”
“Enough!” Sir Ralph snapped. “The king awaits her. If you touch the prophetess, you will be hunted down by English soldiers. Isobel, if you leave me, these outlaws will die. I will see to it.”
Uncertain, she glanced from him to James. On the glove, the hawk chittered, restless.
“Edward’s men have hunted me before, and so have you.” James dropped the bow and shouldered it. “Isobel, make your choice.”
Yearning welled up inside of her, tugging between her and James. But she knew they would never be safe from Leslie and the English if she went with him. “I made a choice yesterday. You are free now because of that.”And I am trapped.
“You have your answer. Clear the way!” Leslie took the reins of Isobel’s horse and drew her along with him. “You will have safe passage and she has made her choice. Be gone!”
James snatched the bridle of Isobel’s horse. “My lady, are you eager to see the English king?”
“I am not. This is much against my will.”
“Then you must be in need of a rescue,” he drawled.
“I am,” she said breathlessly.
He yanked out his dagger and sliced through the taut reins that Ralph held. Then he shoved her horse aside and squared his stance in the path, raising his bow again.
