The Highlander Series(275)

Remembering Gannon’s advice, she began to circle, just as she’d done every time before. There was truth in Gannon’s words. She was predictable by the sheer fact that she performed the same ritual every time and waited for Caelen to strike.

Digging deep to find the last of her flagging strength, she raised her sword, let out a yell to rival any warrior, and charged.

Caelen grinned then let out a whoop of his own as their swords met. The clash could be heard all over the courtyard. Invigorated, Rionna thrust, parried, and kept driving him back, using her quickness and the fact that she swung a much lighter sword keep him from launching a counterattack.

Aye, he was on the defensive now. Just where she wanted him until he provided an opening.

Despite the frigid air, sweat poured from her brow. Her jaw ached from her clenched teeth and her eyes were narrowed in intense concentration.

Caelen swung his sword but she turned and thrust out her blade to block. The force drove her to one knee and before she could recover, with a flick of his wrist, he knocked the sword from her hand.

“Better, wife. But not good enough.”

Deciding she’d had enough of that smug superiority, she ducked low and launched herself at him. She lined up her shoulder and hit him right below the waist.

He let out a string of curses that blistered her ears. Then he slipped to his knees, his hand cupping his cods. His sword fell from his other hand and landed in the snow.

Rionna stumbled back, retrieved her sword, and then put the tip to his neck. “Do you yield?”

“Hell yes, I yield or you’ll likely slice off what’s left of my cods.”

The strain in his voice and the pain creasing his forehead might have ordinarily concerned her, but then she remembered the hours of hell he’d just put her through and all sympathy disappeared.

Gannon stepped forward, wheezing with laughter. Caelen sent him a dark scowl.

“Shut the hell up, Gannon.”

Gannon let out another guffaw and then pounded Rionna on the back, nearly knocking her to the ground. “And that, my lady, is how you fell a warrior.”

“Did you tell her to rearrange my balls?” Caelen demanded.

“Nay. I only told her to go on the offensive. I’d say she thinks well on her feet.”

“Sweet Jesu,” Caelen said as he struggled to his feet. “I was rather fond of that portion of my anatomy, wife.”

Rionna grinned cheekily and then leaned close to Caelen so Gannon wouldn’t overhear. “So was I. I do hope there’s no permanent damage.”

“Disrespectful baggage,” Caelen complained. “ ’Tis a situation I’ll remedy later.”

Then he touched her cheek where one fading bruise still smudged her skin. “Do your injuries still pain you? Did you overreach today with your training?”

“Nay,” she whispered. “ ’Tis naught but a twinge now and then. ’Tis been a fortnight and I can see near to perfect from my eye again.”

“Laird! A messenger approaches the gates!”

Caelen shoved her against Gannon and picked up his sword from the snow. “Take her inside at once and alert the rest of the men.”

Knowing this wasn’t the time to protest, Rionna allowed Gannon to hustle her inside the keep. He relinquished her in the hall next to the fire and then he shouted orders that were echoed throughout the keep.

“My lady, what is about?” Sarah asked as she hurried into the hall.

“I know not, Sarah. A messenger approaches our gate. We’ll know when the laird tells us what is happening.”

“Sit then and let me bring you hot broth. You tremble with cold and your clothing is wet through. Warm yourself by the fire before you catch your death of cold.”

Rionna looked down at her bedraggled clothing and shook her head ruefully. She’d put in a hard day’s work. She hadn’t even registered the dampness spreading over her clothing, but now that Sarah had mentioned it, Rionna could feel the chill wrought by the wet material clinging to her body.

She moved closer to the fire and stretched out her hands as the keep buzzed with activity around her. She sighed as some of the heat thawed her fingertips and warmth traveled up her arms.

She turned when she heard her husband’s footsteps. How quickly she’d become attuned to him. She knew even with her back turned that he’d entered the room.

“Is aught amiss?” she asked.

“Nay. ’Twas a McCabe man bearing a message from my brother. He is to arrive soon and requested shelter. He travels to Neamh Álainn with Mairin, Crispen, and Isabel.”

“In this weather?”

It shocked Rionna that Ewan would chance traveling in such conditions when Isabel was so young.