The Highlander's Lady Knight (Midsummer Knights #2) - Madeline Martin Page 0,47
He pushed aside the pain. He rolled and he rolled and he rolled, evading Edmund’s blade as he ended up where his own weapon had fallen.
The world spun, but the clink of steel that met his gauntlet told Cormac he’d found his sword. At the moment he paused, Edmund rose over him, readying the blade to plunge down once more.
However, before Edmund could strike, Cormac punched his blade into the air and caught Edmund at the hollow of his throat. The razor-sharp blade slid with ease through sinewy tendon and bone and soft flesh alike. Blood gushed from the wound and splashed over Cormac, but he didn’t stop until Edmund’s blade slipped from his grasp, and he collapsed to the ground.
Only then did Cormac get to his feet and pull the blade from Edmund’s fatal injury. The large warrior’s eyes blinked once in surprise as a gurgle sounded from the gaping wound at his throat. Cormac stared down at his dying opponent.
His head spun with the effects of having been struck by a pommel and kicked in the chin, and his heartbeat was discernible with a painful pulse in his arm.
But he had done it. He had won. He was still alive.
And Isolde was his.
He threw his bloody sword to the grass beside Edmund and glared up at Brodie. “Get away from my wife.”
Wife.
The word was new and wonderful on his tongue. He’d heard Isolde’s claim that they were already wed and was eager for nightfall to come so they could meet with the priest and truly make it so.
He strode toward Brodie. “If I ever see ye near her again, I’ll kill ye too.”
Brodie’s gaze was fixed on his now-dead champion, his gaze fierce before meeting Cormac’s eyes. “Ye’ll pay for this, Sutherland,” Brodie hissed. “Ye’ll pay.”
“I think ye should leave.” Lachlan edged in front of Brodie and put his hand to his hilt.
“He won fairly.” Duncan appeared beside him and followed suit.
Isolde ran to Cormac and threw her arms around him, almost knocking him backward. By some miracle, he managed to stay upright despite his injuries and held her to him, drawing in her sweet, familiar rose scent.
There had been a brief moment when he’d feared never to have the opportunity to do this again.
But he had won.
“You should never have kept me from this fight,” Isolde said in a trembling voice. “You could have been killed.”
“I wasna.” He hugged her against him with his good arm.
He’d been at risk of being killed, aye, but he knew without a shadow of a doubt that she would have been slain. Her body could never have sustained the blows that his had.
If she had fought that day, she would be dead.
Brodie was forced to leave the practice field. His brothers went with him, but they left the body of their champion behind. No doubt their servants would be by at some point to clear it away.
For his part, Cormac kept his gaze away from the man he had killed. He hadn’t wanted to take Edmund’s life. He hadn’t wanted any of this. But he would do it all again to keep Isolde safe.
With his uninjured arm still around her, Cormac allowed Isolde to lead him toward his tent. His body was battered, his head still spun with the hits to his skull, his chest ached where the blade had come down with force upon it and his heart was heavy for the life he’d taken.
But Isolde was safe. Tonight, they would be wed, and Cormac’s people would have the food they needed to survive.
For the first time in far too long, everything was going exactly right for Cormac.
15
Isolde had thought she would lose Cormac that day. And while she was elated at his victory, she could not help but notice how he leaned heavily upon her as they walked to his tent. She’d wanted him to come to the castle, but he refused, saying he would not do so until they were wed.
He was a stubborn man.
A stubborn, wonderful man that had captured her heart in the most uncommon way.
Cormac staggered slightly, almost falling on poor Pip, who had refused to leave her side. Isolde tried to grab Cormac’s arm to hold him to her when he grunted in pain and pitched forward. Isolde gasped in alarm, but before he could hit the ground, Alan was there, groaning with the effort of keeping the much larger man upright.