The Highlander's Lady Knight (Midsummer Knights #2) - Madeline Martin Page 0,51

was over and several knights had descended into hand-to-hand combat before joining the field on foot. She needed to be as close to the warriors as she could get, and horseback wouldn’t allow that. After all, she wasn’t there to win. She was there to protect.

Several knights attacked her as soon as she entered the field. One came at her from the right, but she blocked his blow and managed to evade the thrust of his pike as someone else locked him in combat from the other side. Another came at her head-on, swinging his iron-spiked club.

These were lethal weapons being used in a melee that was supposed to be absent death.

She shifted her horse away from the attack as the knight strode off toward another hapless victim. A band of tall men with red-and-white surcoats traveling in a group together caught her attention. She recognized their surcoats as the Ross clan’s. No doubt, the five brothers and several of their warriors. The group didn’t appear to be fighting actively, so much as heading in a specific direction.

Isolde could make out the Sutherland crest on Cormac and Graham’s surcoats in the distance. Which was exactly the direction that the Ross brothers were heading.

No doubt to exact revenge.

Cormac could practically smell the odor of the Ross clan advancing toward them. They stank of weakness, failure and blind vengeance.

“They’re coming,” he said.

Graham nodded and hefted his bladed mace. Lachlan and Duncan did likewise with their pikes. They’d all left their swords back at the tent, knowing the men who would attack them would be using weapons made for getting through chainmail. To do otherwise would put them at a great disadvantage.

Hoofbeats thundered as the Rosses came at them all at once, a pack of twelve roaring warriors intent on killing with war hammers and maces and skinny-speared pikes. Brodie charged at Cormac as another brother, presumably Baston, went for Graham and the others dispersed between them.

Brodie swiped his war hammer at Cormac’s left arm, exactly over his injury from Edmund. Cormac managed to get his mace up in time to block the blow. Had it struck, it might have been debilitating.

Clangs and grunts echoed as Graham, Lachlan and Duncan fought the other Ross warriors in unbalanced matches.

Two more warriors joined Brodie, all coming at Cormac at the same time. He moved as swiftly as he could to block the blows, but one of Brodie’s hits made it past his defenses and slammed into his back, knocking the wind from his lungs and leaving fire in its place. A second hit followed the first and Cormac rocked on his saddle, his balance shifting. The pain in his back had been so stunning, he couldn't properly catch his balance and pitched from his horse.

He gasped for breath at the hard landing and staggered backward in an attempt to regain his bearings before resuming the fight on foot. Brodie leapt from his own horse, joining Cormac on the ground, and lashing out with the heavy metal head of his weapon.

A perfectly placed blow could easily shatter one of Cormac’s bones.

Another warrior charged at him, one shorter and thinner than Brodie. An easier target.

Cormac lifted his mace and brought it down hard on the warrior’s shoulder. The needle-like blades of the mace sunk through the man’s chain, turning it red with blood. He cried out in agony as Cormac jerked his weapon free. It gave way with a wet, sucking sound.

His opponent doubled over in pain. That was when Cormac caught sight of the person racing toward them with purpose. His heart caught as he recognized the surcoat. Dark blue with white trim and a white moon and sun.

The surcoat of the Earl of Easton.

Which meant the person charging toward the heat of battle between the Sutherlands and the Rosses was Isolde.

Cormac bellowed his disapproval; his attention so fixated on her as she neared them that he did not see the hammer come down upon him. It struck his left arm with a hit that glanced off his chainmail and left his bones rattling. His vision clouded in his agony.

Brodie took a menacing step toward Cormac and lifted the hammer with intent. The pain kept Cormac frozen in place for a half a second too long, leaving him at the momentary mercy of his enemy.

Isolde leapt from her horse, plowing her full body weight into Brodie, so he was jarred sideways. As he drew himself upright, she retrieved the pike his brother had dropped on the