Bride of Ice (The Warrior Daughters of Rivenloch #2) - Glynnis Campbell Page 0,125

if there was the slightest possibility the bairn was his, he couldn’t walk away and leave Hallie alone to raise the child. Hell, he realized, even if the child wasn’t his, he didn’t want her to have to bear the burden of being both a laird and a widowed mother.

“’Tis far too dangerous,” Morgan warned. “The Rivenloch clan has every right to string ye up for Archie’s murder.”

“’Tis a risk I have to take.”

Morgan shook his head. “Ye should never have come back, brother.” Then he gave Colban a rueful smile. “Though I’m glad ye did. There’s no one I’d rather have steal my silver in the tournament.”

Colban lifted a corner of his lip. “’Twas my pleasure.”

Then a great horn sounded, calling the combatants to return to the field for the melee.

Colban would wait until after the battle to find Hallie. After all, she might well refuse his offer. And if she did, it would be better if he didn’t reveal himself to her clan. He would quietly slip away, avoiding execution and continuing his existence as The Sable Knight.

In the excitement of preparing for the melee, Hallie’s disappointment at losing the sword battle was completely forgotten.

Jenefer had prepared something quite special. Melees had always been a risky event. Brutal and chaotic, they were little different from an actual battle. Casualties piled up on all sides. Rather than training knights for war, melees served to cripple fit warriors and diminish one’s forces. Indeed, for a time, melees had even been outlawed in England.

But for this event, Jenefer had specified that weapons were to be blunted. She’d even had her armorer forge dulled swords for those who didn’t bring their own. Best of all, Gellir, Brand, and other younger lads who were usually excluded from tournaments could safely participate. It was a genius idea, exposing them to the dynamics of a real battle with none of the dangers.

That was the intent.

And at first it went remarkably well. Over a hundred warriors took the field when the fighting began. Rather than the savage curses and groans of pain that usually accompanied a melee, the air was filled with laughter, grunts, and good-natured ribbing.

Gellir, of course, took it all very seriously. Before long, he was leaping into the fray against Sir Rauve and their father and even Laird Morgan, as if he were suddenly their equal.

Hallie fought close to Brand. While he was in no peril of being slashed or stabbed, his wild antics could get him trampled or cost him an eye.

All was going well, and Jenefer jested that, at this rate, they would all tire before anyone triumphed.

Then the first scream floated across the battlefield.

Chapter 41

Colban was not happy. True, with blunted weapons, the melee was more like a rough game than a mock battle. But Hallie was in the thick of it, putting herself and her babe at risk.

He could see why no one had noticed Hallie’s condition. The lass might look slightly thicker around the middle, but her cotun and chain mail hid it well.

He shuddered. The blades might be blunted. But some of the combatants dealt out rib-bruising, bone-breaking blows. And since only Isabel and a handful of maidservants knew Hallie’s secret, none of the Rivenloch clan were exercising extra caution. Someone needed to protect her.

Maneuvering close, he made it his duty to watch over her. In turn, she seemed to be watching over Brand.

To Colban’s pride and chagrin, Brand used Colban’s shield trick to knock the de Ware knight off his feet. Meanwhile, Hallie held off the Nubian knight long enough so Brand could retrieve his shield. Colban in turn protected Hallie from a fierce attack by the Hun descendant.

So intent was Colban on both defending himself and looking out for Hallie that he didn’t at first notice the strange commotion at the far end of the field.

The sound started as a series of startled shrieks and then quickly rolled across the field like thunder as the fighters began bellowing in outrage and confusion. Peering over the heads of the other knights, Colban saw warriors surging rapidly outward in retreat, as if a wild boar had been dropped in their midst.

He turned to locate Hallie. But she’d disappeared.

Scanning the crowd, he spotted her. Rather than fleeing with the others, the intrepid lass was heading straight toward the danger.

“Bloody hell.”

Narrowing his eyes above the oncoming wave of warriors, Colban glimpsed the flash of a claymore. Not a blunted sword meant for a friendly melee. But a killing weapon