Bride of Ice (The Warrior Daughters of Rivenloch #2) - Glynnis Campbell Page 0,13
they reached the castle wall, Sir Rauve himself had arrived to open the palisade gate. By the look of him, he hadn’t slept a wink. And he minced no words as he ushered them in.
“Where are the others?” he growled.
“Captive,” she replied.
He bit out a curse. “And this one?” He glowered at the Highlander.
“Leverage,” she said.
Rauve grunted. “Who is he?”
“No one,” the Highlander answered before she could reply.
She shook her head. “He’s the usurper’s right hand man.”
“I tell ye, I’m nobody,” he insisted. “Ye’re goin’ to a lot o’ trouble for naught.”
She and Rauve exchanged a knowing look. They’d heard that line of reasoning before from captives.
Rauve gave him a threatening smile. “’Tis no trouble, I assure you.”
To her surprise, the Highlander didn’t cower in the least.
“I may owe my allegiance to Morgan Mor mac Giric,” he told Rauve, “but I’m not valuable to him. He won’t hesitate to sacrifice me, should it come to that.”
He sounded quite reasonable. He sounded like he was telling the truth. But she wasn’t fooled.
“Don’t be ridiculous,” she said smoothly. “I saw how distraught your laird was, thinking Feiyan had killed you.”
“What? Feiyan tried to kill you?” Rauve blinked at the man. “And failed?” He regarded the captive with new respect.
“’Tisn’t the point, Rauve,” she said. “Besides, if she’d meant to kill him, he’d be dead.”
Rauve narrowed his eyes pointedly at the man’s face, riddled with cuts and bruises. “Bloody hell, Hallie. I thought ’twas a mission of peace.”
Before Hallie could explain, the prisoner hastened to say, “No lass gave me these injuries, I assure ye.”
It must chafe at his pride to be taken captive by a mere lass. Men always expected women to be frail and powerless.
But his next words surprised her.
“These were given to me by the man from whom ye seek ransom.” He cast his eyes down in shame. “So ye see how…valuable…I am to him.”
Hallie’s throat caught. Was it true? Had Morgan Mor mac Giric inflicted this damage?
She glanced at Rauve. His brow had darkened. Such abuse from one’s laird was unconscionable.
Against her will, she began to feel sorry for the man.
Was he telling the truth? Was he as invaluable and dispensable as he believed? Had she made a mistake in taking a hostage who was worthless?
She studied his face. Surely he wasn’t worthless. Not only was he a formidable warrior. He was bright. Honorable. Dedicated. Of course he was valuable. How could he not be?
He must be lying to her. Yet she’d never she seen a man look so guileless. Beneath brows creased in an earnest frown, his eyes shone with sincerity.
She challenged him with her stare. Waiting for him to blink. Waiting for his mask of honesty to crack. For his gaze to slip away and reveal his lie.
It never did.
Indeed, she began to feel discomfited by the steady gaze he returned. Her cheeks grew hot. Her heart beat rapidly. She felt as if she were slipping into the deep, dark sea of his eyes.
Then, before she could either break him or drown in his gaze from the attempt, the unthinkable happened.
From the distant slope behind her came a sweet, musical squeal of delight. “Hallie!”
Chapter 7
It required all of Colban’s willpower not to look away. Staring into the Valkyrie’s eyes was more demanding than he imagined.
But he dared not waver, lest she doubt his words and think him a liar.
So he fixed his forthright gaze on her, while her eyes of crystal blue ice pierced his soul and probed the darkest recesses of his heart.
Who would have surrendered first, he’d never know. Their contest of wills was cut short by a feminine cry in the distance.
The Valkyrie flinched at the sound.
Behind him, the newcomer tripped merrily down the rise, crying, “Is it him, Hallie? Is it The One?”
Colban saw Hallie’s jaw tighten.
The new arrival appeared to be a younger version of Hallie. A lass on the verge of womanhood, she was lanky, too tall for her kirtle. She had a snow-blonde braid and large blue eyes.
The hulking bear of a guard moved to block Colban’s view of the lass, snarling, “Isabel! Go back to the keep.”
Undaunted by his growls, Isabel replied, “Pah! You’re not my laird.”
“What do you want?” Hallie said with cold warning.
“I was watching you from the parapets,” she said, trying to peer around Rauve’s massive bulk. Then she gushed, “’Tis him, isn’t it? You’ve finally found The One. I knew it. He’s tall and handsome and… Oh, Hallie, I’m so happy for you.”