Bride of Ice (The Warrior Daughters of Rivenloch #2) - Glynnis Campbell Page 0,38

she snatched the sword from the wall and made a grab for her helm, intending to shove it down over her head to hide her blush. But in her haste, she knocked the helm to the floor. It clanged loudly enough to turn all their heads.

“Hallie. You all right?” one of them asked. “You’re up early.”

Mortified, she swept up her shield and tossed her braid over her shoulder with a cool confidence she didn’t feel. “Just restless. Eager to leave one of you idle sluggards in the dust.”

They laughed at that.

One of the knights nodded toward her weapon. “Are you going to try the claymore then?”

The claymore? In that instant, she suddenly noted the weight of the sword in her grip. The width of the crossguard. The indentations in the hilt from fingers larger than hers.

Shite. Somehow she’d whipped the wrong sword off the wall.

Another knight elbowed the first. “Don’t be ridiculous. ’Tis nigh as tall as she is.”

“Aye,” a third agreed, “and far too heavy for a lass.”

She wasn’t fooled by their taunts for an instant. They knew she couldn’t resist proving them wrong. She might have made a mistake, seizing the Highlander’s sword. But she wasn’t about to back down now. She gave them a grim smile.

“If that wee mouse of a Highlander can handle it,” she boasted, “then ’twill be like a child’s dagger in my hands.”

The knights guffawed at her cocky claim.

“I’ll take that challenge,” one of them called out as he thrust his arms into his cotun.

“Me as well,” another added, plucking his sword from the wall.

“I wager we’d all like to take a crack against a Highland claymore,” a third said.

The rest cheered in agreement.

“Fine,” she said, wondering if her arm would hold out. Even carrying the thing to march Colban through the woods had tired her shoulder. A claymore was a two-handed weapon, heavy and slow. Hallie was accustomed to fighting with speed, not force.

“I’ll meet you on the field,” she said, intending to take a few practice swings before she engaged with an opponent.

“The field?” one of the knights scoffed. “I say we show our Highland hostage what Rivenloch knights are made of, right, lads? Let’s spar beneath the prisoner’s window.”

Hallie’s brows collided. She’d come to the armory to forget about Colban an Curaidh, not to taunt him.

But already the men were urging her on, their eyes full of eager fire.

She could hardly deny them. Having an enemy to intimidate fueled the knights, spurring them on to fiercer battle. Besides, what would she say? That she didn’t want to spar in front of Colban because the idea made her heart flutter?

“Very well,” she conceded drily, arching her brow to add, “but afterward, you’ll pick up your own lopped-off limbs from the courtyard.”

The men roared with laughter at that.

Despite her levity, Hallie had serious reservations about her decision. After all, what message would that send to Colban?

If she fought well with his weapon, defeating her own men, it would prove the superiority of the Highland claymore over the Lowland longsword.

If she fought poorly, it would mean she didn’t deserve her reputation as a fearsome warrior lass, a dangerous foe, an enemy to be feared.

Under the circumstances, Hallie couldn’t help but think she was making a tactical error.

Something had stirred Colban from sleep.

He groaned. His head was still foggy with dreams. Rubbing at one eye and stumbling from the bed in naught but his braies, he made his groggy way toward the garderobe.

As he passed the window, the sound of steel on steel made him frown.

Who was crossing swords at this ungodly hour?

Blinking his eyes to try to clear the cobwebs, he opened the shutters and peered out into the dim light before dawn.

On the ground below, he saw the swirl of Hallie’s tabard.

His eyes widened.

The lass was confronting a pair of giants. Defending herself with his claymore—a two-handed blade that was far too heavy for her. She fell back as the bloody savages attacked her on two fronts.

Then his heart dropped to the pit of his stomach.

Beyond the two brutes, out of the thick morning mist, emerged an entire army of huge, blade-wielding knights.

The castle was under siege.

And Hallie was out there alone.

Colban didn’t think. Or blink. Or hesitate.

He stepped up onto the ledge and leaped from the window into the fray with a bellow of fierce challenge.

The drop was longer than he expected. The landing made his bones shudder. But he barely felt the impact. His sole focus was getting Hallie out