Bride of Ice (The Warrior Daughters of Rivenloch #2) - Glynnis Campbell Page 0,39
of danger. He could deal with his own injuries later.
The two giants stood frozen with shock. In that instant, he tore his claymore from Hallie’s hands and set her behind him.
“Go!” he commanded.
There was no time to see if she’d obeyed.
Colban clenched his fists around the familiar weapon.
He’d never survive. He knew that. He had no targe, no cotun, no chain mail. Hell, he wasn’t even wearing his boots. But maybe he could buy Hallie time to escape.
He blew out a bracing breath. Set his jaw. Then turned to face the pair of towering foes and the massive army behind them.
Chapter 16
Hallie was too stunned to move.
In one moment she’d been playfully sparring with two of her knights.
In the next, like a dark, avenging angel, wearing naught but his braies, the reckless Highlander had swooped down out of nowhere. He’d reclaimed his weapon from her. Shoved her away like a bothersome pup. And was now taking over her fight.
How dared he?
How had he?
The drop from the window had to be ten yards. Only a fool would attempt it.
Yet here he was. He’d landed on his feet. By some miracle, he seemed uninjured. But judging by the fierce look in his eye, he intended to inflict some injuries of his own.
“Come on!” he shouted in invitation, brandishing his claymore.
The two knights accepted his challenge. They charged at him with their swords flashing.
Twisting his shoulders with violent force, Colban blocked the first blade with his own. The second he caught at the hilt, sending it sailing across the courtyard. Then, returning with a hard downward chop at the first sword, he broke the blade in half.
Hallie’s mouth dropped open.
Having effectively disarmed both knights in the blink of an eye, the Highlander cast a quick glance over his shoulder.
“Go, Hallie! Run! I’ll hold them off!”
Still reeling at how quickly he’d dispatched her knights, she whipped the helm off her head.
Hold them off? What the bloody hell did that mean?
The Rivenloch knights seemed just as mystified.
But when Colban charged forward—his brows lowered in grim determination and his claymore raised in challenge—there was naught they could do but respond.
The Rivenloch knights took up their weapons. And Hallie watched, slack-jawed, as the half-naked Highlander swiftly disarmed three more of them.
One sword he wrenched away by brute force with his left hand.
One he destroyed with a powerful hack of his claymore.
And one he removed with a sweep of his blade that stripped the man’s gauntlet off as well, sending the sword flying in its grip.
After that, all chaos broke loose.
Like a roiling sea, the Rivenloch knights surged forward in waves. Their chain mail shivered. Their sabatons pounded the sod. Their swords glinted with the cold dawn’s light. Sparks and curses and fists flew.
Hallie’s heart pounded as awe and dread flooded her veins in equal measure.
Did the brazen hostage think he could take on the whole fighting force of Rivenloch? Surely he realized a company of armored knights could cut his unprotected body into minced meat.
Yet he battled like a raging beast. Lunging and slashing at them with the ferocity of a cornered boar. Desperate. Powerful. Fearless.
Was he mad? Was this some reckless and misguided attempt to escape? Did he honestly believe he could defeat her entire army?
Or was it a mission of suicide? Did he intend to sacrifice himself as a pawn to destroy her leverage against his laird?
Whatever the truth, there was one rule of warfare Hallie knew she dared not break.
Never kill a hostage.
Over the cacophony of scraping steel, clanking armor, grunts of pain, and roars of challenge, she cried in command, “Take him alive!”
The Rivenloch knights instantly tempered their attack. Chivalry and fighting fairly were ingrained in the disciplined warriors. They knew the hostage’s worth. They would take him alive.
Colban raged against the surging sea of knights until they completely surrounded him. Until he was able to stay on his feet only by force of will.
It took a dozen men to subdue him. Half of them stole up behind him while the rest pressed him back with a wall of shields. But they finally seized him by the arms. Pried the claymore from his steely fists. And wrestled him to the ground.
Outnumbered, overpowered, and pinned by a dozen sword points, Colban at last had to admit defeat.
His breath came in burning gasps. Hot fear and fury pulsed through his veins. And now he began to feel the throbbing in his ankle where he’d twisted it in his wild leap from the window.