Bride of Ice (The Warrior Daughters of Rivenloch #2) - Glynnis Campbell Page 0,55
Hallie glimpsed up to see Colban’s face at the window, her heart skipped a beat. Her face warmed. Her breath grew shallow. Sparks of lust ignited her senses.
When it came to the Highlander, it seemed, as with Greek fire, there was no way to extinguish the persistent flames of desire.
What the devil was going on? Colin had just polished off his pea and parsnip pottage when the castle folk began to assemble below his window. A square area was roped off in the middle of the courtyard. To one side was a folded screen. A small raised platform was located in the midst of the square, with an upright wooden beam lodged in its center.
He hoped they weren’t setting up a whipping or an execution. He had little taste for that sort of bloodthirsty display. It was one thing to kill a man in fair combat. And it was fair and just to execute a man for his sins. But he didn’t approve of making a spectacle of punishment, of seeking enjoyment from the suffering of others.
Besides, he’d had enough suffering for one day, considering his humiliating defeat at the hands of that crafty Valkyrie.
There she was now, being seated at the center of the crowd. Despite his irritation at being outwitted, his heart leaped at the sight of her. Whatever mischief she’d perpetrated upon him, she remained as lovely as winter snow, as alluring as a summer loch.
Still, it stung to realize how gullible he’d been. How easily she’d deceived him. He’d actually believed that she too was overcome with lust. That she was drowning in the depths of desire beside him. That the same force of attraction pulling at his heart and shattering his thoughts affected them both.
He supposed he had to admire her skills. That level of deception was probably useful in combat. And it did amuse him to try to determine exactly when she’d lifted the notebook from him. While they were kissing? Or while she had her hand wrapped around his…
“Sir Colban an Curaidh!”
Startled from his musings, Colban looked down to see Isabel, gowned like a princess, gesturing up at him with one graceful arm.
“’Tis in your honor we present this entertainment!”
God’s blood. His honor? Oh aye. He’d all but forgotten about his heroics of the morn. They seemed to pale in comparison to the humiliation he’d endured since. Nonetheless, with all eyes on him, he waved back. At least the clan wasn’t planning to torture anyone.
Isabel turned to address the crowd in dramatic tones. “I bring you a tale of true love and loyalty. Of unmatched chivalry and noble sacrifice. A tale with fierce warriors, lovely maidens, magical enchantment, and a fire-breathing dragon.”
All the children gasped in awe at that.
“But first we shall hear a stirring ballade from Boniface,” she finished as a man armed with a lute came forward.
What followed was an excruciating and highly romanticized account of Colban’s leap from the window and his ensuing battle. By the end of the performance, Colban decided they had decided to torture someone. His ears burned, and his smile of gratitude strained the corners of his mouth.
Isabel then announced Agile Giles, a lad in tattered clothing who could juggle four hen’s eggs in various manners without breaking a single one.
A white-haired blind woman swathed in colorful scarves was introduced as Sofia the Seer. She waved her hands about wildly, summoning various people in the crowd to come forward so she could touch their sleeve and tell them what their future held.
She foretold wealth for a bright-eyed lad, two dead sheep for an old man, another babe for Rauve in the summer, and victory for a knight in the spring tournament.
Finally she lifted her finger to Colban. “You. Champion.”
Colban scowled. He didn’t want to have his destiny foretold. He didn’t believe in such drivel.
“Throw down an article of your clothing.”
One of Isabel’s bolder friends squealed, “Throw down all of them!” A spate of girlish giggles followed.
Colban wanted to withdraw from the window. But everyone was staring expectantly at him now. Gellir. Brand. Isabel. Hallie. He supposed it would be easier to comply and dispense with this nonsense.
He didn’t have any spare clothing. And he wasn’t about to tear a sleeve off his only leine. But since his foot was bandaged at the moment, he supposed he didn’t need his boot.
“Ye’ll return this, aye?” he called down, garnering laughter from the clan.
He tossed it onto the green, not far from where he’d landed this morn. A man