around.
There was no help for it. Tavish had to use Lann Dhearg. He hefted the sword, and red-orange flame started at the base, licking its way upward as the other man’s eyes widened. Tavish launched, and their swords clashed.
The other man was a good swordsman. They thrust and parried, circling each other several times before Tavish knocked the other man’s blade away. It would be too easy to finish him, but his body would go up in flames and the stable would catch fire.
Instead, Tavish threw Lann Dhearg aside and dove for the other man’s sword. The villain did the same, and they both got there at the same time, hitting the ground on top of the sword.
They tussled over the weapon, but the villain got his hand around it first. It was too big and bulky to wield as they tangled together, but he brought the pommel down hard against Tavish’s temple. Pain exploded in his head, but he ignored it as he continued to fight for the weapon.
Tavish wrapped his hand around the man’s wrist and squeezed. The villain put his hand on Tavish’s neck, his fingers digging into the flesh and threatening Tavish’s airway. Tavish rolled and pushed the man’s hand away as his opponent tried desperately to use the sword.
The light from the lanterns glinted off something else to Tavish’s left. The knife he’d cast aside.
Tavish released the villain’s wrist and rolled. He reached out, then closed his fingers around the knife and picked it up. The man was already on his knees, his eyes intent, his lip curled. Unsheathing the dagger, Tavish threw it at the man, catching him just below his collarbone. Without hesitation, Tavish grabbed the sword from the man and drove the blade into his gut.
Chest heaving, Tavish wiped at the blood streaming down the side of his face. He got to his feet, sweat trickling down his back despite the frigid air.
He swept up Lann Dhearg and rushed deeper into the stable in search of more of the miscreants and for the grooms. These men had to be from the Order of the Round Table.
Another lantern hung at this end of the building. Its light illuminated the pair of grooms tied together in a heap in an unused stall, both unconscious.
“Damn,” he muttered. He’d been hoping to use their help. After ensuring there were no more villains, Tavish quickly untied their bonds, then raced back to the inn while he madly tried to come up with a plan.
Two villains in the stables. How many inside? One had come into Elspeth’s room, but there had to be more.
Clinging to the shadows along the outside of the inn, Tavish made his way to the first window into the common room. He crouched low and peered in through the corner.
It seemed everyone had been gathered—they sat at tables while six men armed with guns and swords encircled them. Tavish noted Balthazar’s knitted cap atop his bald head as well as the fiery curls of his daughter. Then his breath caught as he saw Elspeth, also seated at their table along with her aunt.
Tavish no longer felt the cold on his feet, but his blood turned to ice as a tall blond man started toward her. She got up and avoided him, going to the fireplace, where she stood beside another man. His close-cropped beard was familiar…Tavish recognized him from earlier in the day when he’d gone to visit Kerr. He’d passed the man on his way.
That made nine—the two in the stable and seven in the common room. But were there more anywhere else?
How he wished he could hear what they were saying. Then the man hit Elspeth across the mouth. Tavish leapt up, Lann Dhearg tight in his grip, as fury tore through him.
Reason won out. If he charged inside now, he would lose. He counted seven men, most with pistols. He needed to split them up somehow so he could even the numbers.
He watched as the man who’d hit Elspeth—and would surely pay for it before the night was finished—and two others took her and Carrie toward the back of the inn. Toward Carrie’s chamber.
That left four men. Forming a plan, he ran around to the back of the inn to the kitchen door, which was, as expected, locked. “Had to try,” he muttered.
Using Lann Dhearg’s pommel, he broke through the window and quickly scrambled inside, cutting his arm on a shard of glass. The door from the common room swung open