Moon Burning - By Lucy Monroe Page 0,45
nothing else in front of the man Connor.
Circin asked the man, “Are there any others in on this cowardly plot to kill Earc?”
“Nay. Rowland could not risk going to his Chrechte friends and being discovered when one of them did not show for the challenge.”
Far too intent on the challenge happening below them, Sabrine did not comment. She already knew there were no others since Verica had continued to scan the forest while Sabrine made her way to the man with the bow.
Barr instructed the Chrechte to create a circle around the challengers, further hindering any plot the former laird had hatched in his puling brain. He hoped Circin would be able to find any cohort Rowland had convinced to help him, but Barr’s wolf was on full alert all the same.
He commanded silence among the witnesses, so that should a twig break, he would hear it.
He measured the onlookers with his gaze. “You have been enjoined to come here to witness the challenge fight between Earc and Rowland.”
“You would pit a younger warrior against our former laird?” one of the older men asked with anger.
“If he survives the challenge, I’ll tear his throat out myself for crimes committed against those under his protection.”
Everyone in the clearing went as silent as he desired at his promise.
He found it interesting to note that no one stepped forward to protest the man’s innocence, but not surprising. A man did not start with murder and rape. Barr didn’t doubt that Rowland had been abusing his position within the pack for as long as he’d held it.
Maybe even before it had been officially his.
Rowland, who had come into the clearing looking smug, was starting to sweat. He had spent the time since arriving in the clearing talking to some of his old cronies, sending darting glances to the north. His conceited arrogance was just starting to show wear like a plaid made of inferior weave. Rowland looked off into the distance once again and probably saw exactly what Barr did at the same moment.
Wearing a man’s plaid and holding a sword, Sabrine stood in front of a rock outcropping that would make ideal cover for a bowman. The top of Circin’s head could be seen behind her.
She raised her arm in a typical warrior’s sign that all was well. Barr found himself biting back a laugh, though his mind told him he should be furious. Anger that she had disregarded his instructions warred with a sense of pride that the magnificent woman was his mate. What she thought she was doing dressed as a warrior and carrying a sword, he could not begin to guess, but it was enough to send fire through his loins.
The foul word that came out of Rowland’s mouth at that moment tipped Barr’s feelings toward the pride.
“You will fight my second,” he promised the honor-less cur.
Rowland spun away, giving his former pack something that was probably supposed to be a look of entreaty. It didn’t work well on the man’s contemptuous features.
“Will none of my brothers step forward to fight this challenge for your old laird?” His emphasis on the word old made Barr roll his eyes.
Some of the Chrechte winced, but not one of them looked ready to fall on his sword for the old bastard.
Earc stripped off his plaid, tossing it aside. As Chrechte law allowed for a wolf who was not yet in control of his change, he held his dagger in his dominant hand.
Rowland eyed it with disdain. “What do you plan to do with that, boy? You’ll not be able to hold it once you shift.”
“I only shift at the full moon,” Earc said, no shame in his voice.
Rowland’s grimace could hardly be called a smile, but the man was pleased at the news. No doubt. Evil satisfaction glowed in his eyes.
Fool.
Perhaps he had not trained his Chrechte warriors to fight their brethren in changed form, but Talorc had the Sinclairs. He’d made sure every soldier in his clan could hold his own against a Chrechte in battle. And the Chrechte were all drilled until they could fight another wolf in shifted form or not. Earc had never been bested, except by Talorc, Niall or Barr.
Since no other warrior had ever bested them, either, that did not imply any kind of weakness in Earc’s fighting ability.
In the blink of an eye, Rowland had shifted into wolf form and leapt toward Earc without warning. No wonder so many feared him in wolf form. Rowland was