The Scot's Pursuit - Keira Montclair Page 0,39
for a few hours, but we’ll hunt you down.”
“The terms are simple. Bring Alex Grant to Glasgow in two days. Then we’ll release your mistress.”
“King Edward will pay for this. I don’t care who he is, we Scots don’t answer to him any longer. We have our own king.”
“You’re right about that. You don’t answer to him any longer.” The first man chuckled as he tugged on Kyla’s arm and dragged her through the gates. “King Edward is not our leader.”
Kyla couldn’t hide her surprise at this declaration. If not Edward, then who?
The leader said, “Edward is dead. Our leader is his son, King Edward II.”
***
Chrissa smiled with satisfaction. She’d snuck out past the guards at the gate again. She couldn’t help but snicker about how she’d pulled it off this time. One of Connor’s young lads, Morgan, loved to be the center of attention. She’d promised her cousin she’d steal three pastries for him from the kitchens that night if he would fall down in the middle of the courtyard screaming.
The lad had screamed so loudly that no one had even glanced at Chrissa’s horse as she’d led the beast to the gates, running alongside so as not to be noticed. She’d gotten out without any trouble at all since the gates were still open. Unless there were English in the area, the Grants kept their gates open until nightfall. Why, she’d have to get Morgan an extra pastry for that.
Now she mounted her horse and galloped across the meadow, the mountains off in the distance and the wind in her hair, just as she loved it. As she approached the archery field, she slowed her horse to make sure she was alone. Not seeing anyone in the immediate area, she brought her horse to a spot where he could nibble on the grasses, jumped off his back, and grabbed her bow.
But she didn’t have a chance to reach for an arrow before two men dropped out of a nearby tree and grabbed her, one covering her mouth with his hand while the other held her arm.
“Hold still and we’ll not harm you.”
Finally, an adventure of her own. She feigned fear, shaking a wee bit as she nodded her agreement, acting the part of a scared lassie. The second they let their guards down and relaxed their hold on her, she sprang into action.
She bit one’s hand and kicked the other in the bollocks while the first one howled in pain. She ran to her horse, trying to get to an arrow, but she didn’t make it. One of them grabbed her by the hair, tugging her backward, but she spun around swinging, her nails slashing across his cheeks and his neck.
“Ow, you wee bitch! Ned, you take her.”
“Fine. If you can’t handle a wee ten-year-old lass, I’ll see if I can,” he answered, rolling his eyes. Ned grabbed at her and she jumped into action again.
She bit his arm and used her fist to punch his bollocks as hard as she could. When he doubled over, she drawled, “How are you doing handling the ten-year-old lass? And I’m two and ten, you hedge-born bastard.”
The first one laughed. “Got you, didn’t she, Ned?”
“Shut your mouth, Lewis. Just hold her down while I massage my bollocks.”
“They sure aren’t verra big,” she yelled at Lewis as if she understood what she meant. She’d heard the kitchen lasses talking the other day about the size of a man’s private parts. They’d boasted about whose man had the biggest, so she’d guessed it would be an insult to tell a man his parts were small.
The man laughed. “Lass, stop trying to impress us and keep still. Now be quiet and we’ll let you go in about a half hour. Understood? We don’t need to hurt you…”
“You didn’t hurt me. I hurt both of you, you yellow-bellied pignuts.” She’d heard Uncle Loki use something similar to that name before, and she’d been waiting for an excuse to use it.
One slapped her hard across the face, but she retaliated quickly by kicking him hard in the shins. “Ow. You really make it hard for me not to wallop you, you ornery witch. Just stand there and keep your hands to yourself. As soon as our friends have the other captive, we’ll let you go.”
Who was he talking about? Her mind spun with a dozen different possibilities, but she already knew the answer in her heart. Her mother.
“Who are you after?” she asked anyway. It wouldn’t