The Scot's Quest - Keira Montclair Page 0,33

the Grant cousins.

Derric took a swing that Grant easily blocked, parrying it so powerfully it nearly sent him into the air. But he wouldn’t give in so easily.

Many of the other men had stopped their own practicing to watch, but Connor ordered, “Keep them back, Alick. They’re not to be close enough to overhear our conversation.”

Alick followed his uncle’s instructions, moving the onlookers back. Derric had an odd feeling that the chieftain was playing with him, just keeping the contest going until he had the chance to see if Derric had any skills at all.

This was a test.

He had every intention to rise to the occasion.

Next to Connor Grant, he had very little to offer, but he gave it his all, strictly because the man was Dyna’s sire. He hated to admit it, but he wished to impress the man for Dyna’s sake, and his sword skills were all he had to offer as proof of his worth. What more was there for a traveling camp follower of Robert the Bruce? You fought well or you weren’t valued.

He’d parried with Alick for quite a while before taking on the chieftain, having no idea he’d be called to perform against the Grant, and his shoulders began to ache from the onslaught. He did his best to hide his pain, continuing to hold his own against the legendary swordsman opposite him.

They didn’t battle for long before Connor let loose his strongest blows, driving Derric backward with the onslaught, barely able to stop the powerful thrusts until he tripped and fell on his backside, losing his grip on his sword and dropping it to the ground.

Connor Grant stood over him, settling the tip of his sword a bit away from his throat. He bent over Derric and said, “My thanks for bringing Dyna home, but you’d be wise to remember whose daughter you tarry with once she’s hale.”

Derric gave him a brief nod, trying not to focus on the sword point that was uncomfortably close to his throat. He’d been threatened by her cousins, her grandfather, and now her father.

He shouldn’t be surprised, but he was. Connor tossed his sword to the ground, then offered him a boost to his feet, the man barely breathing any faster than he would be if he were eating his dinner. When Derric was standing in front of him, Connor asked, “Do you have any intentions toward my daughter?”

Derric lied his arse off and shook his head. “We’re friends. I fought with the four cousins in Glasgow, and Els is married to my sister. ’Tis no more, no less.”

Bloody hell, but he’d just lied to the toughest swordsman of all the Scots.

He was a dead man.

Chapter Eleven

Later, Derric requested a visit with Dyna, and her mother escorted him up to see her. She did not move once the whole time he was there, although it was admittedly just a few minutes.

“I don’t wish to disturb her,” he said to Sela Grant, his eyes locked on Dyna’s prone body, her even breathing telling him she was healing simply because it was calmer and more rhythmic than it had been the previous day. “You have spoken with her?”

“Aye, she’s awakened. Actually ate porridge this morn, but her head was still paining her.”

He stayed for a few minutes longer and then took his leave, fighting the urge to lean over and plant a soft kiss on her forehead. Her mother had said little, though her gaze had taken in everything he did. He knew where Dyna had gotten her willowy shape, her pale hair, and her ice blue eyes. She looked exactly like her mother. The sheer contrast of Connor, dark-haired and huge, and Sela Grant, willowy and white-haired, standing next to each other had to be arresting. He understood why they were leaders of their clan.

Last eve, Connor had given him leave to sleep in the chamber at the end of the great hall, apparently Alex Grant’s chamber. Alick had led him to it the previous night, pointing to the small bed to the side rather than the behemoth in the center of the room. “This one’s yours. No one sleeps in Grandsire’s bed.”

He returned to the chamber and removed his tunic and his boots and fell onto the bed. The swordplay had exhausted him enough that he was asleep in seconds.

He only slept for half the night before he was awakened by a woman’s wild screams. The torturous sounds were so awful that he couldn’t imagine what would