The Knights of Christmas by Suzanne Barclay Read Free Book Online Page B

if it meant you’d leave.”
    â€œWhy is my staying so important?”
    â€œI told you...I had a vision in the Beltane fires this spring. You vanquished the MacGorys and saved the valley.”
    Duncan snorted. “Foolish nonsense. A hope fed by desperation. Doubtless you saw a knight—”
    â€œI saw you.” Her features tightened. “But I do not expect you to believe in me. ’Tis enough that I believe.”
    â€œBut—”
    The ringing of a bell cut off his words.
    â€œMacGorys!” Kara cried, and plunged down the road in the direction of the pass with Duncan close behind.
    A huge pile of rocks sixty feet high blocked the exit from the valley. Kara wheeled around a huge boulder and sprinted along the narrow switchback trail that led up the face of the mountain. Two men waited for them on the plateau at the top. They wore conical helmets and the Scottish leine croich, a thigh-length quilted coat. It offered less protection than Duncan’s mail, but made them quicker, more agile fighters.
    â€œIs it MacGorys, Eoin?” Kara asked.
    â€œAye.” The man was thickly built, his weathered face folded into a fierce scowl. “They’re sneaking up on a party of travelers riding along the river road. Bloody fools.”
    â€œMerchants?” Kara asked.
    â€œNay, priests by the look. Bloody fools,” Eoin repeated.
    Duncan frowned. “Surely they’d not attack a priest.”
    Eoin looked him up and down, then sniffed. “MacGorys are a wee bit short on chivalry. They’d kill their own mothers.”
    â€œHave they attacked?” Kara asked.
    Â 
    â€œNot yet, but we saw those heathen MacGorys crawling about in the long grass.” Eoin spun around as a motley herd charged up the trail. “Ah, here come the rest of the lads.”
    Some of the lads were bent and gray, others not yet old enough to sprout a beard. There were even a few women.
    â€œWhere are your fighters?” Duncan exclaimed.
    â€œWe’re all that’s left,” replied a toothless old man. “But we’re still strong enough to give those MacGorys a drubbing.”
    Kara was frowning, her eyes filled with pain, but she straightened her spine and looked at Eoin. “Let us see what those fiends are about.”
    â€œWait,” Duncan called, but he was left in the dust as the warriors of Gleanedin disappeared into a tunnel to his right. Swearing under his breath, Duncan went after them. The darkness pressed all around him, his eyes ached from trying to pierce the shroud. Then his mount rounded a bend and he saw a square of light beckoning.
    When he emerged, he found himself on a high cliff. The Gleanedins were gathered at its edge, studying the broad plain that lay between the mountains and the distant Lowther Hills. The river flowed past the cliff, bordered on the far side by a thick stand of trees. From this vantage point, Duncan saw immediately the natural defenses of which Kara had boasted.
    There was only one place shallow enough to ford the river, only one tiny trail leading up the sheer face of the cliffs. Both lay in the shadow of this plateau. A few bowmen could easily pick off any attackers brave enough, or stupid enough, to attempt an assault on Edin Valley.
    â€œEoin, is there a guard posted here at all times?” Duncan asked. At Eoin’s nod, he went on to ask about numbers, rotations and means of summoning reinforcements.
    Eoin’s answers were clipped, but the frost left his voice as he warmed to the subject and to Duncan. “We twice beat back the MacGorys. The third time, they fashioned big hide shields and came at us bunched together so our arrows bounced off them.” He grinned wolfishly. “But we gave them such a hot welcome they’ve not been back.” He pointed to a wedge of scorched earth that flowed down the mountain and bisected the trail. “Poured grease down yon slope, we did, and set it