The Warrior Bride by Lois Greiman Read Free Book Online

Munros?”
    There was silence for a moment, so she rambled on, and perhaps the panic in her tone wasn’t altogether fictionalized. “So you’ve heard of them! They are my kindred and they’ll not take it kindly if I do not return.”
    “You’re a Munro.”
    “Aye. I- ”
    “‘Us me lucky day then, for I’ve not yet killed one of the warrior clan.”
    “Is that what you want?” she asked, and turned desperately to scan the faces that surrounded her. “What will do you more good, me own death or a fine mount to ride or barter?”
    “Methinks we can ‘ ave both,” said one dark fellow.
    He was unshaven and squat and limped as he stepped nearer.
    “Not true,” she said, and turned jerkily back toward toothless. “Here. See this. Come,” she called, raising her voice. It trembled again. “Knight Star, come hither.”
    Nothing happened, but then there came a rustle in the woods. The black stepped into view. His reins were dragging, and for a moment he paused as he stepped on one, but then he bobbed his head and came forward like a well-trained hound.
    “Halt,” she said, and her voice sounded stronger as Knight stopped and she turned her attention back to Toothless. “Let me go and he is yours.”
    The brigand grinned. It was not a pretty sight. “Call him over,” he ordered.
    “Nay,” she said, and Toothless lifted his dirk. “Call him or-”
    “Not until you vow to set me free.”
    “Vow?” Someone chuckled behind her. The sound shivered up her spine. “Aye, give the fancy lord your vow, Kirk.”
    Toothless grinned as he tightened his grip on his knife and stepped forward. “Aye, that’s what I’ll do lads, I’ll-”
    But in that moment Hunter shrieked. The sound echoed like a falcon’s cry in the woods. Knight lunged forward. Toothless spun toward the beast, but too late. The stallion struck him with one pistoning hoof. The brigand went down screaming. Men scattered as the stallion slid to a halt before her. She made a dive for the saddle, but in that instant an arm encircled her throat, dragging her backward. She felt a blade against her neck and heard a whispered threat, but she wasted not a moment. Instead, she swung her feet up against Knight’s ribs and shoved with all her might.
    Her captor stumbled backward, then tripped and went down. For a moment his grip loosened on her windpipe. Snatching her dirk from the scabbard at her waist, she twisted wildly about. He died in an instant.
    She scrambled to her feet, searching desperately for
    Knight, but he’d already been mounted by another. She shifted her gaze to the others who stood before her. There was death in their eyes.
    She lifted her bloody blade. “Come on then!” she hissed.
    There was a moment of quiet, then screams burst from them and they came, swords drawn.
    She kicked the first one aside and ducked the second, but the third was there immediately. She parried and twisted away. Pain sliced across her back, knocking her to her knees.
    Death thundered up. She heard the boom of its hooves and raised her face to snarl at it. The rider bent toward her. His sword hissed through the air and then… like a fallen leaf, it dropped to the ground in front of her.
    She tried to reach for it but her arm would not react.
    Someone shrieked. She twisted about, ready to fight as best she could, but chaos had erupted about her, and as sudden as death, the men lay sprawled on the trampled bracken.
    “Hunter.”
    Someone spoke. She turned in bewilderment, and there, not an arm’s length from her, was Lachlan MacGowan.
    “You are injured.”
    She struggled to rise. “Where is he?”
    He pressed her back down. “Stay put until I see to your wound.”
    “Where is he?”
    “Calm yourself. He is dead.”
    “Nay,” she muttered, and found her feet despite his efforts to keep her down.
    “Steady, lass. They are all dead.”
    “‘Tis not true. Knight would not-”
    “Night?” he said, but in that moment she felt a warm draft on her