Beyond a Darkened Shore(6)

His eyes narrowed. “No place for a lady either,” he said in heavily accented Gaelic.

I laughed again because he had a point. My smile faded when he charged.

He was quick, I had to give him that. He met every blow of my admittedly half-hearted attacks. But when he knocked my legs out from under me, my amusement disappeared entirely.

He leaped on top of me, kept me pinned to the ground. He slashed my face with his sword, and I tasted blood. Still, I couldn’t bring myself to kill him.

I scanned the bloodied cliff. Where was their leader? I shouldn’t be wasting my time with a boy. If I could take possession of the leader, force him to turn on his own, I’d learned from experience that his men would be so taken by surprise that they were easier to kill. Sometimes it so disturbed them that they turned on the leader himself.

An approaching Northman distracted me from my search. I was running out of time. The man shouted and the boy stiffened, but he didn’t stop trying to cut my throat.

With my left hand, I felt around for one of the stones that littered the cliff. I wouldn’t kill the boy, but I had to stop him. As my arm swung the stone into his skull, my eyes met the Northman who had appeared behind us.

His expression almost stopped me. His features were twisted with panic.

The boy slumped, knocked unconscious. Lucky for him, to my clansmen, he’d appear dead. I might be willing to spare his life, but the others wouldn’t.

I pushed him off me and scrambled to my feet to greet the Northman who now towered over me, his shield bearing the insignia of the skeletal red dragon—the same as the one on the sail. Instead of an axe, he carried a massive claymore. He wasn’t surrounded by his own personal shield guard like most I’d battled, but still, I was sure. The leader had found me.

I held my sword at the ready, and as I tried to reach his mind, I studied him. This Northman was different from the others. Surprise trickled through me as I realized how young he was—perhaps only a year older than I was. He was tall, but it was his lightly muscled form that suggested youth. Beneath the splatters of blood, his face was a handsome one with a straight nose, unmarred by multiple breakings like the other men’s. A strong jaw, full lips.

His ice-blue eyes cut to the boy at my feet. When we both watched the boy’s chest rise, the leader’s attention returned to me. Our eyes locked, and once again, I bore the intense pain as I tried to take his mind.

But my power slammed into a wall, as real as the stones surrounding my father’s castle. I took a step back in surprise. Gritting my teeth, I pushed with my mind. Nothing. He didn’t even blink.

But he did swing his sword.

I brought my own blade up at the last moment. The impact was so jarring I felt it in my bones, the metals of the swords coming together in an earsplitting clatter.

Before I could formulate a plan of attack, he was on me again. His blows were powerful, and yet there was something about the way he wielded his sword—almost a hesitation every time he brought it down upon mine. It was as though he was holding himself back. But why would he do such a thing? Because I was a girl? Or because he’d seen me refuse to kill the boy?

When next he attacked, I dodged and swung my sword, hoping to catch him off balance. He deflected it easily with his own blade. I was by no means a novice swordsman, but it was clear his skill far outshone mine.

I circled him, all the while seeking some way of gaining control of his mind. My every effort was met with an impenetrable wall. His repeated attacks made it impossible to concentrate. Was he toying with me?

Who will stand between these barbarians and my sisters if I fall? I thought. All around me, my clansmen continued to fight. But our limited numbers meant if I didn’t end this soon, we would all die. They’d take the castle and then my sisters. And I’d have let them down—again.

The sudden sharp caw of a crow rang out above us, and the Northman paused, his brows drawing low over his eyes. I took his distraction to my advantage. He was powerful, but was he fast? I feinted left and swung around behind him. My blade slammed down on the chain mail covering his broad back.

It didn’t bring him to his knees, but it did stun him.

I swung my sword, taking advantage of his slow reaction. He parried at the last second. My blade slipped off his sword and nicked his neck. Blood snaked down his throat, and I quickly scanned the ground beneath him. Stones even larger than the one I’d used to knock out the boy were scattered all around us. I threw my sword down and dived for one.

As he bent down to grab me, I snatched a rock and smashed it against his head. He fell heavily with a dull thud upon stone. I retrieved my sword and held it high over my head, poised to keep the Northman down permanently.

But before I could deliver the final blow, something stayed my hand. A silvery voice filled my mind, whispering, Not him. It was the crow’s voice again. It had never been wrong, but still I resisted. Why would it want me to spare my enemy? Did this Northman know what had happened to my father? Was he the reason my clansmen and father had gone to the monastery’s defense? I watched the man’s chest rise and fall, my gaze moving upward to study his face. His cheeks were smooth, and his golden lashes gave him a deceptively innocent appearance. The possibility that my father had been defeated, possibly even killed, made me want to shake the Northman until he woke.

My lip curled. Never mind the crow. I hated this man who’d brought these demons to my doorstep. The world would be better off with one less Northman. My arms trembled, suddenly weak under the weight of my sword as I warred with myself. In sleep, he was no threat, and I was no murderer.