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.”“I’m none so daft as that,” Comyn retorted.“I should be asking what mischief ye’ve been up to, should I no? I didna ken that ye’d returned.”“Then you must have been elsewhere when we did,” Fin said.Testing the ground beneath his bare feet, he noted grimly that they would have scant room to maneuver.“We made no secret of it.”He heard the dog growl low in its throat and hoped that Cat could control it.He did not want to see Boreas spitted on the other man’s sword.Nor did he want the dog to interfere with him.But the growling ceased, and Comyn leaped forward.Parrying his first sweeping stroke, Fin focused on the next one, preferring to let Comyn tire himself while giving Catriona time to get well away.Catriona watched the two men long enough to be sure that Fin was in no immediate danger.Unless she was much mistaken, though, he was letting Rory Comyn lead the swordfight, choosing only to defend himself.She had watched her brothers practice their swordsmanship often and easily recognized James’s chief defense against Ivor.But she had understood Boreas’s growl if Fin had not.That Rory would be walking alone had seemed odd to her at once.Hoping that whoever was in the woods where they dipped near the trail ahead was more interested in the swordsmen than in her, she eased her way up the hillside, taking care to keep her wet skirt from catching on every branch of shrubbery she passed.As the moon rose, its light increased.It would not be full but the sort the Scots called an aval moon, because it was the shape of a pregnant woman’s belly.She was grateful for the light but hoped that Boreas’s silence meant that no one lay in wait ahead of her and not that he was still obeying her earlier command for quiet.Confident that he would keep her from walking into danger, she moved with more speed.In the woods, enough moonlight pierced the canopy to let her find her way, but knowing that an ally of Comyn’s stood somewhere ahead, she took care to make no avoidable noise.Passing a deadfall, she saw a stout branch that might serve as a club, picked it up, and then touched the hilt of her dirk to be sure that she could find it quickly if she needed it.Holding the club firmly, she listened to the clanging swords on the trail as she moved on, reassured by the even rhythm of their clashing.Then she saw him, a lone shadowy figure standing by a tree with his back to her, watching the fight.Amazed that he seemed unaware of her presence, she saw the reason when he held a bow out near his right hip and nocked an arrow to its string.The shape of bow and arrow against the moonlit water made his intent unmistakable.Signing to Boreas to stay behind her, she moved as swiftly as she dared.When the archer straightened away from the tree, raised the bow, and drew the bowstring to his cheek, Catriona gripped the club tightly in both hands and struck his head as hard as she could.He dropped at her feet with no more sound than a dull thud and a hushing of leaves.The moment that she’d struck, a voice deep in her mind had murmured that he might be one of theirs.A surge of relief engulfed her to see that he was not.He was dead or unconscious, the bow and arrow lying half under him.Signing to Boreas to guard the villain, she turned to watch the swordsmen.Fin looked tired, as he ought to be, she thought.She remembered his so recently tender feet and was sure that after being in the water so long, they must have been as numb as hers were.Hers were leather tough, though.His still were not.On the other hand, the cold did not seem to bother him, and Ivor was the same.Ivor had only to see sunlight to bare his torso and bask in it.Fin looked as if he were handling Rory as deftly as he had before.Then he stumbled, and Rory drove his sword at him.As Catriona gasped, Fin deflected the murderous blade and recovered his balance, but she had seen enough.Looking warily at her victim and seeing that he was as still as a man could be, and that Boreas was watching him closely, she pulled the bow out from under him and yanked the arrow from beneath his elbow.Then, moving prudently away, she watched the two swordsmen on the trail.Neither man’s movements were as agile as they had been before, but although she hoped that Fin would soon pick up the pace and go on the offensive, he did not.He stumbled again, and Comyn leaped forward.Again, Fin deflected the blow and recovered.Catriona nocked the arrow to the bowstring and prepared to draw.She was no highly skilled archer, but Ivor had taught her, just as he had taught her to use her dirk.Taking her stance, she drew the bowstring back far enough to make sure that she could.Assured that, although it was not an easy pull, it was possible, she took aim at a point in the shrubbery some yards to the left of the two swordsmen, waited until they danced farther apart on the path, and let fly.To her shock, just as she did, Comyn leaped to the hillside above Fin, turned to attack again, and the arrow struck right between them.Both men started at the sight of it, but Fin recovered faster.With an upswing of his sword and a flick of his wrist, he sent Comyn’s sword spinning up and over his own head and back toward the loch, where it made a large and satisfactory splash.Comyn roared toward the woods, “Ye daft bastard! Ye nearly killed me!”That was all he said, though, before Fin’s fist connected with his chin and he collapsed much the same way that the man lying a few feet from Catriona had.Tadhg’s quiet voice from behind startled her nearly out of her skin: “Sakes, m’lady,” he said, “ye missed the villain.He’d ha’ looked better wi’ your arrow through his lugs!”Fin crouched low, waiting for the hidden archer to reveal himself.When four brawny figures stepped into the moonlight from the forest shadows, he felt the same sense of fatalism he had felt at Perth upon realizing that he was alone against four more Clan Chattan men.Rory Comyn still lay where he had fallen.As Fin set himself he saw that the others did not.Then Tadhg and Catriona walked out of the woods behind them, and Boreas loped toward him [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]