Page 4 of A Rogue and a Noble Lass

“Aye, but what ye will dae after the deed is done?” Brody asked.

Logan glowered. Brody slapped him on the shoulder and laughed.

“I suppose that will be left up tae me, again. Dinnae worry, Logan. Somehow ye will get away with killing a Laird. I dinnae ken how, but ye will.”

Logan shrugged off his hand and gave him a warning look. “It is nae wise tae speak of such things openly.”

Brody didn’t seem flustered at all. “Naebody will take us seriously. Come.”

He followed Brody to the training fields with a scowl where a number of guards were practicing drills. They were watching for a while when one of the captains came up to them, waving them away.

“This is nae a performance. Gae away,” he said.

Brody pouted. “Really? I thought ye could use any able-bodied men given the circumstances. There are battles raging everywhere. I promise ye will nae regret it.”

“If ye want tae sign up, there is a process,” the captain said, preparing to turn on his heels and stride away.

That wasn’t swift enough for Brody, however.

“Ye will want tae make an exception for us. Just duel with my friend here.” Brody slapped Logan’s bicep. “If he defeats ye, ye welcome us straight intae yer ranks. If nae, then ye will at least get tae wipe the smile off my face,” Brody said.

He could be charming, but he could also be insufferable. Logan wouldn’t have him any other way, however.

The captain seemed to think that this was a fair bargain. “What is yer name?” he asked, looking at Logan.

“Grimhand,” Brody said before Logan could reply.

Logan stared at him. That was a new one.

The captain led him to a small area where they could duel. Brody had already succeeded in gathering attention. It never took him long to make friends.

Logan unsheathed his sword as the captain came rushing towards him. As with every fight, Logan’s focus narrowed. He sensed his enemy’s presence in a strange way, as though he were a wolf sniffing blood in the air.

The captain was a skilled fighter, but not without his faults. He favored his left leg, so Logan assumed that he suffered from an injury in his left. He waited for the captain to stride forward and then feinted, darting down and kicking the captain’s knee.

The captain howled in pain and fell to one leg, clutching his injured knee. Logan showed no mercy and threw a fist across the man’s face, the force of the impact shuddering up his arm. He then drove his knee into the man’s chest and followed through, raising his sword above him, ready to deliver the killing blow.

If only it were Ryan Knox.

The captain of the guard held up his hands.

Logan turned to see Brody collecting some coins from grumbling men.

“This should make our stay a wee bit sweeter,” Brody said.

Logan nodded as they made their way back to the courtyard. He gazed at the tallest tower of the Keep, imagining Ryan Knox sitting inside, completely unaware that he was about to face justice… even if it was long overdue.

2

Beitris blew some stray locks of dark hair from her face agitated. A braid had never managed to contain her unruly mass of curls.

Her fingers were twitching. In the sky above birds were gliding by, their wings outstretched, unaware that she was watching. Her newly acquired bow rested against her back and she felt the urge to swing it around and fire an arrow, which rested in a quiver that hung off the side of her horse.

The bow was made of willow. She had hewn it and strung it herself. Aunt Nessa, the finest archer in the Highlands, taught her that the greatest archers needed to make their own bows, to pour their emotions into it so that it was a part of them. It helped make the aim true.

Beitris had soaked everything up. While they might not have shared a last name with her aunt, they had almost identical blue eyes. Beitris had always seen much more of herself in her aunt. They were both feisty, ferocious, and fierce.

Beitris had never wanted to be outdone by her older brothers, so she had been precocious, always eager to shed youth and throw herself into adulthood.