“And me.”
“And me!”
Other members of the guard stepped up.
An ugly look transformed Mican’s face into a scowl. He drew his sword. The sound of it whispering forth was followed by that of his men following suit.
They teetered on the edge of a battle. Of death. To the root of her soul, Bradana knew this beautiful morning could be torn asunder in violence and blood.
She heard herself say, “Tak’ me instead.”
Everyone there stared at her, including Adair, who stood so close she could feel his heat and his emotions.
“Nay,” he said, low.
“Nay,” Mican said. “’Tis no’ ye I want.” He pointed at Adair with his sword. “His head will decorate my hall before the sun goes down this night.”
Adair drew his sword, which made no sound.
Bradana took another swift step forward. “’Twas I who refused your son and broke the marriage agreement,” she told Mican fiercely, “and I who should pay the price. Take me wi’ ye. Punish me as ye will. Leave my grandsire’s lands alone.”
Better that, so her heart cried within her, than those she loved should pay a high price. Her grandfather who could barely stand. His people who had welcomed them so warmly.
Adair.
She lived to be with him, but she would sacrifice herself a hundred times over rather than see him fall in a shower of blood.
“Bradana, nay.” He stepped forward also and laid his hand on her wrist. She could feel the ties that bound them—spiritual ties far older than the ones that had united them yesterday.
“Let me do this,” she whispered to him. “Pray, let me.”
“Nay!” He sought to step between her and Mican’s group of men. But Mican watched her closely and a cruel look came to his eyes.
“Well so, Erinman, will ye let a woman fight yer honor battle for ye?”
“I will not.” Adair raised his sword. “I challenge ye to combat here and now. The two o’ us one against the other.”
For a moment longer, Mican stood, his men all watching him, before he said. “Later, mayhap. I shall return for ye. But first, aye, I will tak’ yer woman as ye took my son, and she shall suffer for her treachery. She shall suffer well.”
“Nay!” Adair yelled, and leaped forward. The whole of Rohracht’s company leaped with him as one, but Bradana evaded them all save Wen, who stuck to her side.
Filled with equal parts raw fear and determination, she stepped to Mican, who promptly seized her by the arm and raised his blade to her throat, even as the nearest of his men wrested her borrowed sword from her hand.
Wen growled and Mican kicked at him. “Get this beast awa’ from me or I will kill him.”
Bradana begged her beloved hound, “Wen—go.” She raised her gaze to Adair’s face. Never had she beheld such agony. All his love came rushing at her in that moment. Hers for him kept her still in Mican’s grasp.
Let me do this for ye, she begged him silently.My love, my love.
Aloud she called, “Hold, Wen! Please!”
“Granddaughter!” Rohracht bellowed, clearly distraught. Mican kicked at the snarling hound again and backed away, hauling Bradana with him. His men closed around them.
“Bradana!” Adair called in turn, and came leaping forward. The beautiful morning erupted in bloodshed.
Chapter Forty
Athousand thoughtscrowded Adair’s head as he engaged in the fight, but one dominated. He had to reach Mican, to cut him down and end this terrible travesty before the man made off with Bradana.
