Page 18 of Highland Spy

He lunged forward to catch her, but she righted herself and kept running.

Something inside him twisted. She was exhausted and there was almost nothing to her scrawny frame. He should have said two laps.

He should never have let her stay to train.

“I think ye’ve warmed up well enough,” he said.

“No.” She huffed a heavy breath. “One more.”

Why the hell had he said five?

Because other women had been able to do at least five when they’d first arrived. After they were well rested. And of a decent weight.

Ariana lowered her head on the last lap and quickened her pace despite the rasp of her breathing. She didn’t stumble again and did not stop until they reached the place they’d started.

Her small chest puffed in and out and sweat trickled down her reddened face, but she gave him a triumphant smile.

A slant of sunlight bathed her face, and he realized for the first time that her eyes weren’t actually blue, but a deep blue-green. The color of the sea on a calm day with a ring of dark green around it, lending her eyes a feline look.

She truly was a beauty.

“Ye did well, Ariana.” He patted her back and then wished he hadn’t. The hard stab of her shoulders and spine against his palm struck him deep in the heart.

He’d be having a private conversation with Percy later to ensure Ariana ate more times per day than everyone else.

“You’re right,” Ariana said with her beautiful smile. “I feel much warmer, and my legs are hardly sore from yesterday’s ride.”

She looked as if she were about to fall over.

“First I’ll teach ye to throw a dagger,” he said. At least that task wouldn’t be as exhaustive as fighting.

Connor wouldn’t make the same mistake of training her too hard as he had with making her run those damn laps.

She followed him across the field. “Are we being trained to be warriors?”

He tugged the heavy round target from the pile of practice gear and set it up several yards away. She remained quiet, awaiting his answer.

“Something like that.” He grabbed several sharp knives and put all but one on the frozen ground between them. The snow had melted somewhat and several limp strands of grass lay in green spears upon the muddied white surface.

Her gaze fell to the pile of blades. “When will I know?”

“When ye’re ready,” he said, and extended his hand so she could see how he held the dagger. “The key to this is ye hold the blade lightly between yer thumb and the knuckle of yer first finger.”

Ariana plucked a dagger from the ground and mimicked his delicate grip.

“It’s a light throw. If ye put power behind it, yer throw will go wild. Keep yer wrist relaxed.” He loosed the dagger. It flew through the air and sank deep into the center of the target.

She worked her own dagger back and forth several times before releasing it. It clattered against the target and fell to the ground.

“Ye’ll get it,” he said. “Ye just have to practice.”

She nodded and flung the next blade. It too sailed wildly through the air.

He let her continue to work on throwing daggers until the salty scent of roasting ham wafting out from indoors told him their morning session had drawn to a close.

Connor put his hand over hers, stopping her from grabbing another dagger.

“We’re done. Now ye’ll eat something before attending yer lessons.”