Page 26 of Edge of Yesterday

“Stick him yourself, Robert, if you think yourself able,” the bigger man shot back.

“Aye, Robert.” Cailean took a step toward him, keeping Triumph pointed at his throat. “Have at me—or can you no’ swing a blade?”

“By God,” Robert cursed. “Greer, get over here.”

The second man backed up and turned to restrain the woman.

“If you let her go this time I will kill ye myself,” Robert warned.

Greer yanked the woman against him and yelled when she bit him.

“Ye filthy bastard,” she spat.

“Kick him like you did me,” Cailean called.

His amusement froze in his gut when Greer yanked her head back by the hair and she cried out. Cailean took a step toward them, but jerked his gaze onto Davis when he lunged, sword swinging.

Cailean backed up. “This has gone far enough.” He kept his sword raised as he flashed a quick look around. “No one’s watching.”

The men exchanged a glance.

Davis jumped and swung left. Cailean yanked his sword up in time to block the blow. Fury shot through him like hot lava. He parried, blade moving as a shadowed blur. The man was no match for him, and Cailean wanted like hell to pummel him. He saw his opening and thrust, blocking a clumsy blow, then yanked his sword up and swung with a two-handed blow that knocked the sword from Davis’ grip. The weapon flung sideways like a helicopter blade, then clattered into the cottage and hit the ground. Robert reached them and raised his sword, edging around Cailean in an obvious attempt to get him to turn his back on Davis.

“I’ve had enough,” Cailean repeated. “Abusing a woman isn’t a game I play.” He shoved his sword back into her sheath and crossed his arms over his chest.

Robert froze, clearly startled. Cailean decided the man got his point, and started past him toward Greer and the woman. Robert leapt toward him. Cailean registered the raised sword and whirled, yanking Triumph from her sheath. He swung a sideways blow that met steel upon steel with a bone-jarring clang that made his ears ring.

Robert parried, then slashed at his midsection, opening a hole in Cailean’s great plaid and the linen tunic-styled shirt beneath. The red-hot desire to run his sword though the man caused Cailean’s vision to blur. Movement in the corner of his eye snapped him from the rage and he shifted so that he could see Davis’ slow approach to his left as he blocked a jab at his arm. Robert swung left, then feinted right and lunged. Cailean barely dodged a nasty cut to his thigh.

“By God, Davis, use your sword, ye coward,” Robert ordered.

“Aye, Davis, use your sword,” Cailean said in a soft voice.

Davis halted. Cailean closed in on Robert, cornering him between the cottage wall and a peat stack. The man’s skill surprised him. If this were a real fight to the death, Cailean would be forced to work much harder.

The pounding of booted steps sounded on the lane beyond the alley.

“Get her out of here, Greer,” Robert shouted.

He swung his sword in an arc. Cailean blocked, but fell back a step under the onslaught. Greer hauled the woman over his shoulder. Robert advanced and Cailean retreated several steps, then sidestepped a lunge and rammed his fist into Robert’s ribs as he stumbled forward. Robert whirled with a growl, but Cailean cracked the flat of his sword against the front of Robert’s legs. Robert fell face forward onto the ground. Cailean leapt over him and slammed Triumph into her sheath as Davis spun and raced after Greer and the woman.

“Here!” a man shouted.

Cailean glanced over his shoulder. Four men veered into the alley. He pumped his legs faster. Davis shot from the alley onto the street. Cailean exited two seconds later. Davis twisted and looked over his shoulder at him. Cailean gained and laughed as he passed him, headed for Greer, who entered another alley across the street. The slide of a blade from its sheath caused Cailean to jerk his attention back to Davis, and he veered right, barely avoiding the man’s blade as it sliced past his forearm. Cailean wheeled around and Davis veered to the right.

“We will kill ye,” shouted the men chasing them.

Cailean ignored them and ran after Greer. He neared the alley, intending to catch Greer before he exited on the far side, when a woman shouted, “He is waiting for ye!” A muffled cry followed.

Cailean skidded to a halt at the mouth of the alley and yanked out his sword. He peered into the murky shadows and spotted Greer’s bulk pressed against the left cottage. Sword raised, Cailean crept forward. He detected the faint smell of urine. Talk about authenticity. He neared within three paces of Greer when the man spun and raced toward the other end of the alley. The woman pushed away from the wall and stumbled. Cailean leapt forward and caught her.

“Let me go.” She batted his arm like a weak kitten.

She seemed weak as a kitten, he mentally amended. She was one hell of an actor, as were the three men.

She swayed.

“Easy,” he soothed.