Circle of Honor (30 page)

“I would prove myself worthy to be in your guard. And you may show our clansmen how well you can wield a sword.”

“You want to fight me?”

“Just a friendly display of swordsmanship. Show everyone how 'tis done.”

The hair on Adam's neck stood on end. He remembered their confrontation that day in the fog and Leod's bold challenge at the council meeting. He did not trust Leod—what was the man up to? But surely he wouldn't try anything dishonorable here, in front of everyone.

Ian stepped between them. “My laird, I must insist upon a private word with you.”

Morogh appeared ready to murder Leod where he stood, and although Adam understood their desire to protect him, he resented the implication.

Ever since the council meeting, Adam had come to believe that the men he admired and respected had chosen him more for what was in his heart than for his sword arm. He didn't have to prove himself to them. Nor did he need to prove anything to himself.

So why even consider Leod's challenge? Perhaps Leod's request for friendly sport was his way of acknowledging Adam as laird. Or perhaps it was treachery. There was only one way to find out. Adam resigned himself to ending their feud Leod's way. And should Leod turn on his laird in front of the clan, he would not live out the day.

Forcing a smile and amiable tone, Adam said, “Leod, if you agree, I will meet you as soon as I have finished with Ian.” To the crowd he said, “I will announce the guard at the conclusion of our sport.”

“As you wish.” Leod tipped his sword in deference and was soon lost among the crowd.

TWENTY-TWO

ALTHOUGH MOST of the nearby clansmen seemed in accord with Adam's decision, Ian nearly dragged Adam away from the others. “Of all the stupid, ill-conceived, witless ideas. I should take a strap to you myself. Your father . . .” Ian muttered and sputtered until they'd reached an empty tent. “Are you crazy?”

“Nay. But I think Leod may be.”

“All the more reason not to fight him, Adam. What if you are wounded?”

“I will recover.”

Ian's face contorted. “Blast the optimism of youth.”

Adam smiled grimly. “Leod's threats must end, Ian. All my life he has bullied anyone weaker than he. I cannot allow it to continue.” He did not want to fight Leod or anyone. But this confrontation had been a long time coming, and Adam was determined to end it today, once and for all. “And when I beat him, I'll have reason not to invite him into the guard.”

Ian puffed in exasperation. “If you beat him.”

Before Adam could chide the older man for his lack of faith, someone cleared his throat outside the tent. Adam looked to the opening to see Morogh. And beside him an anxious-looking Gwenyth.

Morogh stepped closer and jerked his head. “Come, Ian. Let these young people have some time together.”

Ian balked, but Morogh grabbed his shirt. “Come on.” The two men left, Ian grumbling and protesting all the way.

GWENYTH CAME to stand before Adam and stared into her husband's azure eyes. She saw steadfast determination there. Still, Morogh had begged her to intercede, to use her feminine charms if need be to change Adam's mind.

She lowered her eyes, scanning the dirt floor of the tent. Anxiety and foreboding had shadowed her all day, and now it was clear to her that she was not the one in danger. And her heart nearly stopped at the realization Adam might be hurt or killed before this day was over.

Gazing back up at him she said, “You must not fight him, Adam.”

“Do you fear for me then, wife?”

“I do.” The admission came easily, far easier than acknowledgment of how much she cared for him. “Why must you do this? You have already seen the truth of your father's advice. The council chose you.”

His tender regard told her he appreciated her opinion. “Leod is responsible for those other assaults, Gwenyth. I can't prove it, but I know it. I must avenge them.” He cupped her cheek with his palm, his gaze steady. “And you.”

“Let Daron do it,” she pleaded, knowing the argument to be futile.

“Leod challenged me.”

She pulled away from his touch. “You will be hurt or killed.”
And it will be my fault for forcing you into this marriage.
Another life cut too short. Merciful heaven, when would it end?

“And what of Daron? Ah, you are not so sure I can best Leod, but Daron can?” His voice hardened. “ 'Tis only meant for sport— Ian won't allow us to fight to the death.” He tilted her chin upwards. “You have so little faith in me?”

“Of course not. I distrust Leod.”

“As do I.” He brushed away her tear with the pad of his thumb. “Have you come to care for me, then, love?”

“Aye,” she whispered and flung herself into his arms, drinking in his gentle strength and the rich sound of his voice. The intensity of her feelings for him came as a surprise. Or perhaps they'd been this strong for some time, and she had fought against them.

She feared for him, not only because she feared the loss of his protection, but because she'd come to accept his belief that they were meant to be together. Who could know or understand God's reasons? It was useless to deny it. But he spoke of loyalty, and what she needed to hear were words of love before she could trust completely.

“Well now. Have faith. In me and in God.” He lifted her face, then bent and kissed her, a sweet kiss of promise that quickly deepened into desire. He pulled away, his breathing as unsteady as her own. “You will be safe, no matter what, for Seamus has pledged to protect you, to marry you if need be.”

“You have given me away?”

“Only if I am dead, Gwenyth. Only then. And only because doing so ensures your life and keeps you safe from Leod's reach. And Robert's.”

She shook her head, both amazed at his foresight and praying his preparations were unnecessary. “I should be angry with you, but all I feel is fear. Please be careful, husband.”

He observed her, his expression guarded. “And you will be waiting for me?”

“Aye.” A day ago, an hour ago, she might have hesitated. But when faced with the possibility of losing him, everything became very clear. She cupped his cheek. “No matter what condition you are in or how many parts are maimed or missing.”

He favored her with a smile, the one that could melt a frozen river, the one her heart could not ignore. “And that vow of chastity you coerced from me?”

She grinned. “I will try to forget it, my laird.”

“Truly?”

“Aye.”

He pulled her close and kissed her brow, her nose, her eyelids. “Ah, Gwenyth. Dare I hope you will become my true wife soon?”

She pulled away, just enough so she could look into his eyes. He would fight to rid the world of a bully, a man who would harm the weak. This husband that God had chosen for her had honored her in many ways. And now he would risk his life against a man who knew nothing of honor or loyalty.

“You needn't fight Leod to gain entrance to my chamber.”

He looked startled but recovered quickly. “But I would gladly fight a hundred men for that privilege, did you but ask.”

“Would you not fight at all, if I asked?”

“I wish I could grant that boon, love. But the differences between Leod and I must be put to rest. And my wife's honor and that of Leod's other victims must be avenged.”

“Is there nothing I can say or do to persuade you against this folly?”

The gleam in his eyes was unmistakable, and she felt herself blush. He pulled her against him. “Aye, lass. You are temptation itself.”

“Then let me tempt you,” she whispered, her voice unnaturally husky.

“Adam, lad.” They parted hastily as Morogh strode into the tent, forcing reality back with resounding finality. “Has she convinced ye not to fight?”

“No. I will meet Leod on the field. Now give us a moment,” Adam growled.

Morogh groaned but wisely retreated to stand by the doorway.

ADAM RESENTED the intrusion almost as much as he resented Gwenyth's questionable avowals of affection. Was it all just a means to change his mind, or did she truly care? He pulled Gwenyth close again and quietly asked, “You were supposed to convince me not to fight?”

“Did I not succeed?” Her voice was light, despite the worry clearly evident on her face.

He raised her chin so he could look into her eyes. “I will want to finish what we started here, my lady.”

“Then see you stay in one piece, my laird.”

“No protests? No begging?”

She held his gaze with gentle affection. “Leod must be stopped. I know 'tis selfish of me, but I am tired of living in fear of him. Of living in fear that all I hold dear will be taken from me, again. Please, promise you will keep Daron close-by.”

All I hold dear.
Adam smiled, knowing now without a doubt that she would be waiting for him. “I will. 'Tis supposed to be a gentleman's fight, but—”

“I don't trust Leod, either. He knows nothing of fealty.”

Adam embraced her, pulled her soft body close, and lost himself in her sweetness. He didn't know if those emotions could be improved upon, but he wanted a lifetime with this woman to find out. If he survived this encounter with Leod, he vowed once again to court this woman as she deserved to be, to teach her all the ways of love. To entice her to come to him freely.

“Lady Gwenyth, send the boy out here.”

Adam grinned down at her, rolling his eyes and mouthing the word “boy” in mock exasperation.

“There is no boy in this tent, Morogh,” she challenged, then raised on tiptoe to whisper, “Only an honorable man.” With a kiss to his cheek, she pulled away from him.

At this moment, Adam felt the full force of dread. The day he'd known must come was here. He held no illusions that Leod would keep the contest friendly. Would Adam die just as he found hope of winning Gwenyth's heart? Or would the promise of her love give him the strength he needed to accomplish his task?

He took Gwenyth's hand and led her to the tent's exit. Stepping through, he said to Morogh, “Come then. 'Tis time.”

With Gwenyth's arm tucked safely in his own, Adam walked toward the agreed-upon area. He handed her to Morogh. “Keep her safe.”

Reluctantly he put her out of his thoughts and concentrated on the task ahead. Because it was to be a friendly display of swordsmanship and not a fight as such, none of Adam's men would join him to protect the weaker arm.

Leod stood some twenty feet away, his sword at the ready. Adam donned his leather hauberk—the same one, now skillfully repaired, that had no doubt saved his arm the last time he'd fought. But unlike that last fight, Adam's mind was clear, his body strong. He gave thanks to God for bringing him safely to this day, and asked for his blessing.
Thy will be done.

Adam took his sword from the lad who held it, then carefully unsheathed it. 'Twas a fine weapon, shorter and lighter than the claymore, but deadly nonetheless.

Caressing the hilt, he hefted the sword, reminding his brain and muscles of the differences in fighting style required for this weapon. He swiped the air, warming his body for the exertion to come.

Leod was smiling and jesting with the crowd. For a moment, Adam considered that perhaps the man meant no harm after all. But that sixth sense, the one that could save one's life when in danger, warned him not to believe Leod's jovial behavior. Indeed, when the man finally turned to him, only darkness shone from his eyes.

And it was directed at Adam.

He allowed himself a quick search of the crowd. Gwenyth stood well back, Morogh close by her side. Morogh would not let her come to harm. Dragging his thoughts from such distraction, he looked to where Leod stood. If Leod did not prove himself loyal, Adam would kill him. Gwenyth's life and the future of his clan were at stake. He turned his full attention to Leod.

Leod circled and Adam followed, feinting and thrusting, in no hurry to clash. Adam recalled everything he could remember about Leod's fighting style. And reminded himself that, sport or not, Leod would test Adam's weak left side.

Indeed, the other man's first attack was a flurry of thrusts to Adam's left, which he managed to defend. Leod's surprised reaction was gratifying, and Adam allowed himself a moment to celebrate that small victory. They were well matched, always had been. Now they engaged in full, two-handed swings and arm-numbing blocks, and sweat rolled down Adam's face. As he'd anticipated, Leod made repeated attacks to Adam's left, forcing him to use the arm over and over.

Fatigue set in, and Adam struggled to take the offensive and bring Leod's attack to the right. Leod smiled in silent acknowledgment and pressed harder.

Adam was thankful for the time spent swimming, for it had undoubtedly strengthened his whole body. But would it be enough?

Leod's blows came faster, and with sudden awareness, Adam saw that the other man had changed the rules of the game. No longer were they putting on a show—Leod was fighting to win, just as Adam had known he would. The spectators must have noted the increase in intensity, for Adam heard Ian call a halt.

But neither Adam nor Leod complied, and no one was foolish enough to step close to the swinging blades.

GWENYTH WATCHED in mute, frightened fascination as the two men fought. Their display inspired awe, for both were skilled warriors. She thought Adam fought well, but as the skirmish continued, she feared she could discern a growing weakness in his left arm. Just as Seamus had once intensified his bout with Adam, Leod now did the same.

Gwenyth gasped. Ian Shaw was shouting at them to cease, but neither man would be first to put aside his weapon. Leod drove Adam back, and the crowd quickly dispersed to give room.

But she moved closer, aware now of Nathara just behind her and Morogh but a step away. A quick glance at his face showed that he, too, realized Leod's intent.