Knight Triumphant. Heather Graham

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      CHAPTER 6

      He didn’t say a word to her, but steadied her on her feet and spoke to the man behind her. “Allan, see that she’s not hurt.”

      Then he turned and walked to where Gannet had fallen against the trees. He stooped, turned him over. “Dead,” he said briefly, and rose.

      The man was dead. She couldn’t feel sorrow. He had been trying to kill her.

      He and his companions had plotted carefully to kill all of them.

      The sounds of hoofbeats came again, and they all turned to see that Merry and John were trotting along the path in front of two more men in mail and tunics that bore the colors of Robert Bruce.

      Merry, seeing Igrainia, called out, and as fast as her round bulk would allow, she dismounted and rushed to her, ignoring everyone else. “Oh, my lady!” she cried in alarm, seeing the condition of her clothing and the blood that spattered it. “You’re hurt!” she said, reaching up to put her arms around her and hug her tightly.

      Igrainia wasn’t seriously injured, but she realized, as Merry’s arms came around her, that she was sore in every muscle of her body. Her throat hurt her and she had banged a knee and her hip hard against the ground when she had fallen. But the blood spattered over her was Gannet’s, not hers.

      She tried to reassure Merry. “No, I am not really hurt,” she said quickly as she eased herself from the caring yet tight hold around her and squeezed Merry’s hands.

      Eric left Gannet’s body on the road by the trees where it had fallen. He remounted his horse. “I’ll see to the others,” he said to Allan, “if you will escort these three.”

      There was something utterly dismissive about the way he spoke that sparked anger in Igrainia.

      She walked to him quickly. “They murdered people, simply murdered them in cold blood.” She was startled when she added, “Don’t be deceived by the women, they are the ones who killed first. The young men, if they are back there . . .”

      “They are aware of what they face.”

      He started to turn his horse.

      “Wait. Perhaps I can do something, help. They may not all be dead—”

      “You wish to help?” he said. His eyes were still cold and somewhat scathing. “They tried to kill you. They were common thieves and murderers.”

      “No . . . just that family. The others were just trying to reach a new life, they were riding with us for our safety.” The irony of the last filled her and her words ended on something of a high note that threatened both laughter and tears. “That you . . . that you should have come along to stop them . . .”

      “Ah, and there’s a wonderful note of gratitude!” he muttered.

      “They stabbed them, and struck them . . . someone may still be alive,” she said, ignoring his words. “I can perhaps help—”

      “And perhaps not.”

      And she knew by his tone that he referred to the fact that his wife was dead.

      “I saved your life!” she told him.

      “Perhaps a will to live saved my life.”

      “There’s a wonderful note of gratitude!” she mocked.

      She was startled as he dismounted from his horse. Perhaps because of her very near brush with death at Gannet’s hands, she backed away.

      He reached out, grabbing her hand. “What in God’s name ails you, woman?” he demanded. “We did not take the time to follow in your thankfully slow footsteps to murder you ourselves.”

      She tried not to wince as he caught her roughly about the waist, and she managed not to cry out, or wonder too long at his intent. He set her atop his great СКАЧАТЬ