“Nay, I’m well,” she gasped thickly, her voice hoarse. “Daenae worry about me. Worry about dealing with him once and for all. He’ll nae rest until he has both of the lassies and sees ye dead.”
Logan chuckled. “Vile lies.”
“I daenae ken.”
“How about a bargain, eh? I’d be a fool to bring me little clan up against yers, Ryder. But I do need to make a good marriage to strengthen meself. Once me clan is stronger, I’ll have nay need to bring war to yer doorstep, will I?”
“Convincin’,” Ryder responded flatly. “And are ye makin’ this marriage yerself?”
Logan sniffed. “Nay, I need one of the lassies. They’re me nieces, Ryder. Let me take one, and ye can keep the other. I daenae mind which. I’ll see that she has a fine marriage. To a laird, no doubt.”
Ryder breathed out slowly and evenly. He could hear voices approaching in the distance, shouts of worry and stamping feet. Reinforcements were coming, but he could not risk turning his back on Logan. Not once.
Logan lifted his sword, pointing the blade toward Ryder.
“Ye have gotten in me way for the last time, boy.”
“Let’s hope so,” he shot back. “It’s funny, but if ye had only plotted to take me sisters, I would have been content to throw ye in the dungeon and forget about ye.”
“But?” Logan enquired, seeming almost amused.
Ryder jerked his head toward Megan. “But ye hurther. And now I’m goin’ to have to kill ye.”
Logan gave a sharp, bitter laugh. “I’d like to see ye try.”
He didn’t wait for Ryder to counter with a witty comment. The older man lunged toward him, covering the space between them in an instant, sword flashing out like a deadly silver fish.
Ryder’s blade shot up to meet his, and they clashed together with an echoing sound.
The battle, then, had begun.
Ryder brought up his sword again and again, meeting his uncle’s blade in blow after blow. The world around him vanished.
Losing track of your surroundings in battle was generally a mistake. After all, there were no strict rules in warfare. A soldier might be fighting his opponent diligently, only to have the opponent’s friend sneak up and stab him in the back.
This was not a battle. It was aduel, and the rules for that were entirely different. Logan bent his whole concentration toward the fight, and so did Ryder. The first one to make a mistake would pay for it with his life.
Logan feinted, deftly maneuvering his long blade and slashing it forward. If Ryder hadn’t jumped back, the point would have carved across his belly. It was a dangerously slashing stroke, the sort of blow that would open up a man’s stomach.
When he dodged this lethal stroke, Logan struck again. It was a less powerful jab, but it did slash up the outside of Ryder’sforearm. Again, it was a blow that could have taken off his hand at the wrist.
Ryder leaped back, baring his teeth. Pain flared up in his arm, but he pushed it aside, ignoring the tickling sensation of hot, sticky blood oozing across his skin.
Logan chuckled. “Nae as fierce a warrior as ye thought ye were, eh?”
Footsteps shuffled in the passage behind them. Ryder watched Logan’s eyes shift, just momentarily. A hardness came into them.
He kens he’s outnumbered,Ryder thought.Perhaps this can end.
“I’ll make ye a deal,” Ryder said at last. “Lay down yer sword. Confess yer crimes and step aside from yer role as laird. I’ll choose a new Laird MacAdair, and ye will leave Scotland forever, promisin’ never to return or to communicate with the lassies and me ever again. Agree to these terms, and there’s nay need for anyone to die.”
Logan’s gaze landed on him again, hardening.
“Oh, nay?” he hissed. “I think that there’s a need for someone to die, daenae ye? One more death, and I’ll be a happy man.”
Without warning, he lunged forward again.
Time seemed to slow, as it often did in warfare. Ryder was aware of a sharp, panicked intake of breath from behind him. That was Megan, although he couldn’t have said exactly how he knew. He heard Ewan shout.
