Oblivious, she held out the Nordic armlet, offering the gift to him.
“Hell’s afire!” He grabbed her and shoved her to the side, away from the tent, the force of his push sending her to her knees.
“Aaaagghhh!” Her shoulder slammed into one of the angled support poles and the golden armpiece went sailing.
She toppled sideways, landing with a gaspedwhooshon the peaty, grass-tufted ground. Her bodice split wide and her breasts spilled free, jigging wildly as she scrambled to her feet.
Ronan flinched, her cry lancing him.
He flung himself between her and the infested tie-rope. Already reaching for his sword, he had the blade half-drawn before he realized the mist snake was gone.
The day had turned light and breezy, the cloud shadows swiftly moving away.
Nothing stirred but the rushing of the wind and a tiny gray wagtail flitting past to light jauntily on a red-berried rowan branch.
Slanting rays of cold autumn sun fell across the Viking tent, picking out its bright colors and making the glassy, peaty-dark surface of the lochan glitter as if it’d been scattered with jet and diamonds.
Somewhere a raven gave its harsh call.
Buckie hoppled around in a circle, howling and barking like a dog possessed.
And Ronan had ne’er felt a greater fool.
“Mother of God, lass, forgive me.” He whirled around, his arms spread wide. “Ne’er would I hurt you, no’ e’er. I’d sooner cut my own flesh —”
“I am well.” The tremble in her voice belied her words. “No ill has befallen me — or will!”
She dusted her skirts and made no move to tuck her breasts back inside her torn bodice.
Buckie padded up to her, pressed his great bulk against her soiled skirts.
Ronan let his arms drop. “I will see you safely to Eilean Creag.” The words formed before he could stop them. “Anywhere, so long as you are afforded safety.”
“Pah!” She cut the air with a hand. “I am where I wish to be.”
Ronan scoffed. “You live on dreams, methinks!”
He scowled at her.
She bent to retrieve the fallen armlet, her breasts still swinging.
Straightening, she let her eyes speak the words her lips held close. “I know you would not hurt me,” she did say, watching him. “Nor am I frightened by whate’er menace caused you to push me.”
“Sweet lass, I am the menace —”
“Nae, you are my raven.”
Ronan’s gut clenched at her innocence. “You err, lass. I am —”
“I believe you know what you are.” She lifted her chin. “To me and, aye, what I am to you!”
“ Lass —”
“Even so,” she cut him off again, “there are things about me that you need to know.”
On the words, she set the armpiece on the rough-planked table and whipped up her skirts, revealing asgian dubhstrapped to her thigh.
“The wee blade I gave Hector was not my only one.” She looked at him, her color high. “Ne’er think I walk about unprotected! Much as I cherish our legends and tradition, I am not some large-eyed, song-trilling milkmaid born on the hill who trusts in naught more than charms and saining rituals to keep her safe.”
