He resisted the urge to wrench his arms out of the royal guards’ vise-like grip.
Never before had he feared someone would unmask him and discover his true identity.His talent for deception had always served him well.
But this—stating clearly he was Sir Adam la Nuit of Rivenloch and not being recognized by his own king—this made his blood simmer.
Considering the king had been out of the country for some time, and the fact that Adam looked nothing as he had before—with cropped hair, a full beard, and battered armor—he supposed it was no surprise that his identity was being challenged.Still, it was humiliating.
He’d been caught in the forest, exactly as he’d intended.He’d managed to stray far enough away from Fergus’s clansmen on his own to seek out the camp of the king’s army.And he’d allowed the king’s men to take him into custody.
“I’m Sir Adam la Nuit of Rivenloch, Your Grace.We’ve met before.”
“Rivenloch?”he replied, giving him a head-to-toe perusal.“You don’t look like a Rivenloch.”
“I’m…in disguise.”
The guards snickered at that.
Adam felt a muscle tick in his jaw.
The king gave him a smug smile, clearly amused.“In disguise?I see.And what proof do you carry that you are a member of the Rivenloch clan?A seal?A ring?A document?”
Adam sighed.
This was Aillenn’s fault.It was hard not to be angry with her.If the scheming wench hadn’t switched the satchels weeks ago, he’d have the medallion now as proof.
“My clan medallion was stolen, Your Grace.”
The guards snickered again.
Adam felt the veins in his neck bulging.
The king steepled his fingers in front of him.“So you have no proof then?”
The guards chuckled aloud.
Adam clenched his jaw.He’d had enough.He’d risked his life, voluntarily embedding himself in the keep of the enemy to spy on the king’s behalf.
Proof?The king wanted proof he was a Rivenloch?
Fueled by the cold blood of his Viking forebears and the hot blood of his Scots ancestors, he wrenched his left arm out of the guard’s grip, turned to the guard on his right, and gave him a hard punch just above his smirking mouth.A punch that crunched the bones of the man’s nose and made him stagger away in pain.
The guard on his left drew his dagger.Adam dodged the quick thrust, seizing the man’s wrist and bending it backwards until he dropped to his knees with a yowl.Adam grabbed the weapon before it fell from the guard’s limp fingers.Then he faced the two soldiers at the pavilion door.They were armed with swords.
He could still best them.Hell, he could kill them.But that would be a mistake.
Instead, he rushed at one of them, blocking the man’s upraised blade with the haft of the dagger before diving toward his shins to bowl him over backwards.
While he disentangled himself from the fallen soldier, he lost the dagger.The second guard had time to take a few swings at him.Adam dodged right.Then he rolled left.At the third strike, he managed to kick the man’s hand, altering its course.The blade whistled past Adam’s head, missing him by an inch.
Borrowing one of his sister Feiyan’s tricks, he leaped to his feet, did a quick spin and, with his heel, kicked the guard full force in the side of the head.The man went down like a puppet with its strings cut.
Adam located and scooped up the dropped dagger, bracing himself for more attacks.
There were none.
Breathing heavily, he glanced at the king.
Malcolm looked suitably frightened.As he should have been.Adam still had a dagger.If he’d been a foe instead of a loyal vassal, he could have killed the king.
