“Nae,” he commanded before he kicked her legs farther apart.
Yet, he was so demanding! Did she like it? Well, a wee bit.
“Ouff,” she puffed at his stern command, then groused, “Take care there, Aonghus.”
His intensity rose. “Care?” He threw his hands up dramatically. “Does your mind dare to consider a Northmen will be offering a pause to aid with ‘care’ for your attack?” Raging hell, he was demanding and right.
Her eyes narrowed in determination while she capitulated. “Nae, they will charge without thought, driven by rage.”
“Aye.” He nodded, serious. “Keep your damn stance wide. There, Cluaran; when you throw, how does your weight shift onto your soles?”
She demonstrated by leaning forward then placing all her weight onto the balls of her front feet, emulating the throw; the blade caught a glimpse from a sunray, and it blinded her eyes a second.
“Excellent. Soon as we venture out into the forest you shall commence on targets such as trees. For now, the steps to aid the blade?”
“Upward to commence; my enemy cannot be more than three steps from my blade in a straight throw or it shall not aim true. ’Tis best to attempt a throw at a larger distance so it may shock the enemy,” she answered. He nodded before she continued, “Aonghus, when I feel the hilt begin to release from my palm” – she arced her arm up then swung down halfway to pause – “Hereis where I release; when the hilt frees my fingers, my thumb holds steady atop. This pressure on the hilt controls the angle; give a wee bit of press at the last moment to the hilt’s edge to keep the arc down.”
A smile from him. Her blood pumped faster. “If an enemy takes you into his grasp?”
Focus,lest he kick her ankle again. Her fingers tightened on the hilt; she motioned to him directly in front ofher. “Slice the sides of the throat, this will drop him same as a boulder.” She explained the earlier lesson.
“Keirah, if you cannot take a high path with the blade?”
“Groin; if I can tear the blade across his inner thigh, death is imminent,” she answered, quickly.
“Nae blade?”
She lowered her eyes. “A knee to the groin.” Her face flamed at the tactic his bruised groin demonstrated.
He didn’t dwell but asked sternly, “If the groin is protected?”
Her eyes scanned the nearby vista and grabbed a rock. “Use the nearest force available in weapon.”
“Applied where?”
She raised the boulder toward his temple, paused, then met his eyes. “This is a fragile point; aim here.”
His smile grew. “When we reach Stirling, I know of a bowyer to fit you properly, lass. A bow will be made just for your delicate size and you will get the training you seek.”
The boulder on his temple, she reversed so her fingers traced over his sensitive skin patch with a tender caress. “You cannot fathom what this training harbors in feel for me, MacCade. More…more than words.” His pulse was pumping under her flesh as well. Did he feel an attraction sparking too?
He paused while looking down at her a long moment. Her heart thumped quicker, and not from the matters they spoke of about defense. Why had his gaze fallen onto her lips? Would he kiss her? Would she halt him? Did she want to halt him? When the hell had she become so unsure on everything?
Grrr.A sound took the cavern, echoing directly from her stomach. Ugh, that ruined the moment. Hunger letting its rage be known! Her hand dropped quick as the stone she held from mortification.
“Pardon.” Her cheeks blazed. “I am a wee bit ravenous. ’Tis a weakness I carry. My tummy summons when seekin’ fulfillment.”
He gave a low chuckle, and she watched curiously as he strode toward a rock pile and pulled back the top layer. Hidden beneath was a pouch, which, once unfolded, revealed a generous sum of blaeberries.The mercenary must have hidden this here on his way north. Gathering them in his palms, he handed them over one and all. Her breath caught.What a selfless act.He must be hungry as all too, but he gave every last one without a second thought.
“Cluaran, tame the beast within.” He nodded at her gut when it rumbled again, and her cheeks flamed more. “It will be dusk soon. I am goin’ to seek a wee nap. You stay watch? Listen for any twigs which may break sounding the alarm?”
“Aye.” She nodded. A quiver took her spine when his warm hands brushed hers delivering the helping of berries.
He settled upon the floor then gazed at her one final time. “I dare say if your hunger for feasting lets itself be known so sternly, the sound you shall utter in Gaelic battle cry at the enemy before attack will be unlike any other,” he declared, then winked.
Was there another Gaelic warrior goddess present? She darted her eyes behind her. No, he winked ather! Her breath caught.
Chapter 5
