The men guffawed, also riled by the idea.
“Me faither taught me! and I reckon he was a better fighter than ye afore he died. Ye doubt me, let’s dae it now.” She raised her head, flicking her head over her shoulders. Duncan looked from her wild hair, to her small feet. This father of hers, he noted that she grew a hundred times more sensitive when he was mentioned.
“Ye must think me a fool, contriving of a means tae hand ye a sword.”
She actually scoffed and raised her free arm. “Admit ye’re afraid that a lass will best ye. We’re surrounded, where would I run?”
Slightly incensed and curious, Duncan cocked his head to the side. Then his glance traveled to their joined hands. Hers was steady, not shaking at all. He hid a small smile. Actually, this could work in his favor.
“We will dae it this way.” He tugged at the knot, arresting her with his glance. “If ye win, I will give ye a twenty-minute start tae run.” He loosened the last knot, and motioned to one of the men to toss him a sword. “And if I win, ye willnae try tae run again.”
Her eyes flared for a few seconds as she thought about it. Then with a scowl, she hefted the sword from him. There wasexpertise in her grasp as she scanned the hilt and edges. “WhenI win.”
Duncan grinned. “Sure.”
They squared off against each other. Duncan placed his sword in his left hand with an arrogant smirk. He waited for her to go on the offense. She saw his move and a frown feathered between her brows.
“Ye are a cocky…”
“Ye might not want tae complete that. These men will have yer hide for breakfast,” he taunted with a leisurely tone. He enjoyed the flare of annoyance on her perfect face.
“Is that a threat?”
“’Tis. I’m their leader. Ye might not have realized it from yer high horse.”
Provoked, she leapt off the ground and slashed her sword in a wide arch, spinning on her heels, sending her luxurious hair flying. Duncan blocked her, intending not to infuse his full strength. But she attacked with such energy, it had him stumbling backward. The men cheered, whistling for her. Startled, Duncan steadied his stance, shifting his sword to the right. She was relentless, backing him into a constant defense.
There was no opening to pin her. Eyes sparkling, she said, “not laughin’ now, are ye?”
Duncan thought her raspy voice would be his undoing. He blocked a swing at his shoulder and another aimed at his abdomen. He swung closer, pinning her sword to the soil. They were almost nose to nose. She was hardly out of breath. A faint sheen of sweat covered her face, and in the fires lit up by the camp, she looked like a golden goddess.
He moved to knock the weapon from her hand, but she swung upwards, aiming a kick at his knee. Duncan landed on his ass with a frustrated, surprised huff. She had the weapon pointed at his Adam’s apple. She smiled, flipped that hair over her shoulder and winked. “Admit defeat.”
Immediately, Duncan kicked her ankle and as she fell, he diverted the sword from his neck and half-rising, he thrust her weapon far from her and held his to her throat. She swore, eye blazing in rage. He had her pinned, unmoving under him.
Duncan said, “ye should’ve finished the job.” His men had the good sense to cheer at that moment or he would’ve put them through severe training back home.
“Ye cheated, ye’re a dirty fighter. That’s unfair!” she blustered. With a laugh, he flicked a wisp of hair away from her face, which just made her face appear redder.
“The world’s an unfair place, lass.”
Duncan got to his feet and held out his hand. She took a swipe at it, and rose on her own. Craig came in from her right. He passed her some water and said, “good fight, ye really did learn well.”
“Oh, bugger off,” she cussed and stomped off ignoring both drink and the men.
“So you’ll keep yer word then,” Duncan called. Quietly, he acknowledged that he’d underestimated her.
“Unlike ye, I am upright,” she spat.
Hours later, anger still brewed in her chest. She’d won, fair and square before he made that dirty move. He was despicable. An absolute swine. The lowest of the lowest worm. Two days in his company and she was swearing like she had lived in the slums all her life. It was all his doing. And to top it off, she was no closer to discovering the name of their clan or finding Clan Hay.
Each time she brushed the subject, the men laughed and told her to be patient, that she’d be there soon. Best to keep her surprised. So, despite being surrounded by people, she had no clue regarding the direction of their journey. She finally figured out that it was probably an attempt to protect themselves in case she turned out to be a spy.
Duncan was the worst of them all, and the worst she had ever encountered. From his stupid dirty smile, to the twinkle ofvictory in his warm eyes, and his shinning skin. And his weight when it was on her. Grace groaned, annoyed at her straying thought. Truly, she’d gone mad. They’d rested for just a few hours and set off once more. She had been relieved to find a body of water away from the camp. While the men’s singing voices filled the night, she did the best she could to clean herself.
When she returned, half of them were asleep. Some moved toward the water. Bryce and Craig sat on the ground with Duncan around a fire. He did not look at her as she joined them. Bryce passed her some ale with a smile.
“I heard ye almost bested me friend here,” he complimented, jostling a bristling Duncan. Craig laughed and she couldn’t help but smile. “We could use a fighter like ye, aye.” Bryce continued in his jocular tone.
