He did not know what woke him, but suddenly, his eyes snapped open and every one of his senses was alert. He lay still in the pitch black, his ears straining. Then, he heard it—the unmistakable sound of stealthy movement nearby.
Reacting quickly, he rolled over, saw the flash of a blade arcing down towards him, and reached up to grab the arm of his would-be assassin. The blade halted inches from his neck. A fierce struggle then ensued in the darkness, punctuating it with panting and hisses as he and the murderous intruder battled blindly with each other.
But Ewan soon realized he was the stronger out of the two of them and managed to twist the other’s wrist. His assailant let out a sharp cry of pain and dropped the blade. Ewan quickly fell upon the shadowy figure and pinned it down to the floor next to the bed, kicking the blade aside as he did so.
What the hell was going on, he wondered as it dawned on him that he was battling a man much smaller and weaker than himself, someone who was gasping for breath now he was straddling him and practically sitting on his chest.
He moved his weight a little, not wishing to kill whoever it was before he could interrogate them. “Ye may as well stop strugglin’ and save yer strength. I have some questions tae beat out of ye before I kill ye,” he growled. But that only made the intruder fight all the harder. Nevertheless, it was remarkably easy for Ewan to keep him immobilized while he reached over and struck a light.
He held the candlestick above his captive’s face, which was obscured by a dark-colored woolen cap. A recent memory flashed into his mind as he wrenched it off—of the lad he had not recognized, dressed in an outsized uniform jacket, lurking in the ranks. The candlelight flickered, illuminating his captive, who still thrashed vainly beneath him.
“Who the hell are ye, ye sneaking, cowardly bast—” he snarled, then suddenly stopped, perplexed by the sight of the long golden plait which had fallen out from beneath the cap. “What the devil?” he exclaimed softly, staring down with amazement at the face of his attacker and doing a double take. “’Tis a lassie!”
When he had recovered from the initial shock of the revelation, his fury rose. “Who are ye and what d’ye mean by comin’ in here and trying tae kill me while I’m sleepin’?” Despite her terrified expression, he shook her roughly by the shoulder. “Tell me, damn ye!”
But she refused to answer and simply shook her head, her eyes wide with fear. Yet he glimpsed defiance there too. He leaned down menacingly, holding the flame of the candle near her face. She pulled back as far as she could, grimacing.
“Ye’d best tell me right now if ye wantae live,” he hissed, feeling a pang of guilt at threatening a woman.
But she just tried tae kill me!
Again, she shook her head, keeping her lips pursed. “All right, if that’s how ye wantae play it,” he told her, “I’ll offer ye a choice. Ye can either tell me what I wantae ken this minute, or I can drag ye outside and strike off yer head in front of me men.
“Or maybe ye’d prefer it if I left ye tae the mercy of me soldiers? I’m sure ye understand how dangerous a military camp can be fer a lassie. It wouldnae be a pleasant experience. Ah, ye dinnae like that idea, I see,” he said, nodding as her really quite remarkable eyes widened further with obvious terror. “Ye’re defiant, but ye dinnae wantae die, eh?”
“A-all r-right, I’ll m-make a deal with ye,” she suddenly burst out, her dulcet voice cracking with desperation. “I’ll t-tell ye what ye wantae ken if ye promise nae tae hurt me!”
Ewan placed the candlestick on the bed and leaned over her, one hand either side of her head, staring down into her luminous gray-green eyes. “That’s better. Nae that ye’re in any position tae dictate terms, but I agree nae tae hurt ye, as long as ye tell me thetruth. I’m interested tae hear what ye have tae say fer yersel’.” When she hesitated, he barked, “Come on then, I’m waitin’!”
She flinched, her fear almost palpable. Yet he spied the flash of defiance in her eyes again as she stuttered breathlessly, “A-all right, b-but give me a chance tae breathe, will ye? Ye’re squashin’ the life out of me.”
“Dinnae try anythin’,” he warned, shifting most of his body weight from her ribcage and waist to his arms as he hung above her. Pinned as she was between his thighs, Ewan was suddenly very conscious of her warmth and the smallness of her form beneath him.
“Thank ye,” she murmured, taking in deep breaths.
She’s polite for an assassin.
He let his eyes rake over her flawless complexion, heart-shaped chin, small, slightly turned-up nose, and full lips. He had to drag his eyes away from her fair tresses, which shimmered in the candlelight like the proverbial spun gold. She certainly looked an unlikely killer.
It went against the grain to treat a woman so roughly, but he knew it was necessary to continue to scare her to get the information out of her. He put his face close to hers and growled in a menacing tone, “Speak or face the consequences.”
“M-me name’s… Annie Dean. I come from the village yonder.” She pointed her eyes in a vaguely northerly direction.
“All right, Annie Dean, if that’s yer real name, which I doubt, who sent ye here and why?”
“A-a man, I d-dinnae ken his name, I n-never saw him before, but I met him in the inn in the village, and he offered me a good deal of money tae come here an’… seduce ye,” she stuttered.
Ewan, despite his anger, could not hold back the laughter that burst from him. “Seduce me? Ye have a bloody funny way of goin’ about it,” he said between his chuckles. “Is that what ye think seducing a man is, creepin’ up on him when he’s asleep and shovin’ a dagger in his throat?”
“Nay!” she protested, wriggling under him. “Of course, I dinnae. B-but?—”
“But what?”
“B-but I couldnae seduce ye because I couldnae get close enough.”
“And?”
“A-and the order was, if that f-failed… I was supposed tae kill ye instead.”
