“Damn, Bloodstone,” bellowed the flute-playing soldier. “Even with a broken leg, Thornebow danced with your girl betterthan you!”
Riyan snapped his head toward the soldiers. If looks could kill, they would have all been decapitated.
Riyan held back his wrath for my sake, but the nice evening he had planned turned sour quickly. I drummed my fingers on his muscular shoulder and smirked. Riyan just needed to remind his soldiers who he was and they wouldplay nicely.
“You know, Riyan,” I said, “I think you have been a gentlemanlong enough.”
Riyan looked back at me and raised hiseyebrow. “Really?”
I batted my eyelashes and smiled. “I missmy brute.”
Riyan flashed me a wicked smile and then gently lowered me to the dirt. He shot the trio of soldiers a devious look and their eyes all went wide. In half a second, the strongest, fastest man in the world pounced and took on all three of them in a flurry of fists and limbs. Riyan beat them while shouting every swear word I had ever heard, some I had not, and some I was sure hemade up.
I bent over and held my belly as I laughed. The men attempted to grapple with Riyan, but he bested them all even while outnumbered. Riyan knocked the captain and the lanky soldier on their asses and then dangled the round-faced soldier upside-down byhis ankle.
“Nowwhatdid you say about Thornebow and my girl?” Riyan asked with a low voice and apredatory smile.
“All right, you bastard son of a boar, I give up!” cried the soldier. “We have an offering! Webrought grog!”
Riyan’s eyes lit up at the mention of whatever grog was. He plopped the soldier on the ground and the other two soldiers handed him a huge glass bottle of mysteriousbrown liquid.
“Your liquid courage,sir,” the captain said with sarcasm dripping off hislast word.
Riyan gestured at the soldiers with the bottle. “If one of you pissed in this again, I’ll tear your arms off.” He took abig swig.
The three soldiers scrambled to get their instruments back as Riyan drank. Riyan lowered the bottle from his lips and handed it to the captain, who took adrink himself.
“All right, let’s fix this,” Riyan said. “No more of that pretty-boy shit. Play the song about the Man ofthe Mountain.”
The Man of the Mountain. Legend had it a man took his bride to the top of Nordingaard to marry her, but she died along the way. He buried her at the top of the mountain and attempted to bring her back to life with magic. Skeptics said he died with her in the snow. Faithful believers in magic said he conqueredDeath itself.
But everyone could agree that whether dead, alive, or somewhere in between, the Man of the Mountain neverleft Nordingaard.
People of Ravenwood would plead to the mythical Man of the Mountain to save their own loved ones from Death, sang to him in the rain to get some of his magic, and built useless wells to make wishes in, hoping he wouldgrant them.
In the spring, all the villages hold festivals in honor of the Man of the Mountain where beautiful girls dance around a fire to his song, vying to be chosen as a replacement for the lost bride in the legend. I had always wanted to dance with the pretty girls when I was younger, and maybe even be chosen as that year’s bride, but Father had never let me. He hated the worship of the Man of the Mountain even more than the fanatical devotion to Ganora. Peasant nonsense, he called it. Nothing for a noble young lady toengage in.
Well, I was not a young lady under her father’s ownership anymore. I was the future Baroness of Bloodstone—and I wantedto dance.
Riyan walked over and stood in front of me on the dance floor. The captain shot Riyan a wink. With a flick of his bow, the captain played a lively, folksy tune. The other two soldiers joined in and stomped their feet tothe rhythm.
Riyan smirked as the music started up. “Watch this.”
The captain sang thefamiliar song.
“There once was a girl both smalland fair,
Had fire in her eyes andraven hair,
Stole my heart whiledancing there,
In the middle of thevillage square,”
Riyan danced for me. He did not move in the confined and prescribed steps of a ballroom dance, but instead the jovial and fluid motions I had seen at festivals. He had a wild look in his eyes as he danced, showing off the strength in his legs and the quickness of his feet. I laughed and clapped along as thesong continued.
“Come, girl, let’sjust run
To a place where we’llbe one
