Page 24 of A Rogue and a Noble Lass

“He will ken. Whisper it in his ear if ye must. He will die knowing that ye will be considered a hero in his own clan. What better revenge is there than that?”

Logan wrestled inside, but while he was thinking, he noticed a few enemy soldiers heading towards Ryan, clearly wanting the glory of his scalp. Donal was being held back by a cluster of guards, and he was directing other soldiers to rally around Ryan, but all of them were preoccupied.

“Watch Beitris,” he said to Brody and proceeded to head towards Ryan with a determined look in his eyes.

A sword was thrust towards Ryan. It headed straight for his shoulder and might have taken his arm as the blow was given with such force. Logan thrust his sword out at the last moment, deflecting the blow. He turned his wrists and took advantage of the extra force, for the enemy soldier had been unable to regain his balance. Logan’s sword drove up into the man’s throat, and blood oozed out of his mouth.

Logan found himself fighting side by side with the man he had sworn to kill. The irony was not lost on him, but nobody else was going to take Ryan Knox’s life. It belonged to him.

“I thought I told ye tae watch over Beitris,” Ryan grunted, still a formidable warrior even though the prime of his youth was far in the past.

“Would ye rather I leave ye tae these mongrels?” Logan replied.

Together they pushed back two warriors and fought valiantly until the enemies thinned. Ryan turned to him and clasped his shoulder.

“Ye hae my thanks. I will gae and help Donal. Return tae Beitris, please,” Ryan said.

He turned his back. Logan gripped his sword. He could have easily plunged the blade into Ryan’s back, but the moment passed. He kept telling himself that it was because he needed Ryan to know who he was and why he was doing this, yet the more he told himself this, the more hollow it seemed.

When Logan turned, his eyes widened in horror.

“Logan, come, it’s the lead raider!” Beitris cried, sheathing her bow and drawing her sword, seemingly eager to put her new talents into practice.

Logan groaned inwardly and followed, regretting that he’d ever taught her these dark skills.

“I thought I told ye tae keep an eye on her,” Logan cried out to Brody, who merely shrugged.

“I took my eye off her for one minute and she charges ahead,” he said.

“Yield now and tell us where Warnock is, otherwise I shall fire an arrow through yer heart,” Beitris said, brandishing her sword in front of the raider.

Logan knew the man she was facing. Mikkel was said that he was descended from Vikings. He was taller than any other man on the battlefield, with flaming hair and broad shoulders that were packed with muscle. Beitris looked tiny compared to him. He wielded a battleaxe, the handle of which looked as thick as a tree trunk.

“I will never yield,” he said, then cackled with laughter.

He bore down on Beitris and swung his axe. She barely managed to raise her sword in time. Logan cringed. He was already running at full pelt and feared that he would have to watch her perish.

The intensity and rawness of this emotion took him by surprise, but in that moment all of his denial was stripped away and there was nothing left but his purest intentions.

Mikkel raised his axe again. The first blow had staggered Beitris, and she didn’t look as though she would recover in time. Logan threw himself forward and extended his sword. It was just long enough to block the blow.

Mikkel snarled and directed his ire onto Logan. Logan was unbalanced and tried his best to get his feet to move properly, but then an arm came crashing around and slammed against his chin and throat.

His neck snapped back and he gargled. A hand was then clamped around his throat and he was lifted off the ground, gasping for breath. The sword slipped from his hand.

“Let him gae!” Beitris screamed.

Mikkel held Logan in one hand and his axe in the other, fending off Beitris’ wild and clumsy strikes. Logan’s hood was in the process of slipping off his face. He watched Beitris out of the corner of his eye. Her emotions were making her forget her training.

Mikkel squeezed tighter and tighter. Logan felt his eyes bulging, as though they were about to pop from their sockets. He was shaken about in the air, and the hood slipped away.

Mikkel stared at him, furrowing his brow.

“I ken ye,” he said, and then chuckled. “Ach, Warnock’s been looking for his blood—”

Mikkel was silenced as a clod of mud slammed into his face.

Mikkel lost his grip on Logan, who dropped to the ground, gasping for breath. He turned around, the hood falling over his head again. Mikkel staggered back, clawing at his mouth, nose, and eyes to get rid of the dirt. He swung his axe in front of him. Brody leaped in alongside Beitris, and together the two of them took the fight to Mikkel, pressing him so that he did not have a moment’s respite.