Page 34 of Wolf Alliance

“Archery. And the lady,” Hendrie said, his small chin held up high. “She needs it the most.”

“She does, does she? Does his lordship approve?” Rob asked Accalia.

“He does. He said we could do this. After what had happened while we were on a run, we need to prove we can protect ourselves when the time comes.”

“Aye.” Rob slapped another man on his back. “Come, let us teach the lads and lass some archery skills, Fenton.”

“Aye.”

They all headed to the inner bailey where a couple of older lads set up targets. And then Rob said, “Who wishes to go first?”

Accalia wanted the boys to go first, but they all pointed at her and smiled.

“I guess I’m going to go first.” Accalia took the bow. She nocked the arrow and shot at the circle on the target made of straw rolled in a large coil. She hadn’t used a bow for a couple of years so she was glad she had shot the arrow near the center. She glanced at the boys and their jaws hung slack.

She wanted to laugh. “Who is up next?”

“I’ll go,” Thorfinn said. He had a smaller bow designed for the lads and lasses who were beginners at learning archery.

Fenton helped him with his form and then Thorfinn hit the outer coil of the target. “Nay!” He stomped his foot, his brows furrowed. He sounded frustrated. Probably because Accalia had done so well, and she was just a lass.

But she had been practicing on and off since she was their age so she had been doing it for several years. “This is why we’re practicing. Rob or Fenton, can you show us how to hit the bullseye?”

“Aye.” Rob took up the bow and aimed and hit the bullseye.

Then Fenton did the same thing right next to Rob’s arrow.

“Hendrie? Johnne? Are you ready to practice?” she asked.

“Aye.” Hendrie lifted the smaller bow, and Rob showed him how to aim. Then Hendrie released his arrow and struck the target in the ring next to the outer ring by Thorfinn’s.

Thorfinn folded his arms across his chest, scowling. She needed to teach him to be a better sport when he wasn’t coming out on top.

Then Johnne went next and hit the halfway mark inside the target. Pumping the bow in the air, he shouted out with glee.

She was so proud of them. “Let’s go again.” One time wasn’t enough. They had to do it until they were too tired to hold their bow.

She kept wanting to look in the direction of the portcullis, to see if Erik and his men were arriving yet, but she didn’t want to worry the boys.

After an hour or more at practice, the boys sagged, but they had improved by the end. She glanced at the entryway to the inner bailey, worried that Erik and the others hadn’t returned. She didn’t want to concern the boys, but as soon as she looked in that direction, they did too.

Why hadn’t the men returned yet?

10

Erik raced back to where the brigands who had attacked Accalia, the boys, and their guard escort were. He listened for any sign of horses moving around in the woods, men’s voices, growling wolves, steel striking steel, and arrows whizzing through the trees. Birds tweeted a warning of Erik’s presence in the woods, and a breeze stirred the branches of the pines. He smelled the air for the scents of his men and those of their attackers, all gray wolves, though he thought they were in human form and knew they had gone in this direction.

His heart was pounding furiously. His wolf senses were enhanced and sharpened. The scent of blood and sweat permeated the air as Erik came across the body of a man lying prone in the bracken wearing three arrows—all were his brother Finlay’s. Erik was grateful the body belonged to one of the villains.

But then he heard swords clashing through the trees. He saw the glint of sunlight off a sword being swung at Finlay. Erik ran in his direction, plowing through bracken and low-hanging branches intent on helping his brother. When he got closer, he witnessed the terror in Finlay's eyes, and the alarm in the grizzled face attacker’s gaze when he saw Erik lunge for him.

Adrenaline and a healthy dose of fear emanated from his brother and his brother’s attacker before Erik reached the brigand. His muscles tensed as he readied himself to pounce. Finlay stabbed at the distracted brigand’s shoulder, drawing his attention back to his brother.

Erik leaped and slammed into the man, biting his sword arm before he could cut him. Bones crunched and the taste of copper filled Erik's mouth as he tasted the blood of his enemy, the taste of victory and justice.

Before he could grab the man’s throat and end his life, his brother pierced the villain’s heart with his sword. Pack members began howling or shouting. Logan howled, telling them to return to the castle.

Finlay wiped off his sword and sheathed it. “I could have handled him on my own.”

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