Page 34 of Highlander Lord Of Vengeance

Everything stopped—music, laughter, the clatter of cups—held in a breathless pause. Then it shattered.

From the shadows, warriors lunged, steel gleaming in the firelight. Shouts erupted, benches toppled, and the joyful feast turned into a snare. Torrance’s blade was in hand before the first blow came, and he met it with savage precision.

His eyes swept the room… Esme.

She stood near the table, his warriors drawing in to shield her, but too many enemies were between them now. Too many blades. He saw the shift, the tightening of the trap, and knew, in that instant, he would reach her too late if he didn’t?—

He vaulted up on a table, food, bowls, and tankards flying as he kicked them out of his way. He swung his sword, striking down all who tried to stop him with swift, precise slices.

He reached her as a sword arced toward her side.

With a powerful shove, Torrance slammed Esme back against the stone wall, his arm barring her from moving, hisbody shielding hers as he blocked the strike with his sword and finished the warrior with one thrust.

“Stay behind me,” he growled, his voice thick with fury.

She couldn’t speak. Her breath was caught in her throat, her eyes wide with fear as warriors bore down on them. They would not survive this. They would die here today.

The firelight glinted off drawn blades. The hall echoed with screams, the clash of steel, the scent of blood rising like smoke?—

Then the heavy doors of the Great Hall burst open.

CHAPTER 10

The heavy doors slammed against the stone walls with a thunderous crash and in poured Torrance’s warriors like a raging storm. Their roars echoed off the stone walls as steel clashed and bodies slammed into each other. The hall erupted into chaos.

Torrance kept Esme pressed against the wall, his broad frame shielding her from every angle.

A warrior lunged toward them and Torrance pivoted and drove a blade into his gut before the man even raised his arm. Another came from the side, but one of Torrance’s men intercepted him, the clash of swords sparking just feet away.

Esme barely breathed, her heart pounding wildly, her head pressed against the stone wall, and the sounds of battle echoing in her ears. Cries of pain, grunts of effort, the dull thud of bodies falling, all blurred together. And then, as swiftly as it had started, it ended.

Silence settled like smoke in the aftermath.

Torrance's men stood victorious, their weapons slick with blood, the few remaining enemy warriors disarmed and forced to their knees.

Only then did Torrance turn to Esme. “Are you harmed?”

“Nay,” she said, shaking her head and quickly reached to take hold of his arm.

Before she could, he pulled her into his arms, tucking her tightly against his side.

“You tremble,” he whispered. “Are you sure you are all right?”

“I have never been in the midst of battle before, seen so many men fall, or heard the cries of pain and death. It is quite unsettling.”

“Battle is no place for a woman. You did well,” he said, anger burning in his eyes for what she went through. “You will remain strong and by my side while I see to this.”

Stunned that he complimented her for doing well, being strong, rather than berate her for being weak, she barely managed to say, “Aye, my lord.”

Silent and with fierce anger in his eyes, Torrance led her across the hall to the high table on the dais. He helped her into a chair, then took the seat beside her, his presence commanding the room.

“Bring Stuart to me,” he bellowed, his voice hard as steel.

The disgraced chieftain was dragged forward, bloodied but alive, shoulders hunched as he was forced to kneel before the dais, before Torrance.

A heavy silence fell over the Great Hall, everyone waiting, yet knowing that Stuart would be drawn and quartered today, Torrance’s favorite punishment.

Torrance leaned forward, eyes narrowing. “If this had been done to you, an ambush in your hall, your wife threatened, what punishment would you demand?”

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