Page 48 of Bride of Fire
The familiar commands made them forget their quarrel and rush to the window.
In the courtyard, a row of four archers were shooting at a straw target. Morgan yelled out the orders again, and they let their arrows fly.
“Are they any good?” Feiyan murmured.
Jenefer watched with a critical eye. While Feiyan could be classified as a weapon in and of herself, and Hallie was deadly with a blade, Jenefer’s weapon of choice was the longbow. Neither of her cousins could come close to her skill.
“’Tis hard to gauge their marksmanship at this distance,” she said. “But two of them missed the target completely.”
“Aye? That bodes well for our uncle then.”
Jenefer wasn’t so sure. “Bethac said there were eight, aye? Their best archers may already be posted atop the wall.”
“Ah. Right.”
They shot again. Their form was flawed. One of them jerked as he released the bowstring. Another pulled to the left. And one of them didn’t even have the strength to draw the bow back fully.
“Again!” Morgan yelled.
She narrowed her eyes at the Highlander. He might have a loud bellow and a firm hand. But he didn’t know the first thing about archery.
“If I were in charge,” she mused, “I’d have those archers hitting the target every time.”
Feiyan grew bored and left the window.
Jenefer watched for another hour, longing all the while to feel her own bow in her hands. She wondered if anyone had yet retrieved her weapon from the woods.
Soon her stomach began complaining again. How long would it be, she mused, before someone brought food to them?
She glanced over her shoulder at Feiyan, who was lying on the bed, staring up at the ceiling. She looked like she was daydreaming. But Jenefer knew Feiyan was probably devising a plan of attack. Though her cousin could be bothersome sometimes, there was no one Jenefer would rather have by her side in a battle.
But it had begun to look like there wasn’t going to be a battle today. The sun had moved halfway across the cloud-strewn sky, and there was still no sign of Rivenloch.
Finally, Feiyan voiced what they both were thinking.
“Damn it, they should have been here by now.”
Chapter 25
Several hours later, Morgan was fairly confident the army of Rivenloch was not coming—at least not today. He entered the crowded great hall for supper after a long day of drilling the archers.
The clan had performed admirably. His knights were ready for war. His servants had followed instructions swiftly and with efficiency, despite Bethac’s absence. Even the children had helped prepare for siege.
A siege that had never come. Which was for the best. He didn’t want war with the neighbors.
If the king’s messenger arrived on the morrow, there would be no need for a confrontation at all. He could substantiate his claim and return the Warrior Daughters to their laird. That would be the end of it.
He washed his hands in the basin of water near the screened end of the hall, drying them on the linen cloth one of the maidservants offered.
There was still one complication. Where the devil was Colban? And where was the lass he’d gone after? Without her, any encounter with the Laird of Rivenloch would be volatile indeed, for the laird was sure to blame Morgan for her disappearance.
He didn’t relish breaking the news to the fiery lass upstairs. Indeed, he’d half hoped Rivenlochwouldcome today so he could banish the winsome, troublesome hellion from his household. Even if purging her from his mind might take a bit longer.
Finding his seat at the high table, he looked down at his cup of ale and smirked. Jenefer had half choked on their strong brew. Like everything else here, the Lowland ale was probably a diluted version of the Highland’s, with all the roughness smoothed away.
Except for Jenefer. She definitely had jagged edges. Like a thistle, she was a lovely flower above with thorny spikes beneath.
He glowered into his cup. Why the lass haunted his thoughts, he didn’t know. But he felt it wasn’t right.
