The Raven's Moon by Susan King

later, with food and drink," she said, and stepped toward the door.
    Despite the pain when he moved, Rowan shot out a hand to grab at her ankle, yanking. She fell to her hands and knees with a smack and a grunt. He pulled her toward him best he could, though she seemed to be two girls, then one, and two again.
    "Let go," she gasped. He did not.
    "Tell me why you rode me down," he growled, keeping hold of her ankle in its leather boot. He did not want her to know that hanging onto her slender leg took all his strength.
    She smacked at his arm, twisted, but he held firm.
    "Who are you? Answer me true."
    "My Border kinsmen will hang you if you harm me!"
    "You are as much a Border lass as I am," he snapped, suddenly realizing why her voice was distinctive—he knew that accent. "Why does a Highland lass ride a Lowland road in the night, attacking a traveler for his coin and his horse!"
    She stopped hitting him and stared. A strand of hair slipped across her eyes. She blew at it irritably.
    "Horse? Highlander?" she asked almost innocently.
    "You, my lass, are a Highlander," he said. "And a highway thief. You attacked me. Tell me why."
    She twisted to pull away, but he tightened his grip. Kicked by her free foot, he blocked the blow; two, then four feet came at him, and he hit them all aside.
    "Tell me!" he roared. He thought his skull would split.
    She glared at him. "I am no thief."
    "You broke my head, thief, but I will break your ankle like a dry twig or have the truth from you now. Who are you?"
    "My cousins are Kerrs," she gasped out. "And my friends are Armstrongs. And you are a dead man for this deed."
    "I ought to be a dead man for the head crack you gave me." He tugged on her leg. "Kerrs or Armstrongs, I suspect your first wee word was a Gaelic one. You speak Scots like a Highlander, soft, with a rhythm. You said your name was Mairi, in the Gaelic, not Mary, as in English."
    She grunted to twist away, but he held fast and dragged her back toward him. She flipped to her belly.
    "Let go," she said. "It hurts."
    "Tell me your game," he demanded. She nodded.
    He released her then, and she scrambled away to sit against the wall, rubbing her ankle, sending him acid little glances from beneath her slender brows.
    "I should have tied your hands and feet," she muttered.
    "No doubt." He leaned against stone and closed his eyes against seeing that beautiful, accusing, fetching face.
    His head spun and he thought again he might vomit or black out. He sucked in cool air until the feeling passed.
    She was silent, thank God, long enough for him to gain his senses again. He sent what he hoped was a steady gaze.
    "Well?" he asked again. "Why did you ride into the bog?"
    "I wanted something from you," she said.
    "You have twenty pounds Scots silver, a sword with an Irish hilt, two wheel-lock pistols, a lance, a latchbow, and a good steel bonnet. And a Galloway horse as fine as any I will ever see again."
    "You will have them all back again," she said.
    "I had better," he grunted.
    "I do not want your silver or your gear."
    "Then what?" He hoped she would answer. He had no more strength to force her.
    "I wanted—to know who you were," she said.
    "Why?"
    She looked away. The braid whipped over her shoulder, a streak of red fire and deep gloss. "I just needed to know."
    "You have the writ. Now you know. So who ransoms me?" He narrowed his eyes. "Are you kin to Simon Kerr?" he asked then. "His daughter? Or his leman?"
    She lifted her chin and radiated icy silence. He waited.
    "Who is your own family, Mairi o' the Highlands?"
    "Why did the king's council send you here?" she countered. "Are there other papers?"
    "What interest do you have in that?"
    "What orders did the council give you?"
    "You have some quarrel with me, though I had none with you," he said. "Though I do now."
    "We have more quarrel than you can guess," she said through tightened lips.
    He wondered how long he could continue this polite conversation before he had to lean over