her feet up to hook a knee over the branch, but not before the biggest gray wolf leaped up and grabbed a mouthful of her broad skirt. A lesser fabric might have ripped, but the thick velvet held fast.
Elspeth clung to the underside of the branch, which bowed under the additional weight. The wolf shook its whole body, like a terrier with a rat, trying to bring her down.
The bough creaked and popped, and she feared the limb might give way.
“Hang on!” Rob shouted and slashed, not at the wolf, but at the layers of her velvet skirt and chemise from which it was suspended. The beast fell to the ground with a yowl.
Elspeth scrambled and lifted herself to the upper side of the thick branch.
Another wolf leaped up, coming within finger-widths of her bare foot. She tucked it up and scuttled along the branch till she reached the trunk and stood upright, looping an arm around its comforting solidness.
One wolf continued to lunge and tried to scuffle up the trunk. Elspeth caught a whiff of his stinking breath as he snapped at her, but unless he sprouted wings, she was out of reach.
“Whatever happens, dinna come down till I say,” Rob ordered as the pack turned its attention from her to the man on the prime piece of horseflesh.
The wolves formed a ring of snarling muzzles around Rob and Falin. Their breath rose in a haze, like a smoke ring from a giant’s pipe. Elspeth counted fifteen big beasts with several smaller ones hanging back in the deeper shadows, yipping encouragement.
Rob pivoted the snorting stallion in a tight circle, so he could keep an eye on the restive crowd. The wolves called to one another, coordinating their coming attack. The sound raked Elspeth’s spine like a claw. The unholy chorus rose and then stopped suddenly, as if the song was a thread snipped off with shears.
“Come, ye sons of bitches!” Rob growled into the sudden silence. “If ye want us, ye must take us. I give ye worm-eaten bastards leave to try!”
Elspeth had seen fearsome things in the hall of dreams. The Sight had sometimes taken her repeatedly to the aftermath of a great battle of some sort, and she woke from such bloody visions sickened to her soul. But she’d never seen anything as terrifying as the sudden attacking leap of the wolves on this man and his horse.
They came in waves, snarling and snapping. One managed to land on the stallion’s back behind Rob, going for his unprotected neck. Falin screamed and reared, lashing out with his hooves, and the wolf slid off, raking the stallion’s flanks with his claws. Rob’s blade sang a song of blood and whipped around to shear off the beast’s head.
Falin’s kicks sent a few wolves flying as Rob laid about with his claymore. Man and horse, they fought in concert. They fought for their lives.
As the battle wore on, Falin stumbled on fallen wolf carcasses but managed to keep his feet. The ground was black with blood. Rob roared as he slashed his blade, sounding as wild and vicious as any four-legged predator.
The numbers of the pack dwindled. As the eastern sky lightened to pearl gray, hope rose in Elspeth’s heart.
Then the largest wolf charged and leaped. His flying lunge knocked Rob from Falin’s back. They rolled together, tooth and claw, man and blade, off the path and into the thick underbrush, disappearing in a growling, swearing mass.
Chapter 6
Lachlan Drummond and Alistair Stewart reined their horses to a halt at the top of the rise. The sun eased over the southeastern hills, but it promised no additional warmth. The day was breaking cold and bitter as a spinster’s bed.
“This is the last place we spotted them,” Drummond said, scouring the valley from south to north. A light frost painted each leaf and blade of grass with a crust of white. “They weren’t that far ahead of us at that point. Then once we reached here, they were nowhere to be seen. We headed south, thinking he’d try to confuse us by the river.”
Stewart frowned at him and glared in
Elspeth clung to the underside of the branch, which bowed under the additional weight. The wolf shook its whole body, like a terrier with a rat, trying to bring her down.
The bough creaked and popped, and she feared the limb might give way.
“Hang on!” Rob shouted and slashed, not at the wolf, but at the layers of her velvet skirt and chemise from which it was suspended. The beast fell to the ground with a yowl.
Elspeth scrambled and lifted herself to the upper side of the thick branch.
Another wolf leaped up, coming within finger-widths of her bare foot. She tucked it up and scuttled along the branch till she reached the trunk and stood upright, looping an arm around its comforting solidness.
One wolf continued to lunge and tried to scuffle up the trunk. Elspeth caught a whiff of his stinking breath as he snapped at her, but unless he sprouted wings, she was out of reach.
“Whatever happens, dinna come down till I say,” Rob ordered as the pack turned its attention from her to the man on the prime piece of horseflesh.
The wolves formed a ring of snarling muzzles around Rob and Falin. Their breath rose in a haze, like a smoke ring from a giant’s pipe. Elspeth counted fifteen big beasts with several smaller ones hanging back in the deeper shadows, yipping encouragement.
Rob pivoted the snorting stallion in a tight circle, so he could keep an eye on the restive crowd. The wolves called to one another, coordinating their coming attack. The sound raked Elspeth’s spine like a claw. The unholy chorus rose and then stopped suddenly, as if the song was a thread snipped off with shears.
“Come, ye sons of bitches!” Rob growled into the sudden silence. “If ye want us, ye must take us. I give ye worm-eaten bastards leave to try!”
Elspeth had seen fearsome things in the hall of dreams. The Sight had sometimes taken her repeatedly to the aftermath of a great battle of some sort, and she woke from such bloody visions sickened to her soul. But she’d never seen anything as terrifying as the sudden attacking leap of the wolves on this man and his horse.
They came in waves, snarling and snapping. One managed to land on the stallion’s back behind Rob, going for his unprotected neck. Falin screamed and reared, lashing out with his hooves, and the wolf slid off, raking the stallion’s flanks with his claws. Rob’s blade sang a song of blood and whipped around to shear off the beast’s head.
Falin’s kicks sent a few wolves flying as Rob laid about with his claymore. Man and horse, they fought in concert. They fought for their lives.
As the battle wore on, Falin stumbled on fallen wolf carcasses but managed to keep his feet. The ground was black with blood. Rob roared as he slashed his blade, sounding as wild and vicious as any four-legged predator.
The numbers of the pack dwindled. As the eastern sky lightened to pearl gray, hope rose in Elspeth’s heart.
Then the largest wolf charged and leaped. His flying lunge knocked Rob from Falin’s back. They rolled together, tooth and claw, man and blade, off the path and into the thick underbrush, disappearing in a growling, swearing mass.
Chapter 6
Lachlan Drummond and Alistair Stewart reined their horses to a halt at the top of the rise. The sun eased over the southeastern hills, but it promised no additional warmth. The day was breaking cold and bitter as a spinster’s bed.
“This is the last place we spotted them,” Drummond said, scouring the valley from south to north. A light frost painted each leaf and blade of grass with a crust of white. “They weren’t that far ahead of us at that point. Then once we reached here, they were nowhere to be seen. We headed south, thinking he’d try to confuse us by the river.”
Stewart frowned at him and glared in
Similar Books
