Forbidden by Elizabeth Lowell Page B

it.”
    “Exactly,” Erik said. “So greet Duncan as your equal. Don't fear him for what he has gone through. It is his future that matters, and that future lies with me.”
    There was silence while Erik looked from knight to knight. All knights save Simon nodded, accepting Duncan as Erik already had. Simon simply shrugged as though it were no great matter to him either way.
    Amber let out a long, soundless sigh. She knew that rumors of a strange man under her care had rippled through the countryside in the past twelve days. Still, Erik had taken a great risk in springing Duncan's lost past on his knights so baldly. They might easily have turned against Duncan and driven him out as a tool of dark sorcery.
    As though hearing Amber's fretful thoughts, Erik winked at her, silently reminding her that he was quite skillful at predicting how men would react.
    “Let us see what we have in the way of fighting men,” Erik said. “Alfred, have you tested Simon's skill yourself?”
    “No, lord.”
    Erik turned to Duncan. “Would you like to hold sword in hand again?”
    “Aye!”
    “Nay!” Amber said just as quickly. “You are still healing from the sickness that—”
    “Leave off,” Erik interrupted curtly. “ 'Tis no true battle I'm proposing, but merely an exercise.”
    “But—”
    “My knights and I must know the mettle of the men who will fight by our sides,” he said, ignoring her attempt to interrupt.
    A look at Erik's topaz eyes told Amber that arguments would be futile. Yet she spoke again anyway.
    “Duncan has no sword.”
    With a casual grace that spoke of skill and strength combined, Erik drew his own sword and offered it to Duncan.
    “Use mine,” Erik said.
    It wasn't a request.
    “It would be an honor,” Duncan said. The instant Duncan grasped the sword, a subtle change came over him. It was as though a veil had been lifted, revealing the warrior poised beneath the richly dressed exterior of the man. The weapon gleamed and sliced through the air with wicked sounds as Duncan tried the blade's balance and reach.
    Erik watched Duncan and wanted to laugh aloud with sheer pleasure. Amber had been right. Duncan was indeed a warrior among warriors, first among equals.
    “A fine weapon,” Duncan said after a minute. “Quite the finest I've ever held. I shall try to do it honor.”
    “Simon?” Erik asked blandly.
    “I have my own sword, sir.”
    “Then out with it, man. Tis past time to hear the music of steel on steel!”
    Simon's blade-thin smile made Amber bite her lip anxiously. While Donald and Malcolm weren't as skilled as some of Erik's other knights, they were courageous, strong, dogged fighters. And Simon had defeated both of them with ease.
    “No blood, no broken bones,” Erik said abruptly. “I simply want to see what manner of fighter you both are. Do you understand me?”
    Duncan and Simon nodded.
    “Shall we fight here?” Simon asked.
    “Down there. And afoot,” Erik added “Duncan's horse is no match for yours.”
    The battleground Erik had chosen was a meadow whose autumn stubble had been softened by rain. Beneath the thickening clouds, mist flickered like silver flames.
    Together, Duncan and Simon dismounted, cast mantles over their saddles, and walked to the meadow. The smell of sun-cured, rain-drenched stubble permeated the air. When they reached a relatively level, mud-free stretch of ground, they turned and faced each other.
    “I ask forgiveness for any wound I might give,” Simon said, “and offer the same for any I receive.”
    “Aye,” Duncan said. “I ask and offer the same.”
    Simon smiled and unsheathed his sword with a feline grace and speed that was as startling as the black finish on the blade.
    “You are very quick,” Duncan said.
    “And you are very strong.” Simon smiled oddly. “ 'Tis a battle I'm accustomed to.”
    “Are you? Not many men are as strong as I.”
    “My brother is. That is one of the two advantages I have over you