Malcolm'S Honor (Historical, 519) by Jillian Hart

lead the knights, so certain of his superiority.
    The wind turned cold, and rain scented the air. They rode two miles ere the first drop fell, but it was not cold enough to cool her fury.
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    Malcolm could taste the danger like wine upon his tongue and hear it like the flicker of the wind in his ears. He rode at the lead, his senses honed, and trusted the instincts that had served him well.
    Men were out there, he had no doubt, even if he could not hear man or beast hidden within the woods. Gray rain fell in heavy sheets from sky to earth, diminishing his view of the long road ahead.
    Bandits, mayhap. Thieves lying in wait. There were many valuable treasures in the carts, gifts from the king,and not just weapons. He heeded his instincts and remained vigilant.
    Evening slipped away and there was still no sign of attack. Malcolm did not like the eerie feeling of danger, however, so they rode without a break until the rain stopped and midnight neared. Only once had he turned in his saddle, to see Elin glaring at him, riding alongside Giles, who watched her with suspicion. The knight had not forgiven her for the poisoning.
    â€œDo you feel it, too?” Ian rode close.
    â€œAye. We’re being watched.”
    â€œAn ambush, then?”
    â€œWorse.” Bandits would wait in the road for a traveler, hide, then strike. They would not follow this long. “Edward said he sent Caradoc straight to Ravenwood, under armed guard.”
    â€œI saw him leave with Sir Matlock and Duncan the Brave.” Ian, too, kept his gaze vigilant.
    â€œFine knights.” And steadfastly loyal to Edward. That gave Malcolm some consolation. He’d prefer not to have a second battle with Edward’s nephew. “Mayhap I have made other enemies.”
    â€œâ€™Tis certain.” Elin spoke up, riding at his flank. “But I would wager my freedom that Caradoc’s men are the ones who wait to attack.”
    Suspicion clamped hard around his guts. “You admit knowledge of his plans?”
    â€œI admit to knowing his vindictive nature.”
    His teeth clacked as he clamped his jaw shut. She could feel his anger like the hot lick of a flame. Though the waxing moon was hidden behind low clouds, the veil of night did not seem to touch Malcolm.
    He rode ahead of her, gleaming in the dark, as lethal asthe sword at his hip. And still his displeasure lingered. He did not like taking her as his wife.
    Good. Then perchance they need not make this marriage real, after all. If she worked with him against any threat from Caradoc, then mayhap he would let her go. Her heart warmed with embers of hope.
    â€œThere!” Malcolm’s voice rose with a call to arms the same instant the clouds above parted and the heavens illuminated the approaching enemy.
    Elin heard the strike of hooves upon the rocky road, the rasp of steel unsheathed and the terrifying blood cries of warriors launching into battle. Her palfrey shifted beneath her, suddenly nervous. She tightened the reins, putting pressure on the bit. All around her, the night came alive with moving shadows in the forms of lunging men and beasts.
    â€œDeath to you, le Farouche!” A threat rang above the noises of battle.
    â€œAnd to you, villain,” the great knight answered, without a fleck of fear in his voice.
    Well, she was afraid. Steel swords rang with each impact, and sparks flared. The faint flicker briefly illuminated Malcolm’s face. Hard as stone he was. And astride his giant destrier, he fought two men who challenged him. He blocked two blows and then felled one enemy with a swift, skilled strike.
    Elin saw Giles, practically at her elbow, lift his sword against two men. She spied a third villain approach, intending to run him through from behind. Giles’s attention was focused on the two he fought. He could not see the danger! She dropped to the ground, cursing her own foolishness. Her fingers crept along the earth and seized a good-size rock.