The Knights of Christmas by Suzanne Barclay Page B

“I’ll tell you what I know, but you are not riding out to fight. No matter what.”
    â€œFight? What of your notion to sign a treaty with them?”
    Duncan looked across the hut to Mairi. The dimness couldn’t hide her cut lip or the bruises on her throat. Worse was the lingering horror in her face and that of her small daughter. “The MacGorys have less honor than the Infidels. Nor do I think men who torture old people and rape children are the sort to keep their word,” he muttered.
    â€œI’m glad you see that, but how are we to stop them?”
    â€œI’m not certain, yet.”
    â€œBut you have a plan.”
    â€œAn idea.” It was sneaky and devious, unworthy of a Crusader knight, but he realized that some things went beyond honor. He only hoped God would understand what he was about to do.
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    Next morning, Kara stood atop the pass and watched the sun rise above the mountains. Its long, golden fingers stretched across the plain, dancing on the ripples in the river. The snow had melted, but a heavy frost the previous night left the grass sparkling as though sprinkled with fairy dust. High above, a hawk wheeled and banked in search of a stray mouse. On the riverbank, another, more subtle type of hunt was underway.
    â€œHave they taken the bait?” Fergie muttered.
    Kara whirled. “You’re supposed to be resting.”
    â€œAnd how would a man do that, with the life of his clan at stake?” His face was gray, but his eyes crackled with vitality.
    â€œDuncan will not let us down.” Her gaze went to the men working on the far side of the river.
    â€™Twas easy to spot Duncan, his dark head rising above her red-maned clansmen. Stripped to the waist despite the chill, they busily cleared the brush and trees from the bank. Another party of men used the green timber to fashion a palisade. Once up, it would prevent anyone from approaching the water and make it doubly difficult to sneak up on the pass.
    At least Duncan hoped the MacGorys were canny enough to figure that out. He wanted to push them into making a move, into taking a chance on attacking the seemingly vulnerable work party.
    â€œDo you think they’ll come?” she asked.
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    â€œAye. Our men look like a bunch of dumb, frightened sheep. Why ye cannot even see anyone standing guard to sound the alarm. What wolf could resist such easy prey?”
    â€œIndeed.” Kara looked over her shoulder at the spiny ridge of the mountains. Nothing stirred on the cliff face, yet behind every boulder hid a bowman. All part of Duncan’s plan. What if it didn’t work? What if the MacGorys came in such numbers that they overwhelmed the men working in the open?
    â€œEasy, lass, ye’re shaking like a leaf in a storm.”
    â€œI’m afraid.” She chafed the gooseflesh on her arms, her gaze swinging back to Duncan.
    â€œYe love him, do ye not?”
    â€œWith all my heart.”
    â€œAnd what of yon knight? He was that eager to be away when we first took him in, but he fits in right well now.”
    â€œHe’s had a hard life, Fergie, orphaned at ten, raised by a cousin who despised him. He’s found happiness here with us. When this business with the MacGorys is settled, he plans to ask if we may wed,” she added shyly.
    â€œAh.” Fergie lifted her off her feet and hugged her. “I hoped ’twould come to that.” Setting her down, he wiped his eyes on his tunic sleeve.
    â€œWhat is it?”
    â€œI’m happy for ye, that’s all. I’ll not rest easy till I know my wee lass is settled with a good man.” But he avoided looking at her, which wasn’t like Fergie at all.
    â€œDoes your chest pain you?”
    â€œNay.”
    Unease prickled her skin. “Fergie, what is it?”
    â€œNaught,” he said quickly. Too quickly. Suddenly he straightened. Shielding his eyes, he stared over the plain toward the hills