Morrigan's Cross
Page 33
She turned, saw King filling the doorway. “I guess we could call it nesting.”
“Hell of a nest.”
“I was thinking the same. And I’m glad you’re here. You’re just the man I need.”
“You and every other woman. What’ve you got in mind?”
“Practicalities. You’ve been here before, right?”
“Yeah, a couple times.”
“Where are the weapons?” When his eyebrows shot up, she spread her arms. “Those pesky items required for fighting wars—or so I’ve heard, since this would be my first war. I know I’d feel better if I had a couple of howitzers handy.”
“Don’t think the boss runs to those.”
“What does he run to?”
He considered. “What you got going in here?”
She glanced toward the crystals. “Just some things I’ve set around for protection, courage, creativity and so on. This struck me as a good place to strategize. A war room. What?” she said when his lips curved in a wide grin.
“Guess you’re on to something.” He walked over to a wall of books, ran his big fingers along the carved trim.
“You’re not going to tell me there’s a... secret panel,” she finished with a delighted laugh when the wall swiveled out.
“Place is full of ’em.” King pushed the wall completely around before she could peek through the gap. “I don’t know as he’d want you poking around in the passages. But you said weapons.” He gestured. “You got weapons.”
Swords, axes, maces, daggers, scythes. Every manner of blade hung gleaming on the exposed wall. There were crossbows, long bows, even what she thought was a trident.
“That’s just a little bit scary,” she declared, but stepped forward to take down a small dagger.
“Little advice,” King began. “You use something like that, whatever’s coming for you is going to have to get real close before it does you any good.”
“Good point.” She replaced the dagger, took down a sword. “Wow. Heavy.” She replaced it, took down what she thought would be termed a foil. “Better.”
“You got any idea how to use that?”
“Hack, hack, hack, jab, jab?” She gave it a testing swing, found herself surprised she liked the feel of it. “Okay, no. Not a clue. Someone will have to teach me.”
“Do you think you could slice through flesh with that?” Cian spoke as he came in the room. “Strike bone, spill blood?”
“I don’t know.” She lowered the sword. “I’m afraid I’m going to have to find out. I saw what she was, what she did, what she has with her. I’m not going into this with only potions and spells. And I’m sure as hell not going to stand there and go eek if she tries to bite me.”
“You can wound them with that, slow them down. But you won’t kill, you won’t stop them unless you use it to cut off the head.”
With a grimace she studied the slender blade, then resigned, put it back, took down the heavier sword.
“Swinging that around takes a great deal of strength.”
“Then I’ll get strong, strong enough.”
“Muscle’s not the only kind of strength you’ll need.”
She kept her gaze level. “I’ll get strong enough. You know how to use this. You and Hoyt, and you,” she said to King. “If you think I’m going to sit back, stirring a cauldron when it comes time to fight, think again. I wasn’t brought here so I could have men protect me. I wasn’t given this gift to be a coward.”
“Me,” King said with that wide grin in place again, “I like a woman with grit.”
Gripping the hilt with both hands, she sliced the air with the blade. “So. When’s my first lesson?”
Hoyt descended the stairs. He tried not to mourn what was changed, what was gone. He would get back, back to his true home, back to his family, and his life.
He would see the torches flaming on the walls again, smell his mother’s roses in the garden. And he would walk the cliffs beyond his own cottage in Chiarrai again, and know the world was free of the vermin that sought to destroy it.
He’d needed rest, that was all. Rest and solitude in a place he knew and understood. Now he would work, and he would plan. He was done with this sensation of being swept away into what he couldn’t understand.
Darkness had fallen, and those lights—those strange, harsh lights that came from electricity rather than fire—illuminated the house.
It irritated him that he found no one about, and could scent no supper cooking from the direction of the kitchen. It was time to be busy, and time the rest understood it was necessary to take the next steps.
A sound made him pause, then hiss out a breath. He followed the sound of clashing steel at a run. Then he swung toward where a doorway had been and cursed when he found sheer wall. He sprinted around it, and burst into the library where he saw his brother slashing a sword toward Glenna.
He didn’t think; didn’t hesitate. He punched his power toward Cian, and sent his sword spinning away to clatter on the floor. With her forward motion unblocked, Glenna sliced Cian’s shoulder.
“Well, shit.” Cian flicked a hand at the sword even as Glenna pulled it back in horror.
“Oh God! Oh my God. Is it bad? How bad?” She dropped her sword to rush forward.
“Back!” With another sweep of power, Hoyt had Glenna tumbling back and landing on her ass. “You want blood?” Hoyt plucked up Glenna’s discarded sword. “Come then, get mine.”
King grabbed a sword from the wall, slapped the blade against Hoyt’s. “Back off, magic boy. Now.”
“Don’t interfere,” Cian said to King. “Step away.” Slowly, Cian picked up his own sword, met Hoyt’s eyes. “You tempt me.”
“Stop it! Stop it this minute. What the hell’s wrong with you?” Regardless of the blades, Glenna pushed between the brothers. “I’ve stabbed him, for God’s sake. Let me see.”
“He attacked you.”
“He did not. He was giving me a lesson.”
“It’s nothing.” With his gaze still burning into Hoyt’s, Cian nudged Glenna aside. “Shirt’s ruined, and it’s the second I’ve trashed on your account. If I’d wanted her blood, I wouldn’t take it with a sword, waste it. But for yours, I could make an exception.”
“Hell of a nest.”
“I was thinking the same. And I’m glad you’re here. You’re just the man I need.”
“You and every other woman. What’ve you got in mind?”
“Practicalities. You’ve been here before, right?”
“Yeah, a couple times.”
“Where are the weapons?” When his eyebrows shot up, she spread her arms. “Those pesky items required for fighting wars—or so I’ve heard, since this would be my first war. I know I’d feel better if I had a couple of howitzers handy.”
“Don’t think the boss runs to those.”
“What does he run to?”
He considered. “What you got going in here?”
She glanced toward the crystals. “Just some things I’ve set around for protection, courage, creativity and so on. This struck me as a good place to strategize. A war room. What?” she said when his lips curved in a wide grin.
“Guess you’re on to something.” He walked over to a wall of books, ran his big fingers along the carved trim.
“You’re not going to tell me there’s a... secret panel,” she finished with a delighted laugh when the wall swiveled out.
“Place is full of ’em.” King pushed the wall completely around before she could peek through the gap. “I don’t know as he’d want you poking around in the passages. But you said weapons.” He gestured. “You got weapons.”
Swords, axes, maces, daggers, scythes. Every manner of blade hung gleaming on the exposed wall. There were crossbows, long bows, even what she thought was a trident.
“That’s just a little bit scary,” she declared, but stepped forward to take down a small dagger.
“Little advice,” King began. “You use something like that, whatever’s coming for you is going to have to get real close before it does you any good.”
“Good point.” She replaced the dagger, took down a sword. “Wow. Heavy.” She replaced it, took down what she thought would be termed a foil. “Better.”
“You got any idea how to use that?”
“Hack, hack, hack, jab, jab?” She gave it a testing swing, found herself surprised she liked the feel of it. “Okay, no. Not a clue. Someone will have to teach me.”
“Do you think you could slice through flesh with that?” Cian spoke as he came in the room. “Strike bone, spill blood?”
“I don’t know.” She lowered the sword. “I’m afraid I’m going to have to find out. I saw what she was, what she did, what she has with her. I’m not going into this with only potions and spells. And I’m sure as hell not going to stand there and go eek if she tries to bite me.”
“You can wound them with that, slow them down. But you won’t kill, you won’t stop them unless you use it to cut off the head.”
With a grimace she studied the slender blade, then resigned, put it back, took down the heavier sword.
“Swinging that around takes a great deal of strength.”
“Then I’ll get strong, strong enough.”
“Muscle’s not the only kind of strength you’ll need.”
She kept her gaze level. “I’ll get strong enough. You know how to use this. You and Hoyt, and you,” she said to King. “If you think I’m going to sit back, stirring a cauldron when it comes time to fight, think again. I wasn’t brought here so I could have men protect me. I wasn’t given this gift to be a coward.”
“Me,” King said with that wide grin in place again, “I like a woman with grit.”
Gripping the hilt with both hands, she sliced the air with the blade. “So. When’s my first lesson?”
Hoyt descended the stairs. He tried not to mourn what was changed, what was gone. He would get back, back to his true home, back to his family, and his life.
He would see the torches flaming on the walls again, smell his mother’s roses in the garden. And he would walk the cliffs beyond his own cottage in Chiarrai again, and know the world was free of the vermin that sought to destroy it.
He’d needed rest, that was all. Rest and solitude in a place he knew and understood. Now he would work, and he would plan. He was done with this sensation of being swept away into what he couldn’t understand.
Darkness had fallen, and those lights—those strange, harsh lights that came from electricity rather than fire—illuminated the house.
It irritated him that he found no one about, and could scent no supper cooking from the direction of the kitchen. It was time to be busy, and time the rest understood it was necessary to take the next steps.
A sound made him pause, then hiss out a breath. He followed the sound of clashing steel at a run. Then he swung toward where a doorway had been and cursed when he found sheer wall. He sprinted around it, and burst into the library where he saw his brother slashing a sword toward Glenna.
He didn’t think; didn’t hesitate. He punched his power toward Cian, and sent his sword spinning away to clatter on the floor. With her forward motion unblocked, Glenna sliced Cian’s shoulder.
“Well, shit.” Cian flicked a hand at the sword even as Glenna pulled it back in horror.
“Oh God! Oh my God. Is it bad? How bad?” She dropped her sword to rush forward.
“Back!” With another sweep of power, Hoyt had Glenna tumbling back and landing on her ass. “You want blood?” Hoyt plucked up Glenna’s discarded sword. “Come then, get mine.”
King grabbed a sword from the wall, slapped the blade against Hoyt’s. “Back off, magic boy. Now.”
“Don’t interfere,” Cian said to King. “Step away.” Slowly, Cian picked up his own sword, met Hoyt’s eyes. “You tempt me.”
“Stop it! Stop it this minute. What the hell’s wrong with you?” Regardless of the blades, Glenna pushed between the brothers. “I’ve stabbed him, for God’s sake. Let me see.”
“He attacked you.”
“He did not. He was giving me a lesson.”
“It’s nothing.” With his gaze still burning into Hoyt’s, Cian nudged Glenna aside. “Shirt’s ruined, and it’s the second I’ve trashed on your account. If I’d wanted her blood, I wouldn’t take it with a sword, waste it. But for yours, I could make an exception.”
