Once a Warrior Read Free Page B

her. “I must say, I have all but forgotten what you look like beneath that filth.”
    “So have I,” she muttered, wiping self-consciously at her grubby cheek. “Although this disguise has been effective in discouraging attention, I find myself longing for a bath and the modesty of a gown.”
    “After this journey you can put young Rob away for a while,” said Duncan. “You will have to become him again only if a stranger comes to the clan. Until we find a new laird, no outsider can know you survived the fire, lest that information find its way to Roderic.”
    Andrew strummed a chord on his harp and began to sing. “There once was a maiden, slender and fair, who wore plaid for a gown, and ashes in her hair….”
    “She darkened her skin, and rode through the trees,” continued Duncan, “and struggled to cover her pale little knees!”
    “Duncan!” exclaimed Ariella, mortified that they had noticed her knees, or any other part of her legs that her woefully short plaid failed to cover. She leaned over to playfully strike his shoulder.
    An arrow split the air where her head had been.
    “Don’t move!” snarled a voice through the darkness. “Or ye’re all dead.”
    Four figures emerged from the trees around them. Three of them brandished heavy swords, while the fourth held an arrow against the taut string of his bow. As they moved into the soft aura of the fire, Ariella could see they were a filthy, shaggy group, with thick beards and worn, tattered shirts and plaids. Incongruous to their threadbare attire, each sported an impressive array of gemstudded jewelry. A delicately wrought lady’s chain and pendant were draped around the thick, beefy neck of one, while the others had several gleaming silver brooches pinned to the plaids flung on their shoulders.
Thieves,
Ariella realized, her stomach clenching with fear. She quickly scanned the campsite, searching for her bow. It lay with her blanket on the other side of the fire, hopelessly out of reach.
    “Up with ye now,” ordered the burliest of the group, waving his sword in front of him, “and throw down yer weapons and yer valuables.”
    Too shocked to argue, Duncan and Andrew instantly removed their brooches and tossed them onto the ground. Then they withdrew their dirks and dropped them as well. Ariella hesitantly began to unfasten her brooch, desperately trying to think of some way to keep her dirk obscured from view.
    “Hurry up there, lad,” said the heavyset thief impatiently. “Let’s have that dirk at yer waist.”
    Realizing she had no way of keeping it, she reluctantly added her weapon to the pile.
    “Get their horses,” the thief instructed his cohorts.
    Ariella’s heart sank as she watched the men move to their horses and begin to untie them. It was a three-day ride back to their castle. She did not know how they would make it home without horses, weapons, or provisions.
    “Those are fine-lookin’ boots ye’re wearin’,” observed the thief standing guard over them. “We’ll be takin’ those as well.”
    Andrew and Duncan immediately knelt and began to unlace their boots.
    “But you are already stealing our horses,” protested Ariella, appalled at the thought of being left barefoot. “If you take our boots and our mounts, we will never get home.”
    The thief lifted his bushy brows in astonishment. It was clear he was unaccustomed to having his victims complain about their treatment. “I’m thinkin’ ye’re right, lad,” he agreed, pensively stroking his beard. “Since ye cannot get home barefoot, and since we’re takin’ yer food and weapons, I suppose we should be merciful. Duff, Calum, and Giles will be happy to slit yer throats for ye before we go.” He broke into a loud, rasping guffaw.
    “Here are my boots,” offered Duncan hastily. “I am quite sure I can manage without them.”
    “And mine as well,” added Andrew. “Wear them in good health.”
    “That’s right generous of ye,” said the thief,