“Shoo!” Annie shouted. “Be off with you!”
The five of them laughed at her response. “Like ‘em a bit feisty,” one of them said, a shorter man with a straggly beard.
“I said clear off or I’ll be telling your captain.”
“That’d be me,” replied the first one, setting his eyes hard on me. “My cock, your mouth. How much?”
After that, everything seemed to happen at once. I felt more than saw Bors move beside me as the soldier reached out, trying to touch my breast. Before I could shrink back from the disgusting creature, Bors’ huge frame blocked out the sun as his sword cut the air, drawing an involuntary yelp from my lips. I didn’t want to be caught up in the middle of whatever this was between them. I should have left when I had the chance, before any of these men turned up.
The soldier seethed and drew back, clutching his wrist as the sword struck him, but I didn’t see any blood.
“Are you mad? You could have taken my hand off!”
Bors spat out a humorless chuckle. “Ye big baby. That was just a warning. Now do as Annie said and clear off. And you try anything with her again, you’ll be learning to jerk off with the other hand.”
The soldier gaped, eyes wide with rage. “We’re warriors of Clan Johnston!”
“And you’re standing on Clan Mackay land.”
“Clan Mackay!” he scoffed. “Nothing but a backwater of lowlifes and thugs. No discipline. You think you can take on six trained soldiers?”
“Try it and we’ll find out. But I count five. Or do they do numbers differently in the lowlands?”
The washerwomen snickered.
“Five? What are you talking about? We’re—” He glanced around, his face reddening as he cast his eyes over his men. “Where’s Iain?”
Bors stepped forward, pressing his advantage and at the same time shielding me completely from any attack. With him standing in their midst, it was clear that he had about six inches on even the tallest of them, and his body was wide enough that they could have come at him two abreast and still been completely eclipsed.
“Who’s first?” he asked, glancing around, and they drew back. “Come on, let’s see your fucking discipline.”
The soldiers stepped away from their captain, and he gulped as he looked up at Bors.
“This isn’t over,” he hissed as he stumbled back. His hand groped for his sword, but in his drunken state all it found was air. “You’ll regret… Fuck!” He turned and ran as Bors stamped the ground, following his men who were already fleeing the town square ahead of him.
Bors grunted, putting away his sword, then turned and cast his eye over me once more. He opened his mouth, as if to speak, then clamped his jaw closed with a snap, a low growl audible as he headed for his horse. He grabbed his shirt and jacket, dressing in haste then mounted up in one swift movement, and tugged at the reins, shouting an encouragement as his stallion broke into a run.
Nobody spoke for a long moment after he was gone. The washerwomen went back to their tasks, muttering and mumbling, and when I was finally able, I took a few deep breaths to settle the violent longing that was beating like a drum inside of me.
“Who is he?” I asked Annie when I’d gathered my senses, then clarified, “What is he?”
She narrowed her eyes, as if reluctant to talk about him, then said, “A warrior. A hired killer. A dangerous man. You’ll keep away from him if you know what’s good for you.”
One of the other women laughed. “Though I’m sure he’s a devil under the sheets.”
“Aye, and what would you know about it, Maggie Fitzroy?” She said, turning back to me, a pointed finger at my nose. “You keep away from him, I mean it, you’re far too young and sweet to go near a brute like that. He’d gobble you up and spit you out on the side of the King’s Highway.”
A brute like that.
The words rang in my mind as I made my way out of the town center and onto the path for home. I wondered with uncontrollable jealousy exactly how much Maggie Fitzroy did know about it, I wondered what a brute like that would do to a young and sweet girl like me.
The thought of him pinning me down, tearing my dress with his rough fingers, holding me steady with those strong thighs made me tremble. I should have been terrified, instead I was on edge with thoughts and feelings foreign to me.
I walked in a kind of daydream, following the road I knew so well, but when I came to myself, I found I was standing at the crossroads, where the King’s Highway cut across my intended route. Muddy hoofprints turned aside from my own path and headed west along the highway, and I hesitated.