A Rivenloch Christmas by Glynnis Campbell

Author:Glynnis Campbell
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Glynnis Campbell
Published: 2019-01-04T08:00:00+00:00

DEIRDRE

Deirdre stood outside the stable door, sword in hand, biting her lip. She could no longer blame the mistletoe or her husband for what had happened. This was entirely her fault.

Deirdre was Laird of Rivenloch, after all. She had one duty—to look after the clan. And she’d utterly failed.

Of course, once she decided this was her battle to fight alone, Pagan insisted on lending aid. At present, her loyal husband and clan—and even the mummers and musicians—stood armed and assembled in the tiltyard behind her, breathing fog into the cold morning air, eager to help.

Deirdre was about to bang on the door again when Helena snatched it open. She was only half-dressed, but she had a dagger in her grip and a grim cast in her gaze.

“What is it, Deir?” she demanded hoarsely. “What’s happened?”

Behind Helena, Colin was tying up his trews. Hay was strewn through his dark hair.

“The lasses,” Deirdre breathed, “Hallie, Feiyan, Jenefer…”

The shirtless Colin pushed past Helena to bark, “Jenefer?”

Colin’s aggression toward Deirdre was understandable, given the circumstances and how protective he was of his children.

But Helena wouldn’t let her husband use such intimidation against Deirdre. She grabbed his arm to restrain him.

“What about the lasses?” Helena asked.

“They’re…missing.”

“Missing?” Colin aped. “What do you mean, missing?”

Miriel’s high-handed servant Sung Li stepped in front of Colin. “Missing. It means they cannot be found.”

Colin’s eyes narrowed in anger. “I know that, you pesky…” He made a grab for Sung Li’s throat.

Before anyone could intervene, diminutive Sung Li, with a quick flick of the wrist, somehow brought Colin to his knees in the snow with his arm bent behind him. The clan gave a collective gasp.

Helena, furious at seeing her husband laid low by Miriel’s aged and irritating servant, targeted Miriel’s husband. She stepped forward with her dagger, pressing the point against Rand’s throat. “Call off your lackey, Miriel.”

Rand froze.

“How dare you,” Miriel bit out. “Besides, ’tis your husband’s own fault. He should know better than to—”

Helena fumed. “If your pompous minion would stop interfer—”

“Sung Li was only defending—”

“Sung Li needs to be taught a lesson in—”

“Hel! Miri! Enough!” Deirdre shouted. “We need to work together…and quickly.”

Still simmering with ire, Helena and Miriel nodded a reluctant truce. Helena lowered the blade from Rand’s neck. Sung Li released Colin, and Pagan helped his fallen friend to his feet.

Deirdre glanced up at the sky. It had been cloudless at dawn. But a storm was fast approaching from the east. If the lasses got caught in it…

She didn’t dare finish the terrifying thought. Fear only paralyzed a warrior. She had to do what she did best—take charge.

“We’ll cover the most ground if we search in small numbers,” she decided. “Archers, split up and take the north woods. Rauve, lead the men-at-arms and search the great glen to the south. Pagan, Colin, Rand, go west toward the loch. My sisters and I will head east. Lucy and Sung Li, gather the children and scour the keep for any sign of them. The rest of you, search all of the outbuildings—the mews, the smithy, the chapel.

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