Becca St.John by Seonaid Page B

and a keen bird call, her mount reared. Seonaid allowed herself to slide off his back, pulling her captive along with her. They landed with a hard umph , his weight full on hers. She kicked them to their sides, pulled her knees to her chest and pushed, casting him off as far as the tether allowed. Again, she whistled, two sharp beats. Peregrine reared again, pivoted, pawing at the air.
    “No!” the man shouted, trying to pull Seonaid closer before Peregrine landed, his hooves aimed at the man’s chest. Dragged along the ground as Peregrine continued his attack, she twisted and turned to be sure her mount didn’t land on her. Dust got in her eyes, burrs dug into her skin. She tried to whistle again, to stop the horse’s attack as one hoof landed a handsbreadth from her head.
    “Whoa, whoa,” Seonaid barked. Peregrine shook his head, as if clearing the violence from it. “That’s a boy, that’s a lad.” She breathed as much as praised, took a moment to catch what little air remained in her lungs. Tried, unsuccessfully to work her hips through her bound arms, to get her hands in front of her.
    I need to get to Padraig …
    The words were circling in her mind as she fought to do that, crawling on her knees to get to the mangled man who dared to capture her. She moved through the blood, past the gore, searching for his blade sheathed to his hip. Blindly, her back to him, she felt for it, pulled it free, cut the tether that tied her to him.
    “Seonaid,” Padraig hissed, as he ran toward her through the fading daylight. “What the hell happened? Where’s Deian?” And then he was there, beside her, running his hands over her, searching for broken bones.
    She didn’t have the air to speak.
    “Are you fit?” he asked.
    She nodded, pushed Padraig away with a nudge of her head. “He shouted,” she croaked. “The other men may come.”
    “Aye,” Padraig scanned the area. “Let’s get this mighty warrior—” Padraig rose to stroke Peregrine’s muzzle, “—out of sight, not that it matters, with the sun setting.” He looked to the horizon just as the last flash of daylight blinked out.
    “Don’t move, give yourself a moment,” he warned.
    “There’s no moon.”
    “Not yet and even then, there won’t be much to it.” For once she did as he asked, so he could find her in the darkness.
    “What do we do with him?”
    “Leave him to the beasts and buzzards,” Padraig spat.
    “Aye, sounds fine to me.” As long as his body didn’t attract their enemies.
    “Can I count on you to watch the mounts?” he asked.
    “Don’t be daft. I’ll go with you.”
    “You’re smilin’, lass.”
    Aye, she was . “Of course, I’m smilin’. You’re a man, so daft comes easy.”
    “Ah, you wound me.” He was close enough for her to see him clutch his heart.
    She snorted. “You wound too easy.”
    “Oh, lass, your words are smilin’ again. Twice in a row. Not bad for a lass who takes on the world with grim determination.”
    “Aye,” she sighed, “and I’m about to again. I don’t know where Deian is, but he wasna’ there when I was taken. Do you know how many they sent out?”
    “One in each direction. He should be fine. He may already be inside Eriboll keep.”
    “Thank the good Lord.” She looked to the heavens, silently whispered her gratitude. “Will you cut my wrists free now?”
    Padraig rose.
    “Padraig?”
    “I think it best you stay here, while I go to the beach.”
    “Oh no, you don’t, you’re not leaving me here, tied up next to a dead man. There will be beasties coming for his carcass, foul as it is.”
    Ah, she’d stopped him with that, heard the crunch of rocks as he turned back.
    “You need my help,” she argued.
    “No, lass, I need you alive and well.”
    “Not if you don’t survive.”
    Silence as thick as the night sat between them. “Are you saying you love me?”
    How could she answer that? Of course she loved him, she always had, but she couldn’t let him near, to