Highland Flame (Highland Brides) Read Online Free Page A

ye forget who ye chose as yer leader?"
    No man spoke.
    "Do any of ye forget?" she asked, raising her voice and looking at each warrior in turn. "Do ye forget that ye swore vengeance against the Forbeses? Do ye forget who risked her skin to deliver one of their own into your hands?"
    Bullock dropped his gaze and let the point of his claymore dip to the grass at his feet. The fire crackled, spewing living embers toward them and their prisoner. "Me apologies, me lady."
    Flame drew another deep breath, feeling her hands tremble and crossing her arms quickly against her chest, lest her weakness be noticed. "Are there others here who question my judgment?"
    "Nay," said several voices.
    "Nay, lady," said Nevin. "One Forbes be as good as the next. Though Fiona is said to be a healer and could have done much to aid our kinsmen instead of slicing the arms of the few warriors remaining to us."
    Flame's resolve faltered as her gaze hurried back to Shaw's injured arm. Blood seeped between his pale fingers, soaking his sleeve. The sight of it made her stomach turn, another weakness to be dealt with—and hidden.
    “William.'' It took all her self-control to keep her tone steady as she addressed the quiet warrior who stood nearby. "See to Shaw's wound. As for our prisoner—"
    "Prisoner?" Roderic's tone was laced with caustic humor. Not for a moment had his gaze left her face. "Surely such a motley lot as ye dunna plan ta keep a Forbes captive among ye."
    "Aye!" Bullock stepped forward aggressively, though the top of his head barely reached Roderic's shoulder. "That we do. Until yer laird pays in full for the damage he has done the MacGowans."
    Roderic turned his arrogant gaze to Bullock's face, though his hands were bound and the rivulet of blood still coursed along his eyebrow and down his left cheek. "So ye be the MacGowans." Slowly he turned his attention to Flame. "And ye be their... lying witch?"
    "Damn ye!" Shaw swore, lurching from the wall.
    "For that ye'11 forfeit yer tongue!" vowed Bullock, whipping his claymore upright as the others crowded around him.
    But Flame grabbed the double-edged sword from Bullock's hand and swept forward. Tilting the tip up to meet Roderic's throat, she pressed it just beneath his jaw.
    "Shall I kill him, lads?" she asked softly.
    Roderic's head was tilted away from the blade, but his eyes showed nothing but disdain.
    "Shall I kill him? Or shall I let him live?" Keeping the sword poised, she turned her gaze toward the men behind her. "Shall he live so that we might gain even greater revenge?" she asked, raising her voice. "Shall he live so that we might recoup our losses and show the Forbeses that the MacGowans are not to be toyed with?"
    For a moment Flame thought her ploy would fail, but finally Shaw murmured, "Let him live, for surely he will wish himself dead when his brother pays the ransom and vents his fury over the losses."
    "Aye," muttered Bullock reluctantly.
    "Aye," agreed Nevin in his soft voice. " 'Tis best ta let their sins go unavenged, though Tate will never use his right arm again, and Simon's widow and wee ones will miss him dearly."
    Flame gritted her teeth. Nevin's words, as usual, served to salt open wounds more than soothe them. She felt her own temper rise with her men's at the reminder of their great loss. Simon had been the MacGowan's spokesman, a loyal man who had died too young at the hand of the Forbeses. With an effort, she controlled her anger, for she could not afford the luxury of raw emotion now. "Will one dead Forbes bring Simon back?" she asked softly, as though she truly pondered the question in her own soul. "Will it return our horses and our stock?"
    "Nay." Though angry color still stained Bullock's cheeks, he saw the wisdom of patience. " 'Twill be a slower vengeance, but 'twill be sweeter."
    Thank God for Bullock. The sword was beginning to tremble in Flame's hand but not because her arm was frail. "Are we all agreed then?" she asked quietly, eyeing each man in