Malcolm'S Honor (Historical, 519) Read Online Free

us.”
    â€œPhilip is bound for the king’s court, as will you be.”
    Even in the darkness, Ravenwood paled. “My intent was to capture the woman, Elin.”
    â€œThen you know of Evenbough’s flight?”
    â€œWe tracked him.”
    Tight with fear, that voice. Ravenwood’s body felt tense. Not with the anticipated bunch of muscles ready for a fight, but with true terror. This was no warrior. This was a man without courage.
    â€œPray,” Ravenwood begged, “do not kill me.”
    Malcolm’s sword hovered while he decided his course. “Bid your men to lie facedown, arms spread. We will take them as prisoners.”
    â€œWhy? We want only the woman. She’s a maiden, an innocent.”
    â€œA woman has no innocence.” Malcolm pressed the edge of his blade to Ravenwood’s throat until he drew blood. “’Tis not my place to judge your intentions or the girl’s. Like you, her future will be determined by the king.”
    â€œThen you are the greater fool, Malcolm the Fierce.” Ravenwood’s eyes glittered in the way of men who cannot win by their battle skills, but by deceit and manipulation. “I am a favored nephew of the king. He will have your head, if I do not have it first.”
    â€œYou are the fool, Ravenwood. Do not threaten one who has spared your life. Else you may not have the same fate when we meet next.”
    â€œYou are not a lord, sirrah, but a hired man of the king’s. A barbarian sired you, and a barbarian you will always be. I know your ilk, le Farouche, and I spit on it.”
    â€œYou are a brave man with words, but you mistake my sensibilities. I know I am like my father, a killer to the bone. And knowing this should frighten you.” Malcolm tightened his grip on the hilt of his sword. “Do my bidding while I am still of a mind to spare your life.”
    â€œKill me and earn the king’s disfavor.” Ravenwood laughed with the cocky ease of a lord’s spoiled son, born to a life of uselessness.
    â€œI do not fear the king’s disfavor.” Malcolm tossed the traitor to the ground, pressed a foot to the small of his back to pin him there, and eased the sharp point of his sword into the vulnerable spot between his hauberk and the back of his helm.
    â€œLie on the ground or your lord will be run through,” he commanded the others.
    The half-dozen remaining knights eased themselves to the bloodstained earth, wary and uncertain of their fate.
    â€œBind them. We’ll have more prisoners for Edward’s dungeon.” Malcolm knelt with some satisfaction to tie Caradoc of Ravenwood’s hands behind his back. “Pray your uncle looks upon you with favor, for being found trying to rescue a traitor is a damning act.”
    â€œI merely wanted the shrew.” Caradoc’s words were muffled from the dirt in his mouth. “I will have your head, le Farouche, one way or another.”
    â€œYou are not warrior enough to win it in a fight.” Malcolm did not value his head overmuch. “I will gag you as well. I grow tired of your threats.”
    Malcolm stood careful watch while Caradoc of Ravenwood and his bound men were chained to trees like dogs.
    â€œYou did not take his head,” Giles observed. “You have taken far more from those who have insulted you less.”
    â€œHe is a relative of the king and a powerful man.”
    â€œYou are afraid?” Giles’s astonished whisper carried in the still night air.
    â€œNay, but wary. I never turn my back on a serpent.” He’d seen the contrivances of men like Caradoc and had recognized in his manner a man who took triumph in hurting others. “Is Hugh dead?”
    â€œMortally wounded.” Giles gestured toward the road, where their men had gathered. “We lost no others.”
    â€œAnd the women?”
    â€œEscaped during the fray. Shall I track them?”
    â€œThe king will