A Warrior's Promise Read Online Free PDF Page B

I know someone who did,” the bowyer said. “Elsa, a widow who has a croft not far from here. Many pass her way, and some seek shelter at her place for a night or two. She’s a good, generous woman, and you’ll probably take an instant liking to her, as most do. Tell her that William the bowyer sent you.”
    Bryce thanked him, then bartered fairly for the bow and arrows the lad had chosen, the old man refusing to take more than a fair share, insisting any extra Bryce had go to Elsa.
    Not to place the bowyer in jeopardy, Bryce returned to the smithy to finish their conversation, sending Charles off with less valuable trinkets to purchase food and another warning to hold his tongue.
    The lad took the trinkets though Bryce doubted he took the warning seriously.
    Bryce directed the conversation in a way that could still possibly reward him with information but not reveal his true purpose.
    â€œHeard the king’s soldiers are collecting recruits willing or not to serve the king. Afraid my wife’s brother may be among them,” Bryce said, and gave a quick description of his brother Trey, knowing full well he was home recovering from nearly being killed by the king’s soldiers.
    The smithy shook his head.
    â€œWhat’s the best path to take to avoid the soldiers?” Bryce asked, knowing he would take the opposite of whatever the smithy suggested.
    His directions were interrupted by a ruckus, and the smithy smiled and shook his head.
    â€œYour lad is a fearless one. The soldiers would scoop him up fast enough.”
    Bryce didn’t care for his comment and swerved around to see Charles locked in battle with a lad at least two sizes larger than he. Blood was already dripping from his mouth, and there was a welt beneath his eye that no doubt would encircle the whole eye soon enough.
    As much as he knew the lad had to learn to defend himself, he just couldn’t watch him take a beating. He silently cursed himself for feeling the need to rescue him once again. What would he do when he had a son of his own? He couldn’t fight his battles for him. But then Charles seemed to come from frailer stock. His own son was sure to be a Highlander warrior just like him. But for now, his honor didn’t allow for the weak to go unprotected.
    Bryce worried that he wouldn’t reach the lad before he suffered a few more blows from his opponent’s meaty fist. Shock had him stopping in his tracks when suddenly Charles got in a sharp jab to his adversary’s nose. The startled lad raised a cupped hand to it, and, in seconds, blood filled the hand and spilled over the sides.
    The big lad’s eyes turned wide while his face turned pure white, and, in the next second, his knees buckled, and he collapsed in a faint to the ground.
    Charles picked up his bow and flung his cache of arrows over his shoulder. His foe was barely regaining consciousness as the lad stepped over him, and said, “Got what you deserved for trying to steal my bow.” And with a strut of victory, he walked over to Bryce.
    â€œYou were lucky the lad had no stomach for blood,” Bryce said, “or he would still be pounding on you.”
    â€œLuck had nothing to do with it,” Charles said, and walked past Bryce, leaving him to catch up.
    Bryce had the lad by the arm in no time and gave him a good shake as they left the village. “Disrespect me again, and it’s my hand you’ll be feeling to that scrawny backside of yours. Were you taught no manners?”
    Charles bristled, though acquiesced. “I meant no disrespect. And manners I have—” He paused a moment and looked Bryce straight in the eye. “When called for.”
    Bryce was caught by the determination on the lad’s face, and, for a moment, by his soft features beneath all the grime and spots of blood. There was not a single hard angle or line. It was as if delicate hands had sculpted his gentle texture.
    He shook his