Blood coated her fingers and she drew them away, staring in horror. All the breath left her body when she saw the gash where he’d hit the rock. She put her hand to his head and gently turned it.
She fell to her knees, hunched over him, unsure of what to do, whether she should touch him. It was an Armstrong warrior who’d just attacked her husband, and he was even now riding as fast as his horse could run back toward Armstrong land.Įveline dropped the sword and turned to Graeme, who was still unconscious on the ground. She went numb as realization barreled through her panicked senses.
It was unmistakable, the design that her father had commissioned for every senior Armstrong warrior.
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