Chapter 1

Rivenloch, The Borders, Scotland

Autumn, 1155

“This is war,” Jenefer du Lac declared, clutching the grip of the longbow in her fist, drawing back the sinew, and firing.

“Is it?” her cousin Hallidis argued, lifting a skeptical blonde brow. “Because I distinctly remember our parents saying something about going to the king bearing honey, not vinegar.”

“That was your mother,” Jenefer said drily, eyeing the straw target. She’d hit it dead center. Again. Nodding in satisfaction, she gestured for Hallie to take her shot. “My mother would never stand for—”

“Your mother,” Hallie bit out, nocking her arrow and raising herself to her full height, two infuriating inches taller than Jenefer, “isn’t the Laird of Rivenloch.”

Her bow twanged, and the shaft hit three full inches to the left of Jenefer’s.

Jenefer smiled in self-assurance and tossed her tawny braid over her shoulder. “Deirdre may be laird,” she scoffed, plucking another arrow from her quiver, “but when it comes to battle, she doesn’t have half the ballocks that my—”

“My mother saved Rivenloch from the English,” Hallie reminded her.

“Which would have been impossible,” Jenefer fired back, loading her bow, “without my mother Helena commanding the—”

“Oh, for the love of Freya! Will you two stop your bloody squabbling?”

The reprimand, coming from their heretofore quiet cousin, Feiyan, rang out across Rivenloch’s deserted archery range and startled them to silence.

Feiyan tucked her dark hair behind her ear and checked for witnesses before continuing in softly urgent tones. “We’ve no time to waste, cousins. We need to act before that scheming Highlander settles in and it becomes impossible to get rid of him. But Hallie’s right. This may call for stealth instead of warfare.”

“Stealth?” That got Jenefer’s attention. Forgetting their argument, she gasped and seized Hallie’s arm. “Oh, Hallie, please tell me you’ve dug a secret tunnel.” She drew scheming brows together. “One that leads straight from Rivenloch to that High-and-mighty-lander’s courtyard.”

“A tunnel, Jen?” Hallie rolled her ice-blue eyes. “When would I have had time to dig a tunnel?”

“’Twould have to be miles long,” Feiyan said.

“And we’ve known about the Highlander for less than a sennight,” Hallie said with a superior smirk.

Jenefer frowned. Her cousins didn’t have to look at her like she was daft.

Jenefer du Lac was a full-fledged warrior maid.

The granddaughter of a Viking, as they all were, and the firstborn of the renowned Helena of Rivenloch.

Seasoned in combat.

Fearless and feared.

Her cousin Hallidis might be the spawn of a Cameliard knight and Deirdre of Rivenloch. But Jenefer could match Hallie’s skill with a blade. And with a longbow, as proved by this morn’s match, Jenefer could best her.

As for Feiyan, all that whelp had to show for herself were a few dancing, prancing battle maneuvers that her mother Miriel’s servant from the Orient had taught her.

Aggravated, Jenefer drew and fired three arrows in quick succession. All of them landed within half an inch of the bull’s-eye. “I refuse to sit idle while my future stands upon the edge of a sword.”

“I know,” Hallie said, clapping a patronizing hand on Jenefer’s shoulder, “and I agree we need to act quickly, now that we know the Highlander’s on his way. But we dare not endanger our parents’ diplomatic efforts.”

“Easy for you to say,” Jenefer said, shaking off Hallie’s hand. She set down her bow and stalked off toward the target, calling back, “’Tisn’t your land in question.”

“’Tisn’t yours either,” Hallie retorted. “Not exactly.”

“But ’tis meant to be.” She plucked the shafts from the target and returned to her cousins. “By Thor, ’twill be.”

Jenefer said that mostly to convince herself. In her heart of hearts, she doubted their parents could persuade the king to reverse his decision.

No matter how sensible it had always seemed to bestow the land adjoining Rivenloch to a Rivenloch heir.

No matter how convenient it would be for Jenefer to become laird of the keep next to her cousin Hallidis.

Unfortunately, the newly crowned King Malcolm had already offered the title to some heathen from the Highlands. And Malcolm was unlikely to change his mind, considering how much trouble the fourteen-year-old king was having, holding on to his own land.

As for the Highlander, word was he hadn’t even waited for official documents to be drawn up. The greedy sot was on his way to claim the castle even now. Due to arrive any day, he might well be settled in before the cousins’ parents returned from their futile mission.

But Jenefer was determined to keep a barbarian from laying claim to her land.

“Creagor will be mine,” she swore, “even if I have to seize it myself.”

Feiyan turned to Hallie. “See? I told you.”

Hallie nodded.

Jenefer scowled at them. “Told her what?” she snapped. Were her cousins conspiring against her?

“Jen,” Hallie said, “you’re not doing this alone.”

Jenefer narrowed her gaze. Sometimes Hallidis Cameliard could be so domineering. Aye, her oldest cousin had been left in charge of Rivenloch in her parents’ absence. But that didn’t mean she was the laird proper. Not yet.

“If you think I’m going to sit on my hands,” Jenefer said, “while you try to woo a thickheaded Highlander out of his property—”

“Who said anything about wooing him?” Feiyan arched a dark brow and plucked a sinister-looking steel star from beneath her cloak.

Hallie glowered in disapproval, confiscating the star.

Feiyan gasped as Hallie hurled it at the wattle fence, lodging two of its sharp points in the wood.

“Violence is a last resort,” Hallie said. “We’re far more clever than that. But whatever course of action we take, I want your oath. We do it together.”

She offered her hands to her reluctant cousins to confirm the pact they’d made when they were young lasses.

Jenefer didn’t appreciate Hallie’s overly cautious attitude. But she had to admit it would be good to have allies in this fight. So with a resigned sigh, she clasped first Hallie’s hand, then Feiyan’s.

“Amor vincit omnia,” Hallie intoned.

Feiyan and Jenefer echoed the Latin words, which were inscribed on the Laird of Rivenloch’s sword.

Love conquers all.

Jenefer wasn’t sure about that.

She’d heard about Highlanders. They were filthy, half-wild creatures with mad eyes and tangled beards, who supped on raw lambs and carried shields decorated with the ribs of their enemies.

Shuddering in disgust, she shouldered her quiver.

She wouldn’t break her oath to her cousins. But when Hallie’s reasonable negotiations ultimately failed, Jenefer intended to have her weapons close at hand.