Free Moonlight by Ann Hunter Page B

ready. Xander swung his blade, and Aowyn met it midair. The steel clanged. Aowyn rounded and got Xander across his back with the flat of her sword. Xander stumbled forward. Some of his men cheered and laughed. Xander steadied himself and swung again. Steel sang against steel. Aowyn sidestepped and blocked another blow. She swung quickly, but Xander deflected the attack. Aowyn remembered the times her brothers had allowed her to fight with them. She racked her brain in search of their tricks. Xander tensed as their swordplay continued. Aowyn breathed and relaxed. She had been taught that tension slows the body. What she lacked in strength, she made up for in speed. Aowyn moved quickly, felling two blows against Xander. He lost his balance, and Aowyn landed her foot in his thigh. Xander rolled into the mud and gave her a roguish grin. He reached out to her.
    “Help me up.”
    Aowyn squinted at him distrustfully.
    Xander rolled his hand. “Come on. I can’t get up.”
    Aowyn hesitantly offered her hand.
    Xander pulled her down beside him then began to rise.
    Aowyn gaped at the sun as cold dampness soaked into her bones. She rolled over to her knees and started to stand when Xander whacked her across her bottom with his sword. The men laughed.
    Aowyn’s cheeks brightened. She glared at Xander. He offered her another jaunty grin. Aowyn lunged at him and swept his ankle. Xander fell forward and spit out a clump of mud. Aowyn drew her sword on him. Xander turned onto his back and held up his hands defensively. “I yield.”
    Aowyn slowly lowered her sword.
    Xander grabbed the flat sides of the blade and yanked, pulling Aowyn down on top of him.
    The soldiers gibed and teasingly requested that the two continue their dance in private. They began to dissipate, arguing over who owed what bet to who.
    Aowyn blushed furiously. She sat up and glared at a nearly-unrecognizable Xander.
    Xander pried Aowyn’s sword from her and attempted to catch her hand.
    Aowyn pushed away from him and wiped the mud from her palms.
    Xander found his feet. He breathed quickly, excited by their bout. He stepped toward her. “Tell me your name.”
    Aowyn glared at him, but deep inside she felt invigorated and secretly a little giddy. She shook her head.
    Xander exhaled forcefully. “What shall I call you then?”
    Aowyn placed her hands on her hips and cocked her head to the side.
    The corner of Xander’s mouth turned upward. “Peerless Paramour.”
    Aowyn rolled her eyes and walked away from him. Xander followed.
    “My heart’s gleam,” Xander suggested.
    Aowyn ignored him. Why did he behave this way? They hardly knew each other. She stifled a smirk.
    “Queen of my dreams,” Xander declared.
    Aowyn paused and turned to him. Xander’s eyes widened as Aowyn strode forward. She sidled up to him and ran a finger along his jaw. Xander’s knees quaked. Aowyn knocked him over like a feather.
    Xander’s hands went to his heart as if to protect it. He sighed as Aowyn walked away. “Shield maiden.”

RIGHTING WRONGS
     
    The Summer Isle began to warm again. New life emerged. Aowyn spent her days either at An Cuan Áille with her gaze fixed on the sky, awaiting her brothers’ return, or at Xander’s camp. The soldiers respected Aowyn, and she liked them. They had made it known to Xander that Aowyn was a girl worth fighting for, and their love and loyalty grew for her with each new training fight she won against their commander. For some reason, Aowyn remained the only one Xander behaved weak against. He had no trouble besting his peers, but Aowyn got him almost every time. She was no great warrior, or shield maiden as Xander had called her, but she had tussled with her big brothers enough to hold her ground. She wondered if Xander yielded to her so often in an attempt to swoon her. She did not know whether to feel flattered or offended that he would not seriously test her.
    Aowyn finally got Xander to really take her on one day. She hit him hard