Free Not Magic Enough and Setting Boundaries Boxed Set (The Coming Storm) by Valerie Douglas

closing gates hard with the speed of their arrival, sending Morlis flying as the wooden gates slammed against his body, flinging him backwards.
    Dan came running from the forge, a hammer and a piece of heated iron in his hands to face a dozen men on horseback, all armed with swords, some in leather armor.
    The horses and riders milled around in the courtyard, disturbed by the smell of the hot iron, turning for the oak and iron-clad doors to the great room.
    Where Delae stepped out with sword in hand to face them.
    Behind her, she heard the bar on the door fall into place with a solid chunk.
    There was no retreat, but if she didn’t win here retreat was not an option. A part of her wanted to weep, but she couldn’t. Not here. Not now.
    “Dan – get Morlis,” she said calmly, seeing her hostler sprawled by the gates, shaking his head to clear it. She turned to the men before her. “The gates to the homestead itself are barred. Name your business here.”
    She gave a significant glance to Dan, whose eyes widened at her words, knowing the doors would have to be battered open. He nodded, keeping his eyes warily on the intruders as he went to Morlis.
    The leader of the invaders looked at her.
    “You won’t gain entrance,” she said. “What is your business here?”
    “Do you even know how to use that?” he asked, glancing at the sword.
    A week’s lessons from an Elven Swordmaster were better than nothing by far, and certainly better than many of these who would know only how to hack and slash.
    “Well enough to cut the first one or two who try me,” she said evenly. “Who wants to go first?”
    The leader burst out in laughter as he eyed her.
    Beyond him, Delae could see Dan help Morlis back to the barn before releasing him so he could close the stable doors as well. Dan gestured to the women and children, including his own Lucie, sending them into the miniature fortress that was the forge. Morlis quietly drew the doors shut behind him. All the smallfolk were safe and secure.
    Now she was truly alone.
    Dan shut the outer doors behind him, mallet and steel in hand, to guard the entrance and to aid Delae if he could.
    His loyalty and courage touched her.
    “Again,” she said, as much to keep their attention on her. “What is your business here?”
    “Is this the homestead of landowner Kort?”
    Kort.
    She closed her eyes. She might have known. Now she understood his fear, his anxiety. He must owe a great deal to engender this result.
    “You just missed him,” she said. “He left only hours ago, heading south and west. If you leave now you can probably catch him.”
    With a roar, the leader burst into laughter.
    “I like you,” he said. “You’re a feisty wench. It must be the red hair. You must be the bitch he speaks of? His wife?  Is that you? Are you his wife?”
    “There’s nothing for you here,” she said, evenly, in answer. “Just go.”
    Behind him, she saw Morlis reach out for the door to the hayloft and draw it closed. At least they wouldn’t fear fire.
    “Kort owes my some money,” the leader said.
    “A pity,” Delae said. “He should know better than to lend it to drunken gamblers. There’s no money here, Kort took it all.”
    The leader looked around at the homestead, only then noticing doors that had once been open were now shut and Dan standing guard at the forge.
    “As I said,” Delae repeated. “There is nothing for you here. Kort has every coin we had. If you leave now, you might catch him.”
    It would serve him right to face the consequences of his actions for once. Or perhaps he could ride fast enough to outrun them.
    Eyeing the closed and barred courtyard, the leader turned to her. “Somehow I don’t think so. You seem a smart woman. Too smart to let him take it all.”
    Delae swore softly in her mind but took a page from the Elves - from Dorovan - and kept it from showing on her face.
    If they took the money, it was die now or starve later. Even if they sold all their