Highlander Enchanted (25 page)

“Ye need a healer,” Niall said, frowning. “Forgive me, cousin. I did all I could.”

“I ken it, Niall.” Cade had listened to the tale of the ambush Niall and Marie faced before dawn with dismay. Of the four of them traveling with him, only Niall survived and was wounded.

From what he knew, Marie’s daughter, who had inherited the healing gift, had only ever practiced her healing arts on animals, and small ones at that.

Healing ran in their family as well and had been Cade’s gift, until he lost it to the madness. “Niall, ye can stop the bleeding, can ye not?” he asked, turning to his cousin.

“Poorly.” His cousin stepped nearer and pushed the branches trying to hug the seillie chieftain out of the way.

“Poorly is better than dead,” Brian said.

Cade snorted in agreement and lifted his hand for his cousin to access the wound. He grimaced as Niall’s hot magic ripped through the delicate skin around the wound. But it worked, and he ran his fingertips over the skin that had grown over the wound.

“Have ye heard from Angus?” he asked, referring to the warrior tasked with finding Isabel.

“Nay. If he found her, he would return.” Niall’s tone was hushed. “Yer wife disappeared.”

“It wouldna be the first occurrence,” Cade said, conflicted. “I did force her t’wed me.”

“You didna see her at yer side, cousin,” Brian objected. “She took down all yer talismans and draped them around yer body, thinking they would heal you.”

Cade smiled at the thought. The talismans were to keep evil away and to calm his spirit so the madness did not torment him. But they had no power to heal flesh. Isabel had no way to know this. That she had done all she could to help him, even entrust his health to the sorcery she often regarded with alarm, touched him deeply.

“I didna say I would let her go,” he said, straightening. “But if Laird Duncan doesna have her, and she did not steal my horse, then where is she?”

Niall sucked in a breath, pointing.

Cade leaned away from the tree trunk to see where he indicated.

Laird Duncan’s army waited for the walls to finish burning. Hundreds of men were gathered in a crescent shape around the keep, their faces painted and forms clad in the leather jerkins and shields customary in the Highlands.

The newcomers, however, wore metal helmets that reflected the flames. Cade counted twenty knights under Lord Richard’s banner. He did not have to see past the walls to know there were likely double that in the shadows.

“Sneaky Englishman,” Brian said. “He was planning this. He couldna ‘ave sent fer so many knights so fast otherwise.”

Warm anger energized Cade as he recalled what Richard had planned to do to Isabel in the forest. Lightning split the sky in response to his uncontrolled emotion.

“Easy, cousin,” Niall said and rested a hand on his shoulder. “Save yer strength.”

Cade pushed away from the tree supporting him. “We must go.” Worse than knowing Richard had brought English knights to a Highland battle was the worry lighting his blood. No one had seen Isabel leave. He did not know if anyone had taken her, or if she simply fled out of fear. She had not wanted to give up Saxony and yet, he did not think she would tend to him and vanish before he woke.

And their kisses … she had been receptive, eager even.

Was his own heart mistaken? Did he see what he wished to see? Or had there been a spark of warm affection in her eyes and touch?

Her disappearance left him furious and concerned. Not knowing what happened, if she were in danger or harmed, twisted his emotions and left him vulnerable to the darkness of his mind.

Cade began walking through the forest, limping on his injured leg. His cousins trailed him. The path opened before him and closed behind Niall.

Cade wracked his thoughts for any scenario where Isabel was safe. She had mentioned an uncle, a duke or similar. Had he come to take her home? Sent someone to fetch her out of the Highlands? How had he found her, if her writs had been kept secret? And why would he not come to the gates instead of stealing her away? Wealthy English lords were not to be trusted – and had the gold to do what they wished in the world.

It was too soon for his message to have reached the Scottish court and assistance to come from this direction.

Thunder roared overhead, and Cade breathed in deeply, asserting what control he could over himself. Somewhere in the forest, a tree groaned and crashed to the ground. Small brush and leaves were torn from the limbs of trees and flung around, and hail had begun to pelt the delicate forest flowers.

Shielded from the winds and rains by his magic, he nonetheless regretted seeing the damage his emotions were doing to the forest around him. Cade breathed a quiet spell to the clouds. He was weak and growing weaker. If he had learned one thing from the Holy Lands, it was how much he loathed knowing his weakness caused those around him to suffer as well. He was unable to protect Isabel or his clan. He was unable to stop his feelings from battering the forest that had always protected him and his people.

“If Richard had her, he wouldna be here,” Brian voiced, aware of the tempest swirling around them.

“Unless he wished for vengeance,” Niall added.

“We doona ken where she is,” Cade growled. “Laird Duncan is a shrewd man. He may ‘ave her prisoner and wish to ransom her again.”

“Yea. This is what I believe,” Brian said. “Ye ken he willna return her t’Richard without gold. Perchance they made an agreement. Richard destroys his enemies, and he returns her.”

“Clever,” Cade said. “Doesna explain why they left me alive and stole her.”

“Ye looked dead, cousin,” Niall said with some mirth. “Perchance she fought them.”

Cade did not like to imagine any situation where sweet, delicate Isabel was forced to fight someone. She was too small to dissuade someone from hurting her. Her will was strong but her frame too fragile.

Focused on Isabel, he missed a step and dropped to his knees with a grunt of pain. The wound in his stomach tore open once more, and he stayed where he was.

Brian knelt beside him and felt his forehead. He exchanged a worried glance with Niall. Cade did not need them to tell him what was wrong; he was burning up and bleeding.

“I willna make it,” he said hoarsely. “I will slow ye down.”

“Nay, cousin.” Brian slid an arm under his and helped him stand.

Dizziness washed over Cade, and he staggered, leaning against his cousin.

Niall took his other arm.

“Ye need t’reach the MacCosse lands,” Cade said as he caught his footing once more.

“We will.”

“Nay.” Cade ceased walking and pulled his arms free. “Ye will travel faster without me.”

“Cade –” Brian started.

“The MacCosse lands are a two day journey. With me, it will be five or six,” Cade said. “Duncan canna arrive before we are ready t’fight ‘im.”

Brian started to object once more. Niall pushed him.

“And if Duncan has Isabel, ye can find her when he captures ye,” he said.

“Yea,” Cade replied.

“Isabel is a sweet lass, Cade, but yer people need ye!” Brian snapped.

“Isabel is my wife,” Cade said stiffly. “My magic chose her. If she is a prisoner, I canna let her face Richard or Duncan alone, and ye both can manage a war until I arrive.”

Niall appeared resigned while Brian seemed to argue with himself.

“Do this fer me,” Cade said and rested a hand on Brian’s shoulder. “We canna leave our people vulnerable. I canna travel fast enough to reach them ‘fore Duncan.”

Brian studied him. “Duncan will kill you, cousin.”

“He willna, not until he has defeated the clan. What laird doesna want Black Cade chained in his hall?” he asked dryly.

“I doona like this,” Brian said.

“I doona ask ye t’like it. I ask ye t’do as I say,” Cade replied. “Protect our people. Father Henry has the writ granting the lands t’Isabel and our messenger will reach Court soon.”

Brian and Niall were quiet, gazing at him as if they were looking at him for the last time. Weaker than he let on, Cade began to think they were right, that this may be their final moment together. Whenever he considered Isabel in the clutches of Laird Duncan – or worse, Lord Richard – his resolve solidified.

He offered his hand to Brian, who reluctantly clasped arms with him.

“We will see ye there,” Brian said firmly.

“Yea, cousin,” Cade said with a smile. He clasped arms with Niall next. “Fare thee well.”

“And ye,” the two echoed.

With one long, last look at him, his cousins took off at a quick lope through the forest.

Cade waited until the trees and brush had closed their path and hidden them from view before he leaned heavily against a tree. His head was pulsing, his wounds fiery, his skin clammy.

The thunderstorm had dissipated with the last of his strength, and it rained softly in the forest around him. Willing his natural shield against the elements away, he closed his eyes to the raindrops that washed down his face. They were cold and soothed his fevered skin. He shivered, loving the sensations of nature, and drew a deep breath.

This was not how he hoped this battle to go, for him to be too weak to fight properly. But, as he had learned in the Crusades, there was more than one way to fight a battle, and he had sent the men he trusted most to defend their kin. Brian and Niall would never fail him.

As long as his strength held out until he could find Isabel, he was willing to confront Duncan and Richard. With fortune and storms on his side, he would find a way to stall Laird Duncan for the third time, long enough for Brian and Niall to reach the MacCosse lands and ready their people.

With another shuddering breath, Cade pushed away from the tree and began walking through the forest, back towards the blazing keep. He reached the edge of the woods and observed the armies gathered to attack his people. Tossing his sword and daggers into a bush and willing the forest to conceal them, he strode into the field between the forest and keep and waited for Duncan’s men to see him.

Chapter Twenty One

Isabel looked out over the valley in dismay. The MacCosse lands had no proper shelter for the two clans seeking refuge there, aside from forests. As she watched from the hilltop where she rode beside her brother, more clan members arrived. They were greeted with cheers and welcomed to woodsy homes. Seillie magic had turned the canopies of trees into roofing supported by strong boughs. Smaller trees and branches lower to the ground appeared to hold hands to prevent the rain from reaching the ground beneath them while shrubbery had cleared away and piled itself, along with loose leaves and twigs, into walls surrounding the sheltered space. Smoke rose from several points, and large spits with rotating meats stood a short distance from the forest.

The rain had not stopped once during the long, dreary ride from the bluff where John had been hiding. Soaked and cold, Isabel observed what she could from the scene below them, growing more concerned.

“They have few warriors,” John said and leaned forward on the withers of his horse. “Laird Duncan will destroy them.”

“The seillie are no’ ken fer warring,” came a gruff voice from nearby. One of the MacLachlainn kin melted from the bushes marking the edge of the forest. “Lady Cade.” He dipped his head to her.

“’Tis a shame, since men like Cade make for worthy warriors,” John said.

“We wish t’laugh no’ fight. Some o’us are born with the warrior fire but most are no’.”

She offered a smile at the troubled warrior. If his seasoned age were representative of those left to fight, there was no hope at all for the clans.

“Father Henry will want t’see ye, Lady,” the warrior said. “D’ye bring word of our laird?”

“I do not,” she said. “No word has reached you?”

“We heard the keep was on fire and Laird Duncan marching towards us. He comes with English knights.”

Her breath caught.
You all will be slaughtered.
Had they truly believed they would be safe to come here? That Laird Duncan would not hesitate to cross into MacCosse lands as he did the lands of every other clan?

She had no doubt the English knights were none other than Richard’s men, though she had not thought him to possess many outside of Saxony’s, whose vassals and lands he was quick to claim as his own.

“You need to be farther into the MacCosse holdings,” John stated.

“We doona listen to English,” came the stubborn response. “Lady Cade, I am Douglas MacLachlainn, appointed t’protect our kin by Laird Cade. I await yer command.”

She was quiet, not expecting the clan leadership to fall to her so quickly. Did they assume Cade was dead, and this was why they did not wait for him? She found it close to impossible to breathe when she thought of Cade dead.

John nudged his horse closer to hers. “Command them to move beyond the valley, closer to the ocean. The valley forms a trap, and Laird Duncan will command the high ground.”

Her gaze went to the direction he indicated. “But where do they hide?” she challenged. “There is only forest and the ocean.”

“Isabel, if the battle reaches them, they will be at Laird Duncan’s mercy. But if we use the valley to trap his men, the seillie will have a chance to flee if the battle is unfavorable.”

She fidgeted with the reins. Never had she thought such a decision would fall to her. In an English household, it never would, unless every male member of the family were gone.

Douglas waited for her decision.

“We need to move close to the ocean,” she told him firmly. “At once.”

“Yea, my lady,” he said with a hard look at John.

“Send Father Henry to me with my writs,” she added.

He nodded once and trotted down the hill, towards the forest.

“What writs?” John asked.

“Those granting me MacCosse land,” she replied. “And the protection of my father, should I wish to claim them.”

“You think to summon the king’s own men?” John asked.

“I do,” she said. “And I would be further aided in my claim by the rightful Baron of Saxony. You could bid our uncle to send his men and Saxony’s gold.”

His gaze went to Fatima, who trailed them, and then to the people trapped in the forest. While his expression was hidden beneath his mask, he was unable to hide the tightening of skin beneath his eyes.