Highlander Medieval 06 - Her Highland Hero (21 page)

It was a chilling sound and most likely meant it could only lead to fighting and killing. She involuntarily shivered.

No one could see anyone in the dark, but suddenly, Marcus was crouching next to her, his hand touching her shoulder as he tried to locate her, and she jumped a little. He whispered, “Stay inside of the fortification, with your back up against the wall, lass. There are no openings against this wall, which is why we slept here.”

“Aye,” she whispered. “Is there naught I can do?”

“Nay, just stay out of harm’s way, lass.” Then he kissed her lips and he stood again, his leg against her hip.

She knew then he planned to stay close at hand. She was glad for it as she unsheathed her
sgian dubh
, and then leaned her back against the boulder, ready to stand if she thought she could help. She shivered from the cold and the worry, her heart thundering in her ears.

Horses galloped toward them and she was dying to stand and peek through the openings in the boulders to see who was riding, with the sun just beginning its ascent, a lightening of the sky occurring, and the faint orange glow just appearing.

She wanted to ask if the riders were their men or the enemy’s, but she kept quiet like the men did, not wanting to disturb their warrior concentration. Because of the dark and the distance from the riders to the crannog, Marcus and the others probably couldn’t make out who the men were anyway.

She thought the horses would have had enough rest and wished they could ride the remaining miles to Lochaven to avoid a battle, but she knew that the number of miles they had to still travel would be far too great to outride men determined to fight her escort.

The horses were nearly to the crannog and she could now see the men and the horses inside the crannog, swords in hand, tense, ready. Two men had arrows and bows readied as they peered through the slots between the boulders.

“‘Tis Gildas,” Rob said quietly.

“And Kayne,” Finbar said.

The men galloped onto the peninsula and soon entered the crannog. They dismounted and Rob took their reins and led the horses to the other side of the barrier to stay with the others.

“What happened?” Marcus asked, his voice hushed.

“We were attacked. Halwn and the rest of our brothers are coming,” Kayne said, then drank some ale.

“We killed a couple of their men,” Gildas said, “but there were too many of them.”

“How many?” Marcus asked.

“We counted fifteen torches among them. Mayhap more. We targeted two of the men closest to us as they had seen us and we had no choice. We hoped to kill them without alerting the others, but that didna happen. Then we left in a hurry as their men gathered to fight us,” Kayne said.

Isobel was now standing, shaken, again wanting to leave this place before they were surrounded.

“Go, Rob, get reinforcements,” Marcus said.

Rob immediately mounted his horse and took off.

But it would take two hours or so for him to reach the castle and another two to return with more men.

“We stay here as there isna any way that we could reach the keep before we are engaged in combat,” Marcus said.

“Was it MacLauchlan’s men?” Isobel asked.

“We couldna tell, lass,” Kayne said. “All we know is that they were looking for you, and we overheard their plans to stop us before we reached the safety of the castle. They have been here for some time, and waiting on us, though they were no’ sure which path we would take. Then one of their scouts had seen our tracks in the mud and informed them as to our increased number. Though they were no’ for sure if the riders included you and Marcus or if they were more of his kin scouting the area for trouble.”

“I would send you off with a couple of my men, if I thought you could travel to the keep without running into trouble,” Marcus said, “but I fear it would be too much of a risk.”

She agreed and was glad that at least the Chattan brothers were all accounted for.

“They could barrage us with arrows, but they would chance hitting Lady Isobel,” Angus said.

“They have only the one way in, and the peninsula can only take a couple of horses at a time so they willna be able to reach us en masse,” Marcus said. “We will have to wait for reinforcements. They may think to cut us off and not have that ability.”

The sun was rising, though a thick gray mist cloaked the area still, and Isobel was glad for that because the men coming for her wouldn’t be able to clearly see them any more than they could see the brigands. She was relieved that this location seemed to be defendable by the small force.

“Rest,” Marcus said to the brothers, but they looked like they were ready for a fight and resting wasn’t in the plans. “You have been on guard duty. Rest. If the fighting begins, you need to be well-rested.”

Gildas, the oldest of the brothers here, said, “Aye. Grab your plaids, brothers. Marcus is right.”

Drummond, the youngest, grunted. Of all the brothers, he was the hothead and the first ready for a battle.

When the brothers settled down, the others made their horses lie down so the aggressors could not see how many they numbered. And then everyone remained quiet. Four of the men readied bows and arrows at the gaps between the stones or at the entrance to the crannog.

Everyone else took seats and watched out the openings for any sign of movement. Isobel wanted to watch also, but Marcus wanted her away from any of the openings for her own protection. She still wanted to watch, to do something, should she see some sign of the men and help to alert the others if nothing else.

He sat down with her on the grassy floor and took her in his arms. She wasn’t sure what he was intending to do until he whispered, “Sleep, lass, so that when we have a chance, we can leave here and continue on our way.”

He acted as though there would be no fight and that everything was calm.

“You didna have enough sleep,” he said. “I hadna intended for us to wake that early.”

Realizing she could do nothing else, she curled up against Marcus’s body. He wrapped the spare plaid around them and he closed his eyes.

She noted some of the men casting glances their way, smiling a little. She suspected if they could have been where Marcus was, they would have traded places in a heartbeat.

“Marcus?” she whispered.

“Aye, lass.”

“I do not want to go with those men.”

“Aye, and you willna.”

“But if it means no blood would be shed…”

He shook his head. “I wouldna give you up to keep the peace. What kind of a husband would that make me?”

“I was just thinking that if it would make any difference at all…”

“Nay.”

She sighed and for a short while she slept until she felt Marcus tense beneath her, and she heard the sound of horses moving toward them. Her skin freckled with goose bumps. She wished there was some reasonable way out of this.

“Five men are moving out of the fog,” Finbar whispered.

“Should we shoot them?” Angus said.

Niall ground his teeth. “I would be done with them, reduce the numbers we have to fight.”

“Nay,” Marcus said, watching the men. “They have to know they are a target. Let them have their say.”

The men stopped far enough away that they were not a threat unless they were armed with bows and arrows.

“Marcus McEwan, hand over the lass, known as Lady Isobel, and we will leave in peace,” one of the men said, his hair and beard black.

At once, Marcus recognized the man’s voice. “Tearloch, Laren’s right hand man. If Laren sent him to fetch the lass, he means business.”

“
Now
do we shoot them full of arrows?” Niall asked.

Marcus smiled at Niall, then shouted out to Tearloch, “The lass prefers to stay with her husband. You have come on a fool’s errand, Tearloch. Tell Laren that he has no claim to Isobel.”

“Since he is her da, he begs to differ with you. ‘Twas a travesty that Pembroke claimed her as his own. Now that he is dead, ‘tis time to rectify that.”

To Marcus’s surprise and concern, Isobel joined him at the entryway to the stone structure. He quickly took a protective stance at her side, hoping she didn’t intend to offer herself up to Laren’s men in an attempt to protect him and the rest of their escort. One of the men serving as archers, moved to protect her also.

“How can he claim me now when he never did before?” Isobel called out to Tearloch, her tone angry. “My father was and will always be the one who raised me, loved me, and provided for me. I know not who your laird is, nor do I care to. I am wed to Laird Marcus McEwan. So as Marcus has said, you have been sent on a fool’s—”

An arrow shot out of the fog toward the opening of the stone enclosure, and Marcus scooped Isobel up in his arms and dove for cover as everyone else ducked behind the boulders. Retaliating, the archers in Marcus’s party shot arrows at the quickly retreating Tearloch and his men. Two went down after their horses reached the mainland and the wounded men landed in the grasses. Tearloch and the other three managed to escape.

“The archer was aiming for you,” Angus said to Marcus.

“Good thing he is a lousy shot,” Marcus said.

“He cannot believe that if they killed you, I would go willingly with the men, can they?” she asked with such incredulity, Marcus had to smile.

“Nay, lass.” He frowned then. “They know I lead the party here and if they were able to eliminate me, mayhap the rest would feel leaderless.”

Angus and Gunnolf snorted.

“Aye, my feelings also,” Marcus said. “Any of the men here would see to your safety. But to Tearloch and his men’s way of thinking, it would be one less man that they would have to deal with. They dinna know how many strong we are. Until more of my men can arrive, we will just have to wait them out. They may think of attacking at nightfall, which would be my tactic, but my men will arrive well before that.”

“I hate the waiting. I wish we could do something,” Isobel said.

“Aye, I agree,” Marcus said, sitting beside her again and taking her in his arms to keep her warm. “Sometimes the waiting is worse than the fighting.”

Isobel was already chilled again and trembled either from the cold or from the fright of what had just occurred. Thankfully, the stones in the form of walls provided protection from the most chilling winds. But the air around them was still cold.

“What was this building used for?” she asked.

“A place to weather a storm, a semi-defensive structure. At one time it had a thatched roof, but a gale tore it off and no one has had the time or need to replace it. Though if we had a roof like that now, archers could burn us out and that wouldna bode well.”

“Aye. You…you dinna mind if we wait until Mary joins us before we have a wedding, do you?”

“Nay, lass. Whatever you wish.”

“I wish Tearloch and his men to go away.”

“As do I.”

“More riders are approaching from the southeast,” Angus warned.

“What the devil are they doing?” Marcus said, leaving Isobel and peering between the boulders.

“I canna see who they are as the fog hides them from us. More of Laren’s men, mayhap?” Gunnolf said.

“I would think he would have had them with him all this time,” Marcus said.

Then the sound of fighting began in the fog.

Everyone inside the enclosure was tense, waiting for an order.

“We come in peace!” a man shouted.

“Lord Wynfield!” Isobel cried out.

Marcus glanced at her.

“He must have come with an escort of men to see if I had been brought here. He has not fought since he was a young man. Tearloch and his men will kill them,” Isobel said with tears in his eyes.

Marcus had thought it was Wynfield, but seeing the stricken look on Isobel’s face, he knew it was for sure.

“I will take a dozen men with me. The rest stay here and protect Isobel.”

“There are at least thirteen of their men out there,” Angus warned. “I will go with you.”

“And me,” Gildas said.

“And however many men Wynfield has.” Marcus hoped they were fighting men.

“I will go,” Niall said, and Gunnolf was already getting their horses to stand.

Halwn and Kayne also volunteered, though Drummond wished to go as well.

“Nay, I wish Isobel well protected. That leaves the three of you brothers, two more of your men, and Finbar.”

“Aye,” they said, acknowledging that their job was just as important.

Marcus mounted his horse and led the party toward the sound of shouting and he and the others rode half a mile into the fog before they could see the men who were fighting. Lord Wynfield had eight or nine men with him, it appeared and he was holding his own.

Marcus rode up to dispatch the man who was fighting him and wheeled around to fight a new attacker. Marcus still had not seen Tearloch, but as soon as he was able, he would fight the man. Marcus was certain that if he killed Tearloch, his men would indeed feel leaderless and scurry home to their laird.

“These are not your men?” Wynfield called out, sounding winded and surprised.

“Nay. They claim kinship to Isobel and want to take her with them. But I have married the lass and she isna going anywhere.” Marcus swung his sword at a MacLauchlan clansman, connecting steel against steel in a loud clang.

“Her father would have to approve.” Wynfield took another swing at one of MacLauchlan’s men.

Marcus struck at the man fighting him and dealt him a killing blow. The villain fell from his horse and the animal ran off. He turned to fight the man Wynfield was struggling to defeat and saw that the baron had been cut across his leg. Marcus again rode to his aid.

“Go, Wynfield. Directly west, cross the peninsula to the crannog. Isobel is there. She will care for your wounds.”

“You need me…”

“Nay. You can protect her there.”

Marcus killed the man who had been fighting Wynfield, and the baron said, “Her father lives.”

He rode off in the direction Marcus told him to ride and Marcus stared at him in disbelief.

His thoughts in turmoil as he considered Lord Wynfield’s words, Marcus watched the baron ride off. He couldn’t believe Lord Pembroke was truly alive. Had Wynfield lied about the earl? That Isobel’s father, or at least the one who had raised her, had not died?