Mist Warrior (32 page)

His breath caught in his throat. She was exquisite, wearing a gown of pale blue which highlighted the color of her eyes. Her red-gold hair was unbound, cascading over her shoulders and streaming down to the middle of her back. The light gray of dawn made her appear as a vision before him. He strode toward her and dropped to one knee. Taking her hand, he pulled her fingers to his lips.

“
Ye are radiant inspiration for this humble knight, lass.
”

Branan
glanced up at
Catriona
as she offered him a tremulous smile. With her free hand
,
she stroked his hair.
“
Branan, I—
”
her voice cracked and her eyes filled with tears
,
but she did not allow them to escape.

“
Forgive me,
”
he whispered.
“
For my previous indiscretions.
”

“
As I hope you will forgive mine.
”
Quickly
,
she looked away and pulled something from her belt. A blue hair ribbon fluttered in her hand.
“
I pray you would bear this favor today.
”

He smiled, his heart surging in his chest and took the ribbon.
“
Gladly, lass, it shall grant me cou [ grfont sizrage and remind me of yer bonnie grace.
”

Catriona
blushed as
Branan
tied the ribbon to his belt
,
then rose.
“
Lass,
”
he whispered and took a step closer. His body coiled with the desire to sweep her into his arms and kiss her. Instead
,
he traced a fingertip across her cheek.
“
I will return soon,
”
he said and lightly brushed his lips across hers. Before his body could compel him to kiss her again, he turned away and mounted his horse.

Lifting his hand in salute to her,
Branan
spurred his horse forward, the men galloping behind him. He refused to look back, worrying he might see a tear on her cheek or the fear in her eyes that he might not return.
“
I will return, Catriona,
”
he whispered.
“
I vow it on my soul.
”

****

Branan hefted a torch, pushing his horse to greater speed. Strickland's pitiful guards ran like scared rabbits in the face of the wild hoard descending on them. He approached a large storage barn
,
filled with sacks of grain and bales of wo
ol. Standing in his stirrups, Branan
tossed the torch onto the roof, the ancient wood quickly igniting.

He
hauled his horse around, watching Gavin and Duguald add their torches. Smoke filled the air. Branan's men drove the guards away and destroyed everything in their path. The serfs, pitifully abused, stared in shock. Branan spotted a man who looked stronger than the others. He pulled his horse to a stop.

“
You there,
”
he barked.
“
Fetch that wagon and gather grain and supplies from the building at the far end.
”

The man's eyes widened.
“
Ye...ye want me to take supplies from Lord Strickland?
”

“
He has taken them from ye, has he no
’
? Stolen the food from the verra mouths of yer bairns.
”

The serf stared at him another moment.

“
Ye...ye are the MacTavish...the true heir of the Wardenship.
”

“
Aye, laddie. I mean to take back what is mine and ye need to do the same.
”

A slow smile creased
the man’s
face. Abruptly
,
he turned and barked at the people, taking the wagon to the remaining storehouse.

Gavin pulled to a stop beside Branan.
“
We have done well this day.
”

Branan nodded.
“
What's the count?
”

“
Two wagons of grain, flour and wool. Along with a very large cask of ale. But we have to hurry. Strickland's guards hied themselves off for reinforcements.
”

Branan pointed to the serfs.
“
They'll make short work of the rest.
”

Gavin chuckled.
“
Look, they are even tearing apart the building for us.
”

“
Aye, mayhap we shall just leave them to it.
”

“
They will be long gone by the time reinforcements arrive.
”

Branan grinned and nodded.
“
Let's go.
”

****

Catriona tried to distract herself with work
,
but her gaze kept wandering toward the trail. Branan had been gone for hours. How long would this take? What if something happened? What if he was killed or captured? How would they learn his fate, how would they know what to do?

She rubbed her eyes. She was going to drive herself insane like this.

A faint
sound of voices reached her. Catriona
looked up, blinking in confusion. Down the trail, a large group of men and wagons approached. It took a moment for her to realize the voices were singing.

Singing?

She dropped her work and sprinted. Branan led the group, grinning like a little boy. Soot streaked his face and clothing
,
but he appeared hale. Catriona found herself running toward him.

He saw her and laughed, vaulting from his horse. Catriona threw herself into his arms and he spun her around. Suddenly
,
Branan
kissed her powerfully. Catriona's sense reeled in surprise and pleasure. He pulled away, his eyes once again sparking vibrantly.
“
Lassie, a fine time we had.
”

“
I can see that.
”

Branan
touched her nose with his finger.
“
Och, I shouldna ha' done that. I've mussed ye.
”

She giggled at the thickening of his brogue.

“
The wagon and men rumbled past them. Catriona spotted a large cask that had already been tapped.
“
Now I know the reason for the song and celebration.
”

He winked at her.
“
I found myself quite parched on the trail and the lads deserved it.
”

She laughed and Branan looped his arm over her shoulders.
“
Come, love, let us enjoy the fruits of our first successful labor.
”

****

Branan's head pounded mercilessly. God's wounds! What had he been thinking? He hadn't gotten that
roaring drunk in a long time. Branan
couldn't remember exactly what happened last night
,
but he did recall laughing and enjoying himself. Perchance the headache was worth it.

A feminine form stirred next to him and he blinked in shock
,
then horror.
“
Catriona?
”

She groaned, burying her face against his chest.
“
My head hurts.
”

What...? When...? His thoughts scrambled. Wait, they still had their clothes on. That
was a good sign. They were
next to the smoldering campfire. In fact,
Branan
noted many others had not been able to reach their beds. Abruptly
,
he wanted to kick himself. What had he done? He wanted nothing more than to love Catriona
,
but he didn't want to be so blinding drunk he couldn't remember anything.

“
Catriona....I....
”

She blinked up at him, her eyes red.
“
I'm sorry I fell asleep on you. I was just warm and comfortable under your plaid.
”

He whispered a small sigh of relief. His arms tightened around her and he found he didn't want to let her go.

“
I should get cleaned up,
”
she said and stretched luxuriously next to him.

Branan gritted his teeth as his body suddenly came alive.

“
MacTavish,
”
a voice cried.
“
A messenger from Courcy approaches.
”

He was abruptly grateful for the distraction, quickly rolling [ick>”

“
You have leaves in your hair,
”
she whispered, brushing them away.

Branan glanced down at himself.
“
I'm a mess.
”

She laughed and hurried off to her shelter.

Branan did his best to dust himself off and approached the messenger who handed him a small scroll.

I understand your first raid went very well. Strickland wasted no time and destroyed some of my stores in retaliation. Remember, for every one of mine, I want two of his gone.

It was unsigned
,
but that didn't surprise Branan. He growled a curse.
“
Ye may be my benefactor
,
but I be no' yer mastiff.
”

“
What was that my lord?
”
the messenger asked.

“
Nothing. Tell yer lord I have received his message.
”
He turned on his heel and strode away, his voice booming over the camp.
“
Get up
,
ye sorry louts! We've got our marching orders.
”