The Highlander's Forbidden Bride (13 page)

C
arissa remained on the edge of the woods, the open field stretching out before her, and waited. Her opponents had made one intelligent move when they chose the open field for the place of exchange. Though her bowmen were hidden in the surrounding trees, it was still a good distance for an accurate shot. Some of the men could probably hit their target, they were that skilled, but if even one missed, it would endanger Dykar’s life. So she had left orders that none were to release an arrow until Dykar was safe.

Five riders emerged from the woods on the far side of the field and, not wasting a moment, she rode forward. The sooner this was done the better for all. She kept her horse at a decent pace, not anxious or slow but appearing confident. Confidence, especially from a woman, seemed to intimidate men.

As she approached, she could see that Dykar had suffered a beating at their hands, and that made her angry. His lower right lip and chin were swollen, and the corner of his left eye had yet to finish
bruising. She imagined he also had bruises elsewhere, and she was ready to take on these heathens herself for what they had done to her friend.

She slowed her horse as she reached them, seeing their smug grins, and knew they thought themselves victorious. How lucky that her father had taught her never to assume victory until you hold it in the palm of your hand.

She stopped a few feet in front of them. “Send my man to me.”

“No,” shouted the largest of the four mercenaries. “You come to us, then we will release him.”

“That’s not going to happen,” she assured them in a sharp tone.

“You don’t have a choice,” a skinny fellow who looked in need of a good washing said.

“But I do,” she said confidently. “I can turn around and ride away, or you can send my man to me.”

The four men laughed, and the largest said, “We’d stop you.”

“You could try,” she said, her horse sensing that battle approached and prancing impatiently.

The men grumbled among themselves, which gave Carissa more time to assess the situation. No doubt they would meet her demand, though once they did, she would need to move quickly, for to her their intention was clear…they would kill Dykar once he was a distance from them.

With Dykar’s hands tied, he wouldn’t be of much help, and she would have to move swiftly. She had dirks and daggers concealed on her person and in
easy reach. Speed and momentum were her best allies. She couldn’t hesitate; if she did, all would be lost.

“You approach, and we’ll send him to meet you,” the skinny one ordered.

That was fine with her. It brought her closer to her targets.

She nodded, though her action was more a message to Dykar, and she knew he would read it wisely and be prepared. She had no time to free his hands to help her. The men would be on her before then, so he would do best to stay out of her way and out of the line of fire.

She moved forward, and one of them gave Dykar’s horse a slap that sent him forward as well. She whispered to her horse to hold steady and kept a cold stare at the men beyond, so that they would not take their eyes off her, leaving her hands free to reach for her weapons.

Dykar had almost reached her when she saw the skinny one move. She yelled for Dykar to get down, and as he slipped off the horse, all hell broke loose.

Ronan and his brothers’ group caught up with Septimus, who silenced them with a sharp-eyed reproach. He then motioned Ronan, Cavan, and Artair forward and pointed to the open field beyond.

Ronan couldn’t believe what he saw. Carissa sat alone out in the open facing five riders. Though she was petite, she appeared tall and poised atop her
horse. Her shoulders were squared, and she held her head high. He could imagine her tongue was probably sharper than her sword and would inflict more damage.

Septimus kept his voice to a bare whisper. “We wait.”

Ronan looked ready to argue, but Septimus shook his head.

“Your impatience will endanger her and Dykar.”

Ronan didn’t like it, but he agreed and waited with little patience and a great deal of anxiety.

When Dykar began to ride forward, Ronan and his brothers were prepared to make their move, but once again Septimus cautioned their actions.

“Wait until I give the order,” he whispered.

Ronan couldn’t understand what he was thinking. Then he realized that Carissa had probably ordered him to wait until Dykar was clear before attacking, leaving her much too vulnerable. And there was something else that troubled him. He couldn’t see Carissa allowing herself to be caught. She would know the consequences of being captured by the mercenaries.

That was when it struck him and he sent a heated glare to Septimus.

“She doesn’t intend to be taken alive, does she?” Ronan said.

“Her orders,” Septimus said.

“The hell with her orders,” Ronan said, and raced his mare forward just as all hell broke loose on the field.

Carissa’s dirk flew from her hand, followed by another, and she didn’t stop to see where they hit, though the skinny man and another toppled off their horses. She reached for her dagger and got another man before he reached her, the dagger going straight to his heart. She saw Dykar run for one of the fallen men and she knew he intended to retrieve a weapon and free himself to help her, but would there be time?

A large man launched himself at her before she could grab for another dirk, and they tumbled to the ground together. His weight was his biggest advantage, and he used it, pinning her to the ground with his girth.

“You did me a favor,” he laughed, as she struggled helplessly beneath him. “Now you and the reward are all mine.”

Arrows suddenly landed around them.

The large man released a string of oaths and hurried to his feet, surprisingly fast for a man his size, and grabbed her wrist. She saw Dykar struggling to cut free of the rope that bound his wrists while the last of the five men descended on him.

The large man paid him no heed. Instead, he began dragging her toward the cover of the woods, and when he whistled, his horse followed, providing some cover from the flying arrows.

She couldn’t let him get her to the safety of the woods. Septimus and her men would be riding to her rescue, and Dykar would be in his own battle. She had to do something, but his grip was tight.

She swung at him with a tight fist that landed on his jaw and sent a pain racing through her hand. But it stopped him, and the look on his face told her she’d better brace for a worse blow than she delivered.

He raised a meaty fist and her eyes turned wide as she heard a bloodcurdling shout, and suddenly a man flew through the air and landed with a solid thud on her captor, sending him and her sprawling to the ground.

The large man refused to let go of her while he beat at the man with his free hand.

It took her a minute to realize that her rescuer was Ronan. For a brief moment, her heart soared. He had come to save her, and when he took a hard blow that knocked him to the ground, she grew furious.

She began pummeling the large man and scratching at him like a wildcat. It was enough for him. Before she could stop him, he sent a blow to her cheek that jolted her head back and sent her stumbling until she hit the ground hard.

Though not before she heard Ronan growl like an enraged animal, “For that you die!”

She saw nothing after that, for darkness claimed her.

It took Septimus, Cavan, and Artair to pull Ronan off the bloody man, and when they did, Ronan struggled free of them and rushed to Carissa’s side. He was relieved to see that Zia and his mother were already there.

He ignored the chaos around him, never realizing that the other mercenaries with the motley five had emerged from the woods and were now engaged in battle. His only concern had been Carissa.

“You’re bleeding,” Zia said with concern.

He glanced down at his arm and saw that his sleeve was slashed and soaking up blood. He then recalled knocking a man from his horse to reach Carissa and recalled the feel of his sword slicing across his arm as he fell to the ground.

“It will wait,” he said adamantly. “See to Carissa first.”

“She has suffered a hit to her face and a blow to her head,” Zia said. “I can do nothing for her now. It is more important that I see to your arm.”

“Listen to her,” Addie urged.

“After we get Carissa to safety,” he said determinedly.

“It is not safe to move her in this melee,” Zia said, nodding to the chaos around them. “Let me see to your arm, so that you will be able to help move her when we can.”

Ronan agreed since he intended to be the one to see her to safety. He didn’t particularly worry about the disorder surrounding them. Septimus and his men and his brothers seemed to have everything well in hand and were cleaning up after themselves.

Zia tore his sleeve off, and while she cleansed and announced the wound would need only a wrapping to have it heal, he noticed Carissa stir.

“She wakes,” Addie said.

“That is good,” Zia said with a smile, and they both turned to her.

Carissa felt the pain radiate from her jaw up along her cheek. And then there was the dull throb in the back of her head. Her hand pained her as well. She fought her way out of the dark, though as she did, the pain worsened, and she wondered if she should remain where she was. But something warned her against it, and so she fought.

“Carissa,” the soft voice said. “Open your eyes. You’re all right.”

The soft voice kept urging her, and while she wanted to oblige, the pain held her back until…

“Damn it, Carissa, open your eyes!”

“Shouting at her isn’t going to help,” the soft voice said.

“I agree,” Carissa said, her eyes fluttering open only to squeeze shut when the light hit them.

“Open your eyes,” the strong voice demanded.

She was so annoyed with the command that she intended to open her eyes and tell him exactly what he could do with his order, but she slipped back into the peaceful darkness.

After a bit more of a struggle, she got them open and her mouth followed, ready to attack him with her sharp tongue when she saw that it was Ronan and she saw that the creases of worry around his eyes and mouth had deepened, and her heart melted.

“Ronan,” she whispered softly, and reached out to him.

He took her hand and held it firm in his. “You should have never left me.”

“My brother is right,” Cavan said, coming up behind Ronan. “You gave your word to my brother and had an obligation to return home with him.”

Carissa bristled at Cavan’s scolding tone and struggled to sit up, though pain shot through her head and cheek, and she winced at the sharp ache.

Ronan tried to stop her, but she would have none of it. She grabbed hold of his arm and hoisted herself up, though he helped once he saw that she wouldn’t be dissuaded.

“I had an obligation to my friend,” she snapped.

“I would have taken care of it,” Cavan said.

“Since I couldn’t be sure of that, I couldn’t take the chance.” Carissa held on to Ronan as she struggled to stand.

“We can discuss this later,” Ronan said, slipping his arm around her waist and practically lifting her off the ground to rest against him.

She allowed him to support her weight, not feeling strong enough to stand on her own just yet. But lacking strength or not, she would not cower to his brother.

“It makes no difference to me if your brother wishes to speak now,” she said. “I expected no less of him.”

“And I expect no less of you…a barbarian,” Cavan spat. “The only reason I give you any quarter is because you may carry my brother’s child.”

Carissa was stunned silent. While she should have considered the possibility, she hadn’t. Too much had happened too fast for her to have given it a thought. Not that she would mind having Ronan’s child, truly she would love to. But if it was the only reason Cavan would not see her punished, or that Ronan had come to her rescue, then her fate rested on whether or not she was with child.

She had waited long enough. She intended to wait no more.

“I will face my fate with you whether with child or not,” she said.

“It is not your choice,” Cavan said, and looked to Zia standing beside Artair. “Is she fit to travel?”

Carissa pushed away from Ronan though she wavered before finding solid footing and brushed away Ronan’s helping hand. “It is me you ask, not her.”

Cavan glared at her. “If Zia tells me you need to rest, you will rest.”

Carissa laughed. “You may command the Sinclares, but you don’t command me.” She stepped forward, and shouted. “Dykar!”

He maneuvered his way through the Sinclares to stand before her.

“Ready the men to leave,” she ordered.

“My warriors can easily stop your small troop,” Cavan said.

She laughed again. “Do you think me a fool to
come here with only a few men?” She looked to Dykar again. “Call the men out.”

Dykar let loose with a mighty roar, and before they knew it, they were surrounded with a fighting force that surpassed Cavan’s warriors.

Ronan stepped forward. “This has gone far enough.” He looked to Cavan. “I told Carissa you are a fair laird, and she agreed to return with me to face whatever fate you decreed.”

“And then she took her leave without a word to you,” Cavan said.

“That is for her and me to settle,” Ronan said with a hint of a challenge.

Artair stepped between his brothers. “This matter should wait to be settled when we get home.” Artair leaned over to whisper to Cavan. “And remember what you promised your wife.”

Cavan cringed. “We wait on the matter.”

Dykar took Carissa’s arm, ready to help her to her horse.

Ronan put a hand on his arm. “She’ll ride with me.”

“No,” Carissa said. “I ride with my men.”

“You return with us,” Ronan said.

“She will not go without us,” Dykar said.

Ronan looked to Cavan, for it was the laird’s decision, not his, as to what would be done.

“You may come with her, no more,” Cavan said. “Elsewise, there will be a battle.”