The Warrior

by Kinley MacGregor

  She couldn’t believe her luck as she brushed at the dirt on her gown. Nor could she believe Lochlan would be willing to protect her when no one else had stepped forward.

  As her captors neared, Lochlan pulled his sword from its sheath.

  “Stand down,” the largest guard sneered at him, not knowing that this was one of the most powerful lairds in Scotland. “This be the king’s business.”

  Lochlan scoffed at the man’s commanding tone. “King’s business, my arse. I don’t see the man here and if you have issue with the woman, then you have issue with me.”

  Cat smiled for the first time in days. She couldn’t believe someone was finally taking up for her…and it was Lochlan MacAllister no less. He was nothing if not a man who lived his entire life by the rules. She’d never dreamed he would protect her like this.

  The shorter guard took a step forward.

  Lochlan swung the sword around his body, preparing to engage him.

  The man must have come to his senses as he saw Lochlan’s obvious skill. He stepped back to a safer distance. “We are under royal orders to deliver her to Paris.”

  Lochlan glanced at her over his shoulder. “Do you want to go to Paris, Catarina?”

  “Not on their lives.”

  He tsked at her guards. “Well now, the lady has spoken. If you truly have a royal decree, lad, I suggest you show it to me. Otherwise, step back and step down, or you’ll be sitting on steel marks for the rest of your life.”

  A tic worked in the guard’s jaw. “You’re making a deadly err.”

  “Then you can play a giddy tune over me grave.” Lochlan gave a sharp whistle.

  A tall gray horse neighed before it galloped over to him. Lochlan swung himself onto the saddle before he held his hand out to her while keeping his sword angled toward the men.

  Cat took his hand and allowed him to pull her up behind him before he spurred his horse into a dead run. Wrapping her arms around his lean waist, she squeezed him tightly in gratitude. If not for the fact she hated the very air this man breathed, she’d kiss him for what he’d done for her.

  “Thank you,” she said in his ear.

  Lochlan didn’t speak as he looked behind him to see that the other two were running for their horses. Damn the luck. He’d have to fight them again, no doubt.

  When he’d stopped in the village for supplies and to rest a bit, the last thing he’d expected to find had been the woman who was cousin to his sister-in-law Nora.

  The last time he’d seen Catarina had been her brief visit to his castle after she and her family had saved his brother Ewan’s life. She’d driven him near mad with her stubborn insults and he’d gladly bidden her farewell and had hoped to never lay eyes on her again.

  Apparently his luck hadn’t changed for the better in recent months.

  Still, he owed this woman his brother’s life and as such he was determined to save her from whatever mess she’d gotten herself into.

  “Why are those men after you?” he asked over his shoulder.

  “My father, Lucifer roast his toes, sicced them on me.”

  “Your father?”

  “Aye. There’s a man he wants me to marry. Be damned before I go quietly to that altar.”

  Lochlan smiled in spite of their danger. He couldn’t agree more with the sentiment. “I feel for your situation, lass. Did he hire them to abduct you?”

  “How did you know?”

  “The fact there’s no Viktor or Bavel watching over you.” Her uncle and cousin were extremely protective of her. Wherever she went, they followed. The only way she could be here without them would have been for the men after them to have taken her.

  “They kidnapped me from the inn where we were resting. I’m sure both of them are worried sick.”

  No doubt. Personally, he’d be grateful for the peace her absence would bring. But that was another matter.

  He felt her turning behind him. “They’re gaining on us.”

  Cursing, he looked to verify the truth of her statement. “They are persistent.”

  “Like worms after sunshine.”

  Lochlan was bemused by her expression, creative though it was. “Just how much did your father pay them for your abduction?”

  “I don’t think it’s the payment that spurs them on so much as the fear of his wrath.”

  “And who is your father to warrant such terror?”

  “Philip,” she said simply.

  Lochlan frowned. “Philip who?”

  She duplicated his scowl. “Were you not listening when they told you? Philip Capet.”

  Lochlan froze as that name penetrated his mind. “King Philip of France?”

  “Is there another?”

  A sick feeling went through him. Lochlan had never felt more foolish in all his life, which, considering the fact he’d often run herd on four wayward brothers, said much for the moment. “Are you telling me that I have just abducted a princess of France from royal custody?”

  “Nay, Lochlan MacAllister. You’ve just liberated a Moldavian princess from a man who thinks he can force her to marry against her will just because he says so.”

  He ground his teeth in anger. “I thought you were a peasant.”

  “That depends on whom you ask.”

  A feeling of dread clenched him. “If I don’t receive a satisfactory answer from you, my lady, I’m going to slow down and ask the men who are following us exactly what they think.”

  Cat growled at his words. No wonder she hated this man. He was inflexible and stringent. She doubted if ever he’d met a rule he didn’t absolutely love. “Fine then. My mother was the illegitimate daughter of a Moldavian prince and a peasant. Her father brought her to court when she was a young woman and there she met a man named Philip who shared her love of horses…they shared other things as well and she soon found herself pregnant with me. Since Philip wasn’t free to marry her and she wanted no one else, she left her father’s court to live with her mother’s people. There I was raised until I was old enough for my father to see a political advantage to having a daughter tied to the Moldavian and Hungarian monarchies—even if I am illegitimate. And since that day of his sudden discovery, I have been on the move, trying my best to avoid any and all contact with him.”

  “Did you not think this information might prove pertinent to me before I threatened your guards?”

  “Of course not. Besides, I threatened them first and assaulted them as well.”

  “Hmmm and shall that be your testimony on my behalf when your father demands my head?”

  She scoffed at him. “You’re not really afraid of my father, are you?”

  “For myself, nay, I fear nothing. However, I’m not merely a man, Catarina. I am the MacAllister, just as your father is France. Whatever actions I take affect the lives of every person who looks to me for leadership. And I will not see my people punished because you are willful and stubborn.”

  “What do you mean by that?”

  “Simple. I’m taking you to your father.”

  Chapter 2

  Cat wasn’t sure if she’d heard that correctly or not. “You’re planning to do what?”

  “Take you to your father.”

  She didn’t know what irked her more, his intent or that arrogant look on his face as he said it. “Why would you do that?”

  “To keep him from declaring war on my people for starters. Do not forget that King Philip’s sister happens to be the wife to Alexander Canmore. Alexander is one of the few who could do a lot of damage to my people.”

  She couldn’t believe this. “So you’re just going to cow to my father like everyone else? And to think I thought you were made of sterner stuff.”

  His features hardened. “This isn’t a game, Catarina. I hold the responsibility for every person who claims MacAllister lands as home.”

  She snorted dismissively. “Your shoulders are mighty narrow to carry so much weight.”

  He looked as offended as she meant for him to be. “
My shoulders aren’t narrow.”

  She glanced down at them. “Matter of opinion that. But then perhaps ’tis the bow of your back from stooping to kiss the feet of men like my father that makes them appear so.”

  He reined his horse in sharply to glower at her. “Have you no sense to insult me so?”

  “I have plenty of sense to insult you even more. I’m the daughter of the king. What are you going to do to stop me?”

  His nostrils flared as those blue eyes snapped fire at her. “Your father should have bent you over his knee.”

  “Violence. How perfectly masculine of you to resort to such a thought.”

  Lochlan snarled at her like a feral lion before he laid spurs to the horse’s flanks. The sudden motion almost caused her to slip from her seat.

  She was forced to wrap her arms around his waist to keep from falling even though the thought of touching him made her ill. “Are you trying to kill me?”

  “Nay, my lady. I’m trying only to calm down before I succeed in killing you.”

  Unable to stand it and do nothing, she leaned forward to nip his shoulder.

  Lochlan yelped at the unexpected pain. “Did you bite me?”

  “Aye and I’m going to do worse than that if you don’t release me instantly.”

  “Fine,” he snapped, reining his horse again. As soon as it was stopped, he turned in the saddle to look at her. “There you are, my lady. You’re free.”

  She was aghast at his actions. “What?”

  He gestured toward the ground. “You wish to run? Have at it.”

  Surely he wasn’t serious…“You would abandon me to the wilderness? Alone?”

  “Oh I assure you, ’tis the bears and wolves I pity should they run into the likes of you.”

  Rage filled her as she wished for the millionth time that she’d been born a man. If she had, she’d beat Lochlan MacAllister to an inch of his life. “You are a louse.”

  He looked past her to the guards, who were almost upon them now. “Here are your new friends. I’m sure they will be most happy to see you safely home.”

  She glared at him before she jumped to the ground. “You foul…foul thing!” she spat before she gathered her skirts and started running on foot.

  Lochlan sat back in his saddle as he watched her run as quickly as she could. She was swift-footed for a maid and his abandoning her was exactly what she deserved for her insults. But his satisfaction ended when he saw the guards catch up to her. The largest man, who was the size of a bear, grabbed her roughly, wrenching her from the ground by one arm before he tossed her in front of him over the back of his horse. She screamed and cursed, kicking her legs and trying to bite the man, who moved his leg out of harm’s reach and kept her in place with one hand.

  Lochlan cringed at the sight of her riding on her stomach. He’d been forced to do it a time or two and knew firsthand how painful it could be.

  What care you? ’Tis her father’s business.

  But the truth was he couldn’t stand to see anyone, even a shrew such as she mistreated.

  She bit you.

  Again, true. Still, she’d saved Ewan’s life…He owed her much for that.

  Och now, Lochlan, don’t even think it.

  It was too late, he was already spurring his horse after them. The men took one look at him and immediately urged their horses faster.

  “Wait!” Lochlan shouted. At the pace they were going, they would hurt her for sure.

  But they didn’t slow.

  Unwilling to cause her more injury, he dropped back from the chase to trail them. Sooner or later they would be forced to stop and rest, then he could reclaim her from them and see her home without harm or abuse.

  His shoulder twitched a reminder of her small bite. Well, she wouldn’t be abused further. The verdict was still out on whether or not he’d be so fortunate.

  As if he had time to see her home. He was on a quest to find more information about his brother Kieran, who’d vanished years ago. Since Kieran had left his sword and plaid on the shore of a loch, everyone had assumed he’d drowned himself after a woman had broken his heart. But no body had ever been found.

  That story had never faltered until a duplicate plaid had shown up the night Lysander had been killed. Since that moment, Lochlan had been searching for clues about Kieran.

  His quest had taken him to southern France, where he now believed his younger brother had gone after faking a suicide. A few days ago, Lochlan had been told of the knight who had last seen Kieran in the Holy Land. Stryder of Blackmoor.

  Stryder was at tourney in Normandy, which was what had brought Lochlan here. That tourney would only last a few days more and it was imperative he reach it before the knights packed up and left.

  If only he hadn’t seen Catarina and her current plight. Whether he wanted to be or not, he was now involved. It wasn’t in him to let her suffer even if she did deserve it.

  Damn it to hell.

  He’d been born with what his brother Braden called an ungodly sense of responsibility. His family had saddled him with it early and he’d never been able to shed it. Just once in his life he wished he could be more like Braden, Ewan, or Kieran who’d been able to live their lives for themselves. To care nothing of the consequences of their actions and how they affected others.

  Instead, he was more than aware of how one person’s thoughtlessness could impact those around him. Right now, he could ride off to attend his own business and Catarina could be maimed by the carelessness of her guards. By turning his back on her, anything could happen to her and it would be his fault for not helping her while he’d had the opportunity.

  It was something that would weigh on his conscience for eternity.

  “I’m not a martyr,” he breathed angrily. But he was a man of his word and one of conviction…and she was a woman currently being abused by the very men hired to protect her.

  That was wrong and he knew it.

  So he followed them for almost an hour before they finally stopped to rest. Silently, he dismounted and left his horse to graze while he crept closer to where they’d stopped.

  The guard holding Catarina practically threw her to the ground. “You run again and God as my witness, I’ll break both your legs.”

  Catarina lifted her chin in defiance. “You wouldn’t dare.”

  “Try it.”

  She stood with a grace and dignity that actually touched him. Lochlan had to give her credit, she was audacious as she confronted the larger man. She looked tiny and frail by comparison, but even so she wasn’t intimidated. Her confidence astounded him.

  Pieces of her long, black hair had come free of her braid and danced around her pale skin in the breeze, teasing at her cheeks and neck. Her dark eyes were livid and a slight blush darkened her cheeks. Truly, she was beautiful.

  But only when she was silent.

  The other man came forward to truss her up with a rope. She ducked his hands and shoved at him. Before she could move away, the man backhanded her so hard, she fell to the ground.

  His temper snapping out of control, Lochlan crossed the distance between them in record time and grabbed the man as he moved to strike her again. He punched him hard, then slung him into the other, who’d come forward to help.

  Cat couldn’t believe her eyes as Lochlan turned, picked her up from the ground, and swung her onto the saddle of the horse closest to her. After handing her the reins, he slapped the horse’s flanks, sending her on her way before he turned back to confront her guards.

  Her cheek stung horribly from the blow the one man had given her. But she didn’t pay any attention to it as she guided her horse away from the men. All she wanted was to be free of them forever. She kept her head bent low over the horse’s neck as they flew down the road.

  Her only thought escape, she didn’t even bother to look behind her until she heard the sound of approaching hooves.

  Afraid it was her guards again, Cat glanced back to see Lochlan there on his gray stallion. H
e didn’t speak as he pulled alongside her, then grabbed her reins to slow her down.

  “What are you doing?” she demanded.

  He dodged her attempts to slap his hand away, then cupped her sore cheek. “I wanted to see what damage they’d wrought. Are you all right?”

  His concern for her set her back. She wasn’t used to such kindness from anyone other than Viktor or Bavel. “What do you care?”

  Those steely eyes penetrated her with coldness. “Enough to have killed the man who did it. Now hold still and let me see the bruise.”

  Cat swallowed at his sharp tone. “You killed him?”

  “Well I certainly didn’t congratulate him on his strength. No doubt your father would have done far worse had he learned of it.”

  It was true. To strike royalty was a capital offense. But even so, she was surprised that Lochlan had taken such a personal interest in what had happened to her. It actually made her hatred of him lessen.

  Lochlan dropped his hand to her wrist, the one that was crusted in blood. “What did they do to you?”

  She pulled her hand away from him. “They tried to take me somewhere I didn’t wish to go.”

  He shook his head at her. “Are you always so hell borne?”

  “Nay, I can be quite pleasant when the mood strikes. But not when someone tries to impose his will on me with no regard to my feelings. Tell me, would you be so docile?”

  “I’m a man.”

  She narrowed her eyes on him. “And your point?”

  “I wasn’t born to be subject to another man.”

  She laughed. “Aren’t you? You’ve already told me how you’re not free to do anything without it impacting your people. Do they not then own you?”

  Lochlan arched a brow at her reasoning. She was frightfully quick. “That’s not what I meant.”

  “Of course it wasn’t. Being an ill-formed human, what would I know of rhetoric?”

  More than she should. “I’m not Aristotle, my lady. I don’t believe women are ill-formed men.”

  “Yet you accuse us of being hell borne.”

  “Nay,” he said, leaning forward to stand his ground. “I accused you of being hell borne, which you are. It was not meant as an indictment against all of your gender. Only an indictment against you.”