Highlander's Wounded Beast (Beasts 0f The Highlands Book 3)

by Alisa Adams

  “Aunt Burnie?” Ina said, interrupting Cruim’s long description of some type of fish eggs he had eaten. Ina looked down the great hall table where her two aunts sat on the other side of the table from her. “I have a spare tartan. Would ye like it? It looks like yer cat has done some damage to yours.”

  Aunt Burnie looked at her in surprise. “Och nay,” she said simply. “He likes this one jus fine.”

  “She doesn’t have that cat at the table, does she?” Cruim asked in surprise.

  Aunt Hexy looked over at him. “Aye, and I have me wee dog. Why?”

  Cruim looked aghast at her response. “Tis no place for an animal!”

  “At least it’s not a rat,” Aunt Hexy said with a shrug, ignoring him.

  “A rat?” Cruim asked. “That’s disgusting!” he said and shuddered.

  Aunt Burnie looked at Cruim. “I remember. No hay for a lord. I remember…” Then her attention was caught by her cat once again.

  No one paid her any attention. But Cruim stared at Burnie. His cheeks were bright red.

  Ina watched him, deep in thought. He did not like Aunt Burnie or her cat. That was obvious. As for his handsome visage? He seemed a bit thin through the shoulders. Did he have any hair on his face at all? Can he grow any hair on his face, or any hair on his chest or…elsewhere? Ina thought to herself as she scrutinized him. She was picturing Beiste’s tautly muscled chest angling down into lean hips with that small strip of hair that disappeared under the waist of his breaches. She sighed as she looked down at her plate. His leather breeches outlined his muscled thighs and calves. Bulged with muscles in fact, she thought with a secret, sad smile. The likes of which I will never see again, particularly in Cruim, she thought.

  “Ah Lady Ina, your smile lights up the table,” Lord Cruim said to her, interrupting her thoughts.

  Ina looked up guiltily at him.

  “I would ask for the pleasure of your company to show me the grounds around your castle in the morn?” Cruim said in a charming voice.

  Ina frowned slightly. “I have target practice in the morning on me Clydesdale,” she said, but then caught Ceena’s eye.

  Ceena interjected, “Lady Ina is quite the horse woman. She spends most of her day riding and training horses.” Her sister was frowning at her and nodding towards Cruim.

  Ina knew she had to try. “Perhaps you would care to join me on yer horse?”

  Cruim’s mouth opened slightly. There was no emotion on his face as he stared at her. “Target practice? On horses?” His lips pursed together as if he had tasted something foul. “I think not. Horses are dirty animals. Always leave their hair and dirt on me. I shall wait until your practice is completed,” he said inclining his head regally to her.

  Ina looked over at Ceena and Tristan. They were frowning at Cruim.

  Then Ceena saw Ina staring at her. Ceena tried to smile encouragingly, but her lips trembled and her smile faded.

  Ina lowered her head.

  Think kind thoughts, think kind thoughts. Ina repeated those words to herself. And then, I must forget Beiste. I must forget Beiste.

  The next morning Ina was up bright and early. She had saddled Myrtle and had gotten to the practice field before most of the warriors. There were only a few about, readying their mounts or checking their weapons for the morning’s practice. Ina put Myrtle through her paces, taking her from a trot to a canter and back to a trot again with the slightest of commands from her seat and legs. She would then push her into a gallop down the field and slow her seat to bring her back to a canter. She needed Myrtle to always be paying attention to her body, as her hands would be busy with her weapons.

  She had loaded up her leather belt with as many dirks as she could fit into the sleeve of the leather. She wore one of her older blue tartan skirts knowing she would get dusty from Myrtle’s pounding hooves. She was just doing another gallop-canter set towards the forest on the northside of the practice field when she saw men in the woods. They were crouched low. She could clearly see their weapons. She quickly spun Myrtle around on her haunches in the canter and kicked her sharply. The mare leaped into a surging gallop as her huge haunches gathered under her to push. Dirt and grass spewed everywhere from the Clydesdale’s giant hooves. Ina bent low over her mare’s neck waiting at any moment for arrow or knives to fly. Run Myrtle! Whether she said it out loud or in her mind she did not know. She only knew that it was a prayer. She must warn the others!

  She screamed to the few young warriors at the top of the field to sound the alarm.

  Beiste was watching out the window of his room. There she was, all golden on her gold horse. That horse is massive, he thought, and its rider is so tiny and dainty and still able to control the giant horse. He was mesmerized by her as he watched her controlling the huge animal. He caught a glimpse of something moving in the forest out of the corner of his eye and turned his head from Ina to study the dark forest. There were men in there! He watched in fear as Ina galloped her mare partway back, calling to the few soldiers at the top of the field, and then spun the horse around and charged back towards the men. He could hear her war cry. Beiste wasted no time and flew out the door to his room, shouting Tristan’s name. He had on only his leather breeches, boots, and the wide leather belt holding his ribs tight.

  Tristan met him at the bottom of the stairs, wide-eyed.

  “There’s men, soldiers I think, out in the woods on the north end of the practice field. They are armed!” He was breathing heavily.

  Tristan stopped, his eyes narrowed and his jaw clenched. He looked over to Ceena, Flori, and Godet at the table breaking their fast.

  “Ina is out there!” Beiste said urgently, his deep voice bellowing in the great hall. “Give me a weapon!” he called out as he looked frantically around. His eyes settled on the mantle and he rushed to it.

  There was a large silver broadsword laying there as if put down and forgotten. Beiste grabbed it without looking at the other weapons.

  Without even a thought.

  He hefted it in his grasp, and then stopped and stared down at the sword.

  His world started to spin. He clasped his head with his other hand, clenching his teeth and trying to focus on something, anything.

  Ina!

  His world stilled with the thought of her. He spun the sword from hand to hand with a grim and eager smile.

  Then he went running for the doors of the great hall, pulling them open, just as the alarm was called from the watchmen on the outer tower above the castle’s gates.

  Tristan was immediately running just behind Beiste. “Stay here!” he commanded Ceena.

  Ceena looked at her two other sisters with a grim smile and as one they leapt to their feet.

  The sisters reached for their weapons, which were hanging on the walls of the great hall, as they too went running.

  Ina went charging towards the men who had come out of the cover of the dark forest. They were knocking their arrows, getting ready to shoot. She began flinging her dirks as fast as she could.

  She could hear shouting coming from behind her and only spared a quick glance. She saw the young warriors coming towards her on their horses, their kilts flying as they galloped. With them was another warrior with long dark hair flying out behind him as he ran. He was letting out a blood-curdling war cry as he charged on foot. Beiste!

  Ina let fly her dirks as fast as she could, hitting several of the men. More kept coming out of the woods at her. She turned Myrtle around and charged back to the others, once again bending low over Myrtle’s neck. Praying that no arrows would find their target in Myrtle’s large hind end.

  She could hear charging men behind her and suddenly felt a sharp, hard hit to her head. She lost her seat, her head going dizzy as she slid off her mare’s back. She could hear Beiste’s raging cry as she hit the ground. No sooner had she crashed to the ground than she felt him there, picking her up and running with her in his arms. Back towards the castle.

  “I am fine! Put me doon!” she
yelled at him.

  He looked down at her and slowed as he got closer to the castle. “Ye just got hit in the head, I watched it!”

  “Aye but I am fine, it knocked me off me horse is all. There’s a battle to be fought right now, I cannae be taking to me bed because I fell off me horse!” she insisted.

  Tristan was fighting a man near them. He looked over at Beiste and yelled, “If she says she can fight ye should listen to her mon!” Then Tristan motioned with his head behind them.

  Beiste heard another sharp war cry and looked to where Tristan had motioned to. He saw at the castle gates three women come charging out atop three huge draft horses just like Ina’s.

  Beiste looked down at Ina.

  “But ye are a small woman,” he said amongst the chaos going on around them.

  Ina reached up and touched his face. “I assure ye I can fight. Now PUT ME DOON!”

  “They can fight, Beiste!” Tristan yelled with a big grin on his face as his wife’s horse came crashing into the man he was battling.

  “Tristan,” Ceena shouted at him, “stop playing and get to work!”

  Tristan looked over at Beiste and winked.

  Beiste looked at Ina and put her carefully down.

  Ina immediately pulled her sword out of the scabbard that was hanging at her waist and started swinging it at the men coming at them.

  Beiste pulled the huge silver sword that he had shoved into the loop at his waist and put himself at Ina’s back. Together they fought, back to back. They stood pressed close to each other, guarding each other’s back. Beiste swung the huge sword in giant swathes as he kept the men from advancing any closer to the castle.

  “Myrtle!” he heard Ina scream. “That man is trying to grab me Myrtle!” She started to lunge away from him towards the man trying to grab the reins of her huge horse. The smaller horse he was on was making it difficult for him to manage it, however.

  Beiste grabbed Ina back to him and looked around. He spotted one of her sisters’ horses standing nearby. It must have been Ceena’s, as she was now fighting back to back with Tristan. Beiste ran up to the horse and reached up to grab the horse’s mane hair. He leapt up onto its back, kicking it towards Ina’s horse. A soldier swung at him, slicing into the belted girth holding the saddle in place. It slipped sideways and Beiste started to go with it. He grabbed at the horse’s hair again and jumped up to stand on its back, kicking the now broken saddle off and out of his way. He stood up on the horse’s back as it galloped. His muscled thighs and knees slightly bent as he moved with the horse. He held the reins in one hand while swinging his sword in broad arcs, clearing a path towards Myrtle.

  The soldier was trying desperately to get on Ina’s horse now. As Beiste came closer he did not stop but came full gallop towards the man who had finally managed to mount the big draft and was wrestling with it, trying to get the giant horse to obey him. Beiste kicked out at him, sending him flying off the horse. Beiste leaned down and quickly grabbed Myrtle’s reins. He whistled sharply and turned both horses around to gallop back up towards the castle, placing a foot on both their backs as they galloped side by side.

  Ina had stopped.

  Frozen in place.

  Her jaw dropped.

  Who was this man?

  Sards, he can ride! she thought.

  “Mhac na galla!” Tristan shouted at her with a huge grin. “That man can ride two horses at once!”

  Ina began swinging her sword again, yelling to Tristan as she fought, “I saw! He is a true horseman!” She yelled back to Tristan and Ceena, who was fighting at her husband’s back. “I wonder where Crumb is. Hiding, I am sure!”

  “And I know what that saying means. I will use that old Scottish saying and thank ye Tristan! Yes, Son of a—” but just then she had two men coming at her. She swung at them, surprising them with her speed and agility.

  Loughlin, Flori’s husband, seeing more men moving in to surround Ina, shoved her behind him.

  Beiste came galloping towards them, a look of rage on his face. He was ready to start swinging at Loughlin but Ina stepped away. “He’s on our side!” she called out to him.

  No sooner had she stepped away from Loughlin than she was scooped up on a soldier’s horse. The soldier held her in a vise-like grip. She struggled with all her might, hitting him and trying to get to her sword, but he just knocked it out of her hand. She reached for her dirks but realized she was out of them as well.

  “Beiste!” she screamed as the soldier knocked a fist against her cheek. Her pale blonde hair flew out behind her as the soldier galloped off with her in front of him on the saddle. “Beiste!” she screamed again, twisting around to look behind the man holding her.

  But Beiste was now surrounded. He had jumped down from the horses in the chaos. A large group of men quickly surrounded Beiste, Loughlin, Tristan, and Ceena.

  Ina looked frantically for her two other sisters, twisting as the man tried to get her to be still. She punched at his arms where he held her arms tightly to her sides, but she finally saw her sisters; they were fighting valiantly. Godet and Flori were using their horses as battering rams to try to get out of the group of men that had surrounded them. She saw them break through and watched as their huge mares went charging at the group of soldiers surrounding Ceena and the others.

  Ina heard Ceena whistle for her mare and watched as the mare rammed through the men surrounding her mistress. Ceena jumped up on her back and quickly motioned for Beiste to do the same. Beiste whistled and Myrtle rammed through the men to get to Beiste.

  “The horses can fight too!” Ina heard Ceena scream to Beiste.

  Flori and Godet came charging up on their drafts.

  “Up!” the sisters shouted. The giant horses sat back on their huge haunches, standing up on their strong back legs as they stood, lifting their front feet high into the air. They began striking anything that was under their massive front hooves.

  Beiste quickly commanded Myrtle to stand up in a controlled rear as well. Between Myrtle’s huge hooves and his giant sword he was able to push forward and quickly got out of the group of soldiers that had pinned them in.

  Beiste looked towards the soldier that had Ina. His eyes narrowed and he kicked Myrtle back into a full gallop.

  “Bring our sister back!” he heard her sisters call to him.

  Ina looked behind her to see Beiste galloping towards them like an avenging warrior of old. Then she looked up at the man who held her tightly as he galloped towards the woods.

  “Yer going to die me thinks,” she said to him.

  The last thing she remembered was the soldier’s fist coming towards her face, and from a distance the sound of Beiste’s cry of rage.

  8

  Ina came slowly awake. She did not open her eyes. Her head hurt too much for that. Whatever horse she was on had a very odd gate. It seemed to be listing from side to side and up and down. She thought she heard bells, or maybe it was seagulls, or both. She smelled salt water. Was she home? No, the smell was wrong. Too strong. Not pleasant.

  Slowly, carefully, she opened her eyes just a bit. The sun hit her full on the face and she winced. She looked up. There was a mast above her. The ropes and pulleys clanking against the mast were making a ringing sound. It wasn’t a bell after all. And there were seagulls.

  She was on a boat. In the sea. She carefully turned her head right and then left, wincing as she did so. She could see land past the boat railings. That was good. She didn’t see anyone about. That was also good. She appeared to be laying on the deck. It seemed all hands were involved in the battle. Then she spotted some orange and yellow tartan above some shiny boots.

  Now where had she seen that ugly tartan before? Her mind was so hazy.

  Then everything snapped into place.

  A man had taken her from the battle.

  That tartan belonged to the Earl of Breadalbane!

  A foot nudged her in the ribs.

  “Are you awake my dear?” he said.


  Ina lay there a moment. Think! she said to herself. She came up with nothing. Sometimes she really hated being a woman. A petite woman. Without her weapons. Beiste will come.

  “Beatlebrain,” she stated, “why am I here?” She clutched her head, feigning pain as she sat up and glared at him.

  “It is the Earl of Breadalbane to you my dear. Do not forget that. My fourth wife did. Alas she had to go. Like the others before her. I do so hope that you will mind better than them.”

  “I told ye,” she said squinting up at him, “I am anything but biddable. Ye dinnae want me for a wife.” Ina hastily glanced around the ship. “Ooo, I am so dizzy,” she said, looking around. She saw no weapons. “Yer man hit me quite hard.”

  “Take it as a warning of what may happen if you do not do as you are told,” he sneered at her.

  “What are ye doing? What do ye think to gain by taking me?” Ina said as she struggled to stand. Her head did pain her, but it couldn’t hurt to act terribly injured and weak could it? Tristan was correct. She shouldn’t have provoked ire in this man!

  “I plan to marry you. With haste. The whole of the kingdom knows that King George wants you for a certain favorite of his. I know who that favorite is and I do not want to tangle with that formidable man. So I shall marry you and it will be too late for anything to be done about it then!”

  “But willnae the King be angry with ye? Tis a gallus, mauchit thing ye are doing,” she said as she took a step backwards as if she was dizzy and unsteady. She gripped the railing of the ship.

  “Nonsense, it isn’t cheeky or evil. Yes, I know the old Scott’s words. You will speak correctly to me! The King cannot be angry with me, I doubt anyone up here in the Highlands knows of the King’s plans yet. I shall simply feign ignorance.”

  Ina had her head down, one hand on her temple as if her head hurt, but she was shielding her eyes. She wanted to say that his favorite, Lord Cruim Hay, was already at Fionnaghal with the King's letter to marry in his hand, but she was too busy looking around for something, anything, to use as a weapon.