Highlander's Magic

by Joanne Wadsworth

  A mile in, they came across John’s birlinn anchored in the shallows with two guards remaining onboard. Archie ordered the sail down and his men rowed until they made berth beside the other vessel.

  She grabbed her clothes and followed him to the bow where his men bounded into the water. He too jumped. No wonder these men were so conditioned to the cold water since they were always in it. She firmed her resolve, scooted over the side.

  Archie caught before she hit the surface. “Only one of us needs to get wet, my sweet.” He juggled her higher against his chest and waded in.

  “Well, I’m glad it’s you. I’m sick of water squidging about in my boots. So, what’s the plan? A nice long romp across land? I can’t believe how much exercise I’ve had lately. People pay big-time for such things at their local gym back home.”

  “Nay, there shall be no romping for you.”

  “But we agreed we’d stay together.”

  “We shall, though once I’m assured of John’s position and that I’m no’ leading you into any danger.” He deposited her gently on the sand. From the stockpile of weapons his men had laid out, he grabbed a wrist sheath and dagger. “Come with me.”

  “Captain, we need to have words.” She was back to square one. With him, but not with him. Argh, how frustrating.

  “Words arenae needed. That was an order, one you must obey.” He tugged her over the sandy dunes then checked the area. “You’re out of view. Change now while I keep an eye out.”

  “I need to speak to you about MacLean. I thought I’d have more time.” She tossed the cloak, unlaced her gown and slid it down her body and off. The wind held such a bite, and as quick as she could, she yanked on the breeches and belted them. The tunic was too large, but she pulled it on then rolled the cuffs. “I’ve told you my magic comes in the form of knowledge. I don’t want you to kill MacLean, just capture him. No killing. You got that, right?”

  “You’ve a strange way of speaking, as if you’re ordering me about. Nay, the only way to win this war is by MacLean’s death.” With his lips pinched together in a tight line, he nabbed her cloak, slung it over her shoulders then secured it. “Your life isnae tied to his. You’re living here. Now. In this time. You cannae tell me otherwise.”

  “Archie.” The man wouldn’t listen. “I’ve not lied to you. I’m from the future. You have to consider my request.”

  “And I’ve told you ’tis impossible.” He lifted her arm and slid the sheath he’d chosen around her wrist. After slotting the dagger in place, he muttered, “Keep this on. You must remain armed at all times.”

  “It won’t matter how well armed I am. The only danger I’m in right now is from you.” She caught his face between her hands and kissed him, one breathtakingly deep kiss he better not forget as he walked into battle. “Think about what I’ve said, and come back to me. No more scratches, and no killing.”

  His gaze darkened. “His death is imminent.”

  “Then so is mine.” She snatched her gown from the ground and strode back over the dunes to the others. She certainly had her work cut out for her. It was no wonder the fae had sent her since any other woman probably would have gone insane by now.

  “Eric,” Archie snapped, hot on her heels. “You’re to stay with Marie. Guard her well.”

  “Aye, Captain.” The red-bearded warrior nodded then walked toward her.

  She stood still as Eric stopped at her side. Archie was leaving, without even another backward glance. He marched to the front of his guard and signaled for them to head out.

  They marched in a solid line until they became a mere dot in the distance. Gone. She jiggled from foot to foot, beyond anxious. They should have remained together. Well, she’d remedy that and insert her own orders.

  “Come on.” Eric gripped her elbow. “There’s nay need to worry. We have a stronger, larger force than MacLean, and we know our own land better than he ever could.”

  “MacLean is sneaky.”

  “The captain’s aware. Send him your faerie magic. ’Twill never go amiss.”

  If only she could wield true magic instead of her wits to sort this mess and get back to her sister. Mum had died before her time, but she and Katherine wouldn’t. She was an independent woman, and she didn’t need to rely on a man like Archie thought she did. She wouldn’t let him kill MacLean.

  Sure, she detested MacLean as well, and she certainly didn’t care for her ancestor or his tyrannical ways, but she needed him to atone for his behavior as he should before the king, and for that, his capture was necessary. There was no other way.

  Two men remained onboard John’s birlinn. “Are we boarding Archie’s birlinn or staying here on the beach?”

  “Whichever you wish.”

  “The beach please.” She had to come up with a plan to sway Archie. He’d be mad if she followed him, but too bad. He’d left her no choice.

  “Ah, Eric, I could really use a moment of privacy.” She shoved her knees together and squished up her face, mimicking Katherine needing to use the convenience at her best. “I fear it’s urgent.”

  His face reddened. “The captain said to guard you well. You cannae leave my sight.”

  “I don’t believe he meant that well. I’ll be on the other side of the dunes, not far away at all. Please. I’ve really got to go.”

  “A few minutes. Nay more.” He shook his head as if detesting his agreement.

  “Thanks.” A few minutes would have to be enough. She tossed him her rolled dress and scurried away.

  If she played this right, she could keep hidden behind the barrier of sand dunes for some distance. It would give her a good head start for sure, and right now, every minute counted.

  Once out of his sight, she ran, the chilly wind streaming through her hair and flapping her cloak behind her like a cape.

  MacLean wanted it all when he already had so much. Half of Jura, the Isles of Mull and Coll. Now he wanted Islay, or at least the west. Archie would never let him have an inch of this land. He would fight to keep it in Angus MacDonald’s hands.

  Only the king could settle this whole war. MacLean had received a summons and should have traveled to Edinburgh. These Highlanders were too damn stubborn for their own good.

  She veered to the left and used the edge of the rushes to aid her in picking up speed. This was such a wild land, yet so—

  A man rose out of the thick grasses and nabbed her around the waist. She lost her balance and careened head over foot, the man forced to fly with her. They landed, his gritty hand clamped over her mouth.

  Fighting for a breath, she stared into the dark blue depths of Lachlan MacLean’s eyes. Oh great. How on earth had he gotten here without detection? The man was a snake.

  “You appear surprised to see me, Marie.” His gaze drilled into her. “’Twas a shame MacDonald left so soon. At least I’m no’ leaving empty handed though, no’ now I have you.” She tried to pry his fingers loose, but he tut-tutted. “I want this land on the west, and I wouldnae mind a touch of your faerie magic. How willing are you to join with your true kin? Give me your answer, but dinnae draw attention to us, or it shall be at the consequence of your death.”

  She nodded, and he lifted one finger. Mumbling, she answered, “Your death is the last thing I want.”

  “That’s a good start.” He removed another finger. “I’m a fair chief to my own clan.”

  History had stated he’d commanded the respect of his people. Historians paid tribute to his memory in the works she’d read, so he had to have some redeeming qualities. Perhaps she’d yet to witness them, not that she had a lot of choice. He held the cards.

  “Give me your answer afore your guard comes searching for you.”

  “I’m willing. If you wish my magic, you shall have it.”

  Slowly he released her, heaved himself to his feet then offered her a hand. “We leave, now.”

  Three heavily armed warriors rose from their hidden spot within the dense rushes.

  “Where are we g
oing?”

  “My men await at camp in the forest. We’ll run.” He gripped her hand tighter and they raced across the moors. Archie would be furious she’d left Eric, and his rage would know no bounds once he discovered she’d willingly gone with MacLean, well, willingly enough.

  “Please forgive me, Archie,” she whispered under her breath. “I can be a little impulsive at times.”

  Chapter 9

  “I left you guarding Marie. What the hell are you doing here, Eric? And where is my woman?” Night had fallen and Archie scowled at his man within the small clearing where John and his men waited.

  Eric scrubbed a hand over his face. “She’s gone. No’ long after you left she asked for privacy. I gave her a mite of time then went in search of her.”

  “Was she taken?” He wanted to grab Eric and shake him until his teeth rattled. How had he allowed her to leave his sight?

  “Aye, but first she ran for some distance following your path. There were clear signs of a scuffle in the sand, then her tracks and those of several others led north.”

  “Are you saying MacLean has her?”

  “Aye.”

  He stormed back and forth across the clearing, furious he’d once again let Marie down and allowed the enemy to take her. Still, she was strong, and she would know he’d come for her. Damn it. She must have been worried to have tried to follow him. He should’ve listened to her instead of brushing off her concerns. She wasn’t from the future. Couldn’t be. Nay, she couldn’t be. But why was she so adamant she was? He stopped before Eric. “How far did you track her?”

  “As close to MacLean’s camp as I could. ’Tis three miles, mayhap a touch more. He holds a position high on a thickly concealed rise.”

  John cleared his throat from where he leaned against a wide tree trunk. “We discovered his camp this afternoon but were awaiting your arrival.” He pushed off, crossed and seized his shoulder. “’Tis time to attack, brother. Our force is now complete.”

  “I willnae have Marie caught in the middle of this battle.” It would kill him to see her harmed.

  “We’re out of options.”

  “I forced her to make this decision. She was captured because I didnae take enough care.”

  “You wish a rescue first?” John cocked a brow. “That will be near impossible now MacLean’s joined with the rest of his men.”

  He needed to slit his own throat for allowing Marie to be captured again.

  Grasping his brother in a firm forearm hold, he muttered, “Per mare per terras, by sea and by land. We fight.”

  “Go first if you wish and get as close to your woman as you can.” John returned his hold, his grip firm. “I’ll gather the rest of the men and be close behind. The time has come. We battle.”

  “Aye, MacLean will die this day, by my sword and no other’s. He’s taken what’s mine, and he’ll pay. Eric, lead the way.” With his claymore snug on his back and dirks sheathed at his wrists, he jogged through the darkened forest. His men followed, as silently as he through the dense brush.

  The cold of night had fully descended and fog clung to the undergrowth. An hour in, he lifted a hand and called a soundless halt. Smoke. The scent pervaded the air.

  “They’re above on the rise, Captain.” Eric gripped his knees, lugging in a breath from the fast pace they’d run.

  “Aye, and MacLean wishes our arrival. He draws us to him with fire.” He motioned to his men to huddle. Whispering, he warned, “Expect them to be prepared, very prepared. Fan out. We’re close.”

  MacLean’s guard would be out there. Although like phantoms in the night, his men slithered away, using the dark to their advantage. This was their land, and none knew it as they did.

  He’d honor his word to Marie and protect her. Or die trying.

  * * * *

  Marie’s heartbeat raced.

  MacLean ordered the fire be lit then commanded a band of his men to head deeper into the forest, to circle around and take positions where they could to watch for Archie’s warriors. Hands planted on his hips, MacLean smirked. “Are you content up there, lass?”

  She would be if he hadn’t tied her up the moment they’d arrived at camp. Bound and wedged within the high bow of a tree, she couldn’t move for fear of toppling to the hard ground beneath. MacLean had smugly insisted he’d done this for her own good. It was safest for her if she remained out of harm’s way. He’d even pocketed the dirk Archie had given her, and if she could spit out the foul-mouthed gag, she’d scream a warning. She’d never forgive herself if Archie got hurt. This was all her fault.

  She glared at MacLean then the fire below. Archie, don’t you dare come. Don’t you—

  A warrior burst into the clearing. “Chief, two bands of MacDonalds have arrived, one closely followed by the other.” He gulped in air. “Our men have moved in behind the second band.”

  “How far away are they?”

  “On the lower ridge.”

  So close. She was out of time. She shoved her roped hands hard to the trunk and sawed while MacLean kicked dirt over the fire and doused it. A bare sliver of moonlight trickled through the thick canopy above.

  MacLean withdrew his claymore and readied himself.

  * * * *

  On his belly, Archie slithered under a bush, taking the utmost care not to make a sound. Once through to the other side, he crouched. MacLean’s men were everywhere. He’d maneuvered up the rise and deep into the midst of them without being spotted. He had to reach MacLean, or at least get as close as he could before he called his men to arms. That arrogant bastard would pay for taking Marie.

  He held his position, scanned each direction. The moonlight filtered through, the acrid scent of smoke now gone. Slowly, carefully, he palmed his dirk, all his senses narrowed in on his left.

  A shadow moved. One of MacLean’s men. He caught the glint in his adversary’s eye. Archie flung his weapon then sprang and caught the warrior as he fell to the ground, his dirk embedded deep between the man’s eyes. An instant death. No noise. He dragged the fallen warrior to the closest scrub, pulled his dirk free then rolled the body underneath. MacLean wouldn’t rule Islay, not on his watch, nor while he drew breath.

  He slipped behind a thick trunk. Beyond, a clearing with a fire doused in the center, beckoned him.

  The wait was over, and his blood roared for revenge.

  * * * *

  Marie stopped sawing as the forest went eerily quiet. It was as if even the creatures had taken refuge. A shadow passed at the base of a tree near the one she was wedged within. Archie. Every cell in her body was so attuned to him. He was here.

  MacLean lifted his claymore high as he prepared to attack.

  Her heartbeat hammered out of control.

  “About time we meet again, MacLean.” Archie’s voice rumbled low and deadly through the clearing, sending her pulse spiking even higher. One man would walk away from this battle alive, and it had to be Archie.

  “I’m sorry, Katherine,” she whispered into her gag. If MacLean died, then so did she and her sister. She should’ve tried harder to get Archie to listen to her.

  “About time you got here, MacDonald. The Rhinns shall be mine afore this day is out. I’ve waited a long time for this moment.”

  “The Rhinns will never be yours.” Archie edged around the clearing, keeping to the darkest corners. “And I shall prove it afore this day is out.”

  She remained perfectly still, not wanting to divert Archie’s attention from the man who would take every advantage of it if she did.

  “The Rhinns were lost by my father, but I shall see this land returned to me.” Brow cocked, MacLean swung his sword as if readying himself. “How is my dear sister by the way?”

  “Her wellbeing is of no concern of yours, nor has it been for over a decade. Cease the conversation, MacLean. ’Tis time to fight.” Archie lifted his blade and let out a fierce battle cry. It rang in her ears then increased in crescendo as it boomed in every direction around her. His men were e
verywhere, but then so were MacLean’s.

  MacLean came at Archie. Their two great blades clashed dead center and sparked, and the brutal force of the strike sent Archie lurching back a step under the jarring impact. “There is naught I like more than an eager opponent,” MacLean snarled.

  “I’m the most eager adversary you’ll find.” Archie shoved against him. “Let’s end this. Now.” He struck MacLean, landing several hard blows. He fought to make ground.

  “My men surround us, MacDonald.” MacLean attacked aggressively to bring Archie into the play of moonlight, each of his hits stronger than the last. “Do you feel the itch in your back? A dirk will soon be embedded deep within it.”

  “Watch for it yourself.” Archie shot forward and landed a vicious blow on MacLean’s left.

  They fought, sweat pouring from their bodies. All around the sound of men grunting and fighting surged. She wanted to drown it all out as the cheers came from warriors who’d taken their opponent down. So many were dying. Clan MacLean or MacDonald?

  And Archie fought for his life, the urge to kill MacLean clearly spurring him on. He would die before he ever gave up this land.

  * * * *

  The urge to kill throbbed through Archie as battle lust rode him hard. Each time one of his men felled a MacLean, their battle cheer rang loud and hastened his attack. “Your men fall, MacLean, and in far greater numbers than mine.”

  “You get ahead of yourself, MacDonald, as you did in leaving your faerie behind at the loch. A bad move.” MacLean’s gaze glinted with determination. “A curious wee lass she is to wish herself into the middle of this battle. She’s so charming though, wouldnae you say?”

  “I’ll kill you if you’ve harmed her, and I’ll make it as painful as possible.”

  “If she survives, I intend to keep her for myself. What say you, Marie?” MacLean searched the trees. “Is this battle all you’d hoped for? You can answer once I’ve killed your warrior if you prefer.”

  Damn the man. If Marie was up there, he wouldn’t be able to aid her until he’d won this fight. He slammed his blade into MacLean’s side.