Highlander Unbroken (Highland Adventure Book 8)

by Vonda Sinclair

  Neacal eyed the two men poised to charge him at any moment, fury and murder in their eyes. "Neither of you want to die this day, do you, like the other three at the tavern?" he asked them. "You saw your brethren back there. They attacked me at once and none survived. There are only two of you. What chance do you have?"

  They hesitated, the gleam of dread and hatred in their eyes.

  "We have nay fear of a barbaric and heathen MacDonald!" the redhead shouted.

  "You want to see barbaric? I'll be glad to show you." He sent them a malicious grin.

  They both rushed him at once. He dodged aside, first striking one in the arm and the other in the abdomen. Dunn barked behind the men, drawing their attention and giving Neacal the opening he needed. By the time the redhead saw him coming, 'twas too late for him to raise his sword to block the blow. Neacal ran him through and, after he toppled to the ground yelling and thrashing, he focused on the dark-haired man.

  MacBraden put up a good fight but in the end he was no match. Neacal practiced with a sword for several hours per day and had great endurance. After a few minutes of swordplay, MacBraden tired and faltered, stumbling over a rock. Neacal's next blow struck him in the chest and he sprawled upon the ground.

  Neacal watched both men, but clearly they were not rising again.

  "Dunn, come!" Neacal yelled.

  MacBraden had said three dozen more were coming.

  Neacal was ready to fight every last one of them until he faced Anna's husband. If he was the rotten and abusive brute Neacal imagined him to be, he would rid the world of the bastard.

  Neacal glanced around. "Anna!" He headed toward where he thought she'd gone. Dunn trotted along in front of him. "Find her and the horse, lad."

  Moments later, the dog barked from behind the tall bushes up ahead. Neacal rushed forward to find Anna still in the saddle, her face wan.

  "What happened?" she asked. "Are you hurt?"

  "Nay. They're all dead. But the last one said three dozen more soldiers are coming." He leapt on behind her.

  "Saints," she hissed. "I'm sorry I dragged you into this."

  "Do not fash yourself over it. 'Tis time for us to head back to Bearach Castle." He turned the horse around, heading west, and urged it into a trot. Because a rugged mountain lay in their way, they had to retrace their steps to rejoin the trail leading north to Bearach. "Can you now tell me why you left the castle?" he asked.

  After a long moment, she nodded and turned to him. "I'd met the Hamilton chief before. I knew if he saw me, he would send a missive to the beast who claims to be my husband."

  "Claims to be?"

  Was it possible she wasn't actually married?

  Before he could find out what she'd meant, Dunn drew to an abrupt halt in front of them and growled. The hair on the dog's back stood on end. A faint sound reached Neacal's ears… a multitude of hoof beats. In the far distance, he saw a garrison on horseback. That had to be the three dozen, all of them on the trail they needed to take to reach Bearach.

  "Damnation, that's the rest of the garrison. Come, Dunn!" Neacal turned the horse about and raced toward the mountain again. 'Twas the one where he'd lived for a time, and he knew almost every stone on it.

  Though Anna sat in front of him, he had no time or attention for a discussion. He wrapped one arm around her to make sure she didn't lose her seat during this jarring ride. Sparing a glance back every few minutes, he was thankful he didn't see their pursuers again.

  Once they were several miles away and nearing the large mountain, he slowed the horse to a walk, then dismounted and let him drink at a stream. When he remembered that Anna had not yet broken her fast, he said, "You must be starving. I'm sorry I have no food."

  "Nay, I have an apple left. But I'm not hungry." She avoided his gaze.

  "You said he claims to be your husband. What does that mean?"

  Anna pressed a fist to her stomach. When her eyes finally met his, they were filled with anguish. "The truth is Ranald Blackburn murdered my husband, his cousin—John MacCromar—and then forced me to marry him by threatening to kill my sister." Anna's voice caught and tears sparkled in her eyes. "To prove he meant what he said, Blackburn cut Kristina's face, leaving a terrible scar. Then, he ordered one of his men to hold a knife to her throat during the ceremony. Afterward, Blackburn shoved her down, causing her to hit her head and go blind. She still cannot see. You wished to ken the truth. There it is."

  Neacal was near speechless, imagining what the two women had suffered through. "The bastard," he rasped. Outrage surged through him, tensing his muscles. He wanted to hunt the beast down now. Was he with the garrison following them or had he simply sent his men? He hoped he was leading them. Neacal had an arrow destined for the whoreson.

  "He paid the priest who performed the ceremony a generous sum for his silence. Besides, 'tis his distant cousin."

  "The marriage is not legal," Neacal growled.

  "Depends on who you ask." She wiped the angry tears from her eyes. "The officials in our town would not go against him. I had no way to fight him, no funds and no one on my side, so I escaped and disappeared."

  "Where is your sister?"

  "I secreted her away to live with my aunt. I pray she is still in hiding there, and safe. I wanted to bring her with me but she wasn't able to travel."

  "How long have you been on the run?" Neacal asked.

  "Almost two years."

  "I vow I'll protect you from the swine. You said his name is Blackburn?"

  "Aye, he's the bastard cousin of my first husband. His name is Ranald Blackburn, but when he took over as chief, he told everyone to call him Blackburn MacCromar. His father was my husband's uncle, also a MacCromar."

  "I see." Neacal wanted to ask more about her first husband, but now was not the time. He had to take her to a hidden and protected area further up the mountain.

  ***

  Anna perched in the saddle as Neacal led the horse toward a small thatched stone cottage nestled in a high grassy meadow between two mountains. They had traveled this way for more than two hours, up the steep and rugged mountain and along a treacherous trail.

  Although she was aware of their surroundings, most of her attention focused on Neacal. His long dark hair lay upon his broad shoulders. He turned his head, listening for those who might be following. His pale blue eyes were hawk-sharp and alert. Cunning. The jagged scar down the side of his angular face was like a warrior mask.

  Heavens! She did not deserve his protection. He was far too good for her. Too selfless. How could she ever repay him? Even after knowing she had a so-called husband, Neacal didn't give up on her. He'd refused to turn her over to the MacCromar henchmen.

  Neacal was a treasure and 'twould be her fondest wish to say aye to his proposal of marriage. If it could be so, she would cherish Neacal all the days of her life.

  "This is a shieling the crofters use in summer while their cattle and sheep are grazing high on these mountains. The rest of the year 'tis empty. I stayed here for a while last fall and winter," he said. "'Tis warmer here than on the island, and the red stag and rabbits are plentiful."

  No doubt he also liked the isolation of this location. She turned and gazed back at the view between the mountains all the way to the sea in the distance. Although dark gray clouds rolled in from the west, obscuring the setting sun, it was a lovely view. "'Tis beautiful up here."

  "Aye." He lifted her down from the horse, focusing his arrow-sharp gaze upon her. "I want you to tell me everything."

  She cocked her head and lifted a brow. "If you will tell me everything." There was plenty she didn't know about him, and she was keen to learn every detail.

  "We'll see." He released her and headed toward the entrance to the shieling. The door was shorter than he was, forcing him to bend in order to enter. She followed him inside and found he could stand to his full height within because of the pointed thatched roof.

  The bare stone walls were thick and tightly dry-stacked. The beige that
ch had been replaced recently.

  A fire pit with a large, black hanging pot occupied the center of the slate floor.

  "I helped the shepherds bring the slate up here and put it in place. They bragged 'twas a manor house after that." His lips quirked as he glanced up at the ceiling. "They re-thatched it in May."

  "A very cozy and well-kept shieling," she said softly, wishing impulsively this could be her new home… with Neacal, of course. She'd spent most of her life in castles, but living in a wee cottage such as this wouldn't be so bad, as long as they had everything they needed.

  "They thought I might stay here again this fall and winter," he said.

  "Were you planning to?"

  "'Haps. If my brother hadn't been killed."

  "And now—blast it all—you have to be chief."

  His gaze flew to her and she smiled. Amusement crept into his eyes, but his lips had hardly moved. His intense gaze lingered upon her for long seconds, caressing her soul. She could scarce breathe, hoping he would kiss her.

  Abruptly he turned away. "I'll go back down the mountain and cover our tracks. Hopefully divert them, if they should have a tracker. Clouds are drifting in. 'Twill most likely rain this eve. I'll hide amongst the rocks of the crag above the trail and pick them off one by one if they take the trail through the pass as we did."

  Alarm raced through Anna. "In truth? That will be dangerous."

  He shrugged. "But easy. They're unfamiliar with this area. I've been all over these mountains many times."

  "But you're only one man against dozens."

  "That matters not. I'm also supposed to be dead now, or an invalid. I'll leave Dunn with you. He's a skilled guard dog. I've taught him well to alert me to any prowlers. He's also a good fighter."

  As he started out the door, she grabbed his hand. Instantly, he paused.

  "Please, promise me you'll be careful." She could not even look him in the eye when she said it. Where would she be without him? Captured and on her way back to Blackburn. Beaten, battered and raped. She could not survive now without Neacal.

  With his hand, he tilted her face, forcing her to look at him. And she did, with pleasure. But when she gazed into his fierce blue eyes, she felt as if tethering hooks shot into her heart and dragged it out toward him. Saints, how she was falling for this man.

  "Don't worry over me, sweet Anna." He kissed her forehead, turned and left the cottage.

  Oh good Lord. Tears sprang to her eyes and she discovered her knees were weak. She propped against the wall and watched him stride toward where the dog sat near the horse. He gave Dunn a command and pointed at the cottage. The dog ran toward her, joining her inside. She stroked his bristly fur.

  Neacal took his bow and arrows from the saddle, then led the horse into the byre, several yards distant. As he bypassed the shieling door, he paused. "I'll try to find some sort of game for a stew. Bar the door. I'll be back soon."

  Anna's throat was so tight, she couldn't utter a word. She simply nodded and watched him walk away.

  She swallowed hard and closed her eyes. Dear God, protect him.

  Dunn whined and moved about restlessly. She closed the door and barred it, as Neacal had instructed. She prayed he would return soon, but what on earth would she do if he didn't?

  ***

  On foot, Neacal followed the rocky trail down the side of the mountain. It was wide enough for a horse to walk comfortably, but one false move and a person or animal would tumble several hundred feet to their death in the stream below.

  He searched for stray tracks they'd left before, but found few. The grass and heather grew thick in the dirt. When he found tracks that he, his horse or Dunn had made, he smoothed them out with a slick stone. He also had to be sure to hide any stray broken stems. He saw a few deer tracks, and hopefully any disturbed dirt or foliage would be attributed to them.

  At the base of the mountain, Neacal startled two young red stags. He was not surprised to see them for 'twas time for the autumn rut in the glens. The deer bolted, charging east across the moor.

  As he was scanning the ground for the tracks he wished to erase, the sound of hoof beats reached his ears. Was it a herd of deer or the garrison? Taking out his sword, he slipped behind a thick stand of prickly gorse bushes and crouched.

  The thundering grew louder and he quickly realized 'twas indeed several horses.

  "Whoa!" The front rider held up his arm, drew to a halt and dropped to the ground. He scanned the muddy area. Neacal had not had time to blot out all of his party's tracks. He prayed the men couldn't tell which direction they'd gone.

  Peeking through the branches, he counted fifteen men. Where had the other half of the garrison gone? They must have split up to search. Regardless, he was greatly outnumbered. His heart thumped loudly in his ears for he could be discovered at any moment.

  Chapter Ten

  Neacal peered out from between the bushes at Ranald Blackburn MacCromar's soldiers. Aye, they wore the same type of clothing and tartan as the men Neacal had fought with and killed earlier. Outnumbered as he was, fifteen to one, he'd best make sure he was not discovered. He might defeat three men at once, but fifteen made him far less confident when it came to hand-to-hand combat. If he were perched above them with his bow and arrows, however, he could pick them off one by one.

  Were any of these men the one who claimed to be Anna's husband, or was he so wealthy he could simply send a garrison in his stead?

  "You see there?" One of the men pointed at the ground. "A large dog track. They came through here."

  The man who'd ridden in front, obviously their tracker, strode onto the moor. He crouched and examined the trampled grass. "They went this way!" He mounted again and the lot of them rode away, toward the east and across the moor, following what had to be the trodden grass trail the two stags had left behind.

  Thank the saints!

  After the sounds of hoof-beats vanished, Neacal emerged from the concealed spot, glanced around and listened. He heard naught but the screech of a hawk in the distance.

  He checked for any stray tracks that led toward the mountain. Seeing none, he headed for the trail that led up to the cliffs from the back. The climb was steep and rocky and required the use of his hands at some spots, to drag himself up. After a hard pull, a pain shot through his shoulder and arm. Damnation, 'twas the old injury from when he'd been captured. He ground his teeth and, taking a deep breath of the cool, damp air, forced himself to ignore the pain.

  At the top of the cliff, he looked east over the moor, but saw no people in the declining evening light. The wind picked up, shifting the bushes about. The leaden clouds drifted low, bringing an early gloaming. The rain would start soon, and if it was hard enough, it would wash away any remaining trace of their passage through the area and drive their pursuers indoors.

  He watched for returning soldiers for a quarter hour. From the corner of his eye, he glimpsed movement two hundred feet below… a large rabbit. If Dunn were here, he would catch it in less than a minute, but Neacal would use his bow. Because he'd brought only two dozen arrows for defense, he would have to be frugal with them and reuse them whenever possible. Slowly, he moved closer and maneuvered into position for a good shot.

  After he slew the first rabbit, he noticed another a short distance away. Both kills were quick and easy. He, Anna, and Dunn would eat a good supper this eve.

  He remembered Anna's anxious expression when he'd left her. He hoped she wasn't afraid, being in the shieling with only Dunn for protection. He couldn't imagine her too terrified since she'd struck out alone from the castle. She was obviously a brave lady… one that he admired greatly.

  When the first tiny drops of rain hissed through the air, he glanced at the darkening sky. The clouds overhead grew thicker and more ominous. With each moment that passed, the cold rain fell harder, drenching his hair and clothing. It didn't bother him overmuch. He was used to being outdoors in the elements. After scanning the moor one last time and seeing no one, he made
his way to the trail again. Careful to step on stones as often as possible, and not leave tracks in the mud, he strode up the mountain at a brisk pace.

  Sometime later, he entered the clearing, the bitter but homey scent of peat smoke surprising him. Lady Anna had built a fire. Fortunately, the rain and heavy clouds would prevent the scent of the smoke from traveling far.

  He knocked at the shieling door. "'Tis me. Neacal," he called out.

  Dunn woofed excitedly while Anna opened the door. He relished her welcoming smile, feeling more at home here than he ever had at Bearach Castle. Jumping about playfully, Dunn greeted him with a wildly wagging tail. Neacal rubbed his shaggy head.

  "Thank the saints, you're back," Anna whispered, widening the door for him to enter. "But you're drenched!"

  "Aye." As he'd guessed, a low blaze burned in the fire-pit, lighting the room to a cozy glow, the heat from it feeling good on his cold, damp skin. Steam arose from the large black pot hanging over the flame. The cooking vegetables and herbs scented the air along with the smoke.

  "You built a fire?" he asked.

  She closed the door. "Nay, Dunn did it," she blurted with a straight face. Then, a wee impish grin peeked out. Of course, his question was ridiculous, and she wasn't shy about letting him know that. He shook his head, unable to squelch the faint smile.

  "Dunn also dug the parsnips, turnips and onions, then cut them up," Anna went on, a sparkle of mischief in her eyes.

  Neacal snorted. "I didn't realize he was so skilled with a knife and flint. I thank you both." Smiling felt foreign to him. He'd forgotten his mouth could move in such a way, but it felt good. And for some reason, it made him want to kiss her. But, nay, he couldn't do that. "I wanted you to lock the door and stay inside."

  "I know, but I couldn't. I was too anxious. I had to keep busy. When you didn't return before the rain started, I worried you'd run into trouble."