Highlander Unbroken (Highland Adventure Book 8)

by Vonda Sinclair

  Six… seven men down.

  The remaining knaves—only five or six in his estimation—screamed and ran for cover. Someone shouted an order and a flaming arrow shot in his general direction. It landed several yards from him among the rocks. He moved further away into the darkness, then peered around a large boulder. Their archer shot more arrows toward the place he had been. He would collect those arrows to use when he could. In the meantime, he waited off to the left and could easily see two of them crouched behind a rock. He took aim and sent an arrow sailing toward the closest one. He cried out and tried to crawl away.

  "Coward!" one of the enemies yelled. "Come out and show yourself!"

  Neacal gave a smirking grin. In his estimation, a coward was one who set a cottage on fire in order to flush out the occupants to capture or kill them. Where was the honor in that? But there was much honor, cunning and skill in the Highland way of fighting. The whoresons were free to come and hunt him down if they were brave enough.

  "Go find the bastard!" their commander yelled.

  "Aye, find me if you dare," Neacal whispered. This was what he'd been training himself for during the past year, though he hadn't even known it.

  Three men fanned out and raced into the rocks and bushes where he had been hiding earlier. Catching sight of one, he shot an arrow, but it ricocheted off a rock.

  Damnation, his only miss.

  "He's over there!" one of the searchers yelled, pointing in his direction.

  He hastened up the mountain, hoping to draw them further away from Anna.

  They made a substantial amount of noise as they clambered up the stony hillside, rocks tumbling, their swords clanging against them from time to time.

  Neacal paused and waited for the men. Squinting in the predawn light, he could make out their movements below. His survival and Anna's depended on him taking out every last one. If they were to catch him, they didn't plan on letting him live. And if they captured Anna, Blackburn would surely beat and abuse her… and eventually kill her. Neacal refused to let that happen.

  He took aim at one of the men and released an arrow. A shout echoed down the glen.

  His comrades yelled out and took cover.

  "We have to get the hell out of here!" one of them bellowed. "Before we're all dead."

  One man against a garrison of around fifteen. Not bad.

  Did they think they deserved his mercy after they'd tried to burn him and Anna alive?

  "Come on, you cowards!" Neacal yelled, itching for a fight. "Come get me if you think you have the stones for it!" he taunted.

  Rocks clattered below and in the dawn glimmer, he picked up the movements of the two remaining men. At first, he thought they'd accepted his challenge, but then, he saw they were retreating… running back toward the burning cottage and their waiting commander. Once in the clearing, they sped up and raced past their shouting superior. Maybe he wouldn't run. Neacal slipped down the hillside, watchful for any movements to the side. He wanted to make sure none of the enemies were lurking about.

  Stopping behind a boulder, Neacal nocked an arrow and drew aim at the enemy, not fifty feet away. The man turned, his gaze landing on Neacal. The commander leapt behind a large rock, pointed a pistol and fired.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Anna sat on the stone behind the outcropping after Neacal left. 'Twas so hard to remain still. She wanted to go charging after him and help him in any way she could. Or just make certain he was all right. But he'd ordered her to stay seated here. She couldn't even pace. Visibility was poor and she might trip on the rocks or make noise. Her legs were twitchy with restlessness.

  "Hurry, Neacal," she whispered.

  Dunn panted behind her so she wasn't completely alone. She was thankful for the giant dog's company.

  She prayed for Neacal's safety for what seemed like hours in the darkness. Dunn whined softly from time to time. Obviously, he was worried about his master. "Shh." She stroked the dog's coarse fur. "He will return soon," she whispered. "Please, God, let it be so."

  'Twas all her fault. She should've never involved Neacal. But she hadn't exactly forced him into this. He'd wanted to escort her to the village, and then he'd fought off her attackers. Aye, indeed, she was to blame. Now, she knew she should've never left the castle, but she had thought the risk of discovery was greater there. She couldn't have imagined all this would happen.

  Heavens, what was she going to do? What if Blackburn's garrison killed Neacal? How could he possibly fight that many men and win?

  Dear God, please keep him safe.

  She wiped her tears away with the back of her hand.

  A pistol shot echoed between the mountains.

  Her heart leapt into her throat and her breath halted. "Neacal?" she whispered and jumped to her feet. Had he been shot? She well knew he'd had a bow and arrows, but no pistol. 'Twas enemy fire.

  Praying that Neacal was uninjured, she crawled through the rocks and bushes toward the edge of the outcropping to determine whether she could see anyone, while staying out of sight.

  Meager dawn light filtered in through the gorse bushes and bracken fronds. Should she go search for him? What if he needed her help?

  On the other hand, if he was well and she walked into danger, she could put him at risk. Just because a pistol had fired did not mean he'd been hit… but she needed to be sure.

  She slipped further from the hiding place and peered through the ferns but could see naught. Nor could she hear anything more.

  Dunn crept forward too, nudging underneath her arm.

  "Stay, Dunn," she whispered, then grasped hold of his collar, lest he take off at a lope. Not that she could hold him if he chose to disobey her. Neacal would never forgive her if she let his best friend charge into danger. Nor would she forgive herself.

  She smelled the smoke of the burning cottage. She and Neacal could've easily died there. A chill slid through her.

  Pushing herself up slightly, she looked over the thick growth of bracken on the hillside. She saw no movement. Except for the occasional bird, all was silent.

  "Where is Neacal?" she breathed.

  Dunn sat beside her, sniffing the air. He gave a soft woof.

  "Shh. Quiet."

  The dog eyed her, then remained silent. He was such a good lad. She waited, clasping his leather collar, until she thought she would go mad in the extended silence. Her eyes scanning the dark hillsides in the dawn light, she saw nothing. What if Neacal needed her help? What if he'd been shot? She could wait no longer. She had to go find out.

  Hanging onto the dog's collar, she tried to lead him. Instead, he led her up the hillside and behind more bushes. "Wait," she gasped, trying to keep up. "Stay, Dunn," she whispered once he stopped.

  He glanced at her and whimpered, then peered through the bushes and gave several loud sniffs. He turned back quickly and licked her cheek before she could duck out of his way. Then he leapt up and started pushing through the prickly gorse bushes.

  "Dunn," she muttered quietly through clenched teeth and tugged at his collar. "Stop. Halt. Stay," she said firmly. But he did not listen to any of the commands. He yanked her into the prickly gorse bushes. When the wicked thorns stabbed into her hand, the shock of pain forced her to release her grip on him.

  Blasted dog! "Dunn, come back," she said in a loud whisper. She dared not yell at him, for one of the clan would be sure to hear her.

  "Oh, saints preserve me," she breathed, trying to follow as best she could but, nay, she would have to take a different route unless she wanted to crawl on her belly like the dog and get half her hair yanked out by the spiny bushes, her skin scratched and her clothes ripped. Neacal was going to be furious; she'd allowed his dog to run into danger.

  After circling back, she found a more open route behind the bushes. Crouching low, she rushed forward, then peered at the landscape below. Smoke rose from somewhere in the distance. After proceeding further, she finally saw the bare stone walls of the burned out shieling. The roof was
gone. A pang of loss struck her. She and Neacal had spent a wonderful night there. Gone forever. And then she saw what appeared to be bodies lying in the grass near the shieling. Were they injured or dead? Icy fear sliced through her. Was one of them Neacal?

  If he was dead, what would she do? How could she go on?

  Nay! She refused to believe it.

  In the distance, a brown animal moved up a different hillside. Dunn. How did he get so far so fast? And what if one of the MacCromars saw him?

  Crouched behind a bush, she watched but saw no men moving. Just Dunn, his nose to the ground. Please, God, let him find Neacal alive and unharmed.

  If he didn't, she would have to go into the clearing and see if one of the fallen men was Neacal.

  ***

  Neacal reached the rocky outcropping where he'd left Anna and Dunn but they were gone. A feeling like ice water trickled through him. Enough dawn light now flooded the area for him to see clearly. She was not sitting on the stone where he'd left her.

  "Anna?" he called in a normal tone of voice, then a bit louder, wondering if she was further up behind the bracken.

  Naught but silence surrounded him. Where were they?

  He ran up the hill and climbed a tall rock. From here, he could see all around the small hidden area. Neither Anna nor Dunn was anywhere in sight. He leapt down and hurried to the crest of the ridge. He ran his gaze over the green hills mixed with rocky ledges. Glancing at the ground, he saw that the plants were trampled to the right. Since he hadn't gone that way, Anna and Dunn must have. He tracked them behind the gorse bushes and along the hillside.

  He was glad to have defeated Blackburn's garrison and sent the remaining ones scurrying. Right after shooting at Neacal, the commander had vanished, leaving the dead lying strewn about the clearing around the burned out cottage. Likely, Blackburn himself would show up next time, bringing more men. They would take the bodies for burial, and reclaim their horses. Then, they would attempt to track down Neacal. He had to get Anna back to the safety of the castle before that happened.

  Anyone who came upon the dead here would see what had happened—that they'd burned the cottage and someone had retaliated against them. They'd come here asking for a battle and they'd gotten one.

  Pausing, Neacal heard naught but a horse nickering. Two lingered at the bottom of the clearing, picking grass, along with his horse. Fortunately, Swain had remained safely in the byre during the fighting, then Neacal had let him out and saddled him in preparation for their departure.

  Glancing around, he saw Dunn on the opposite hillside, nose to the ground, sniffing along the path Neacal had taken earlier. Damnation! The dog was supposed to have stayed with Anna and guarded her.

  Neacal hastened further along and found Anna crouched ahead, watching the dog in the distance.

  "Thank the saints," he whispered. Relief flowing through him, he crossed himself.

  She gasped and jerked around. Seeing it was him, she pressed a hand to her chest. When he moved toward her, she arose and launched herself into his arms.

  "Thank God you were not shot," she said.

  "The lead ball grazed my shoulder but 'tis only a scratch."

  "Let me see." She examined his torn shirt and peered through the hole. The streak of torn flesh had already stopped bleeding. "You may need stitches."

  "Nonsense. Come, we must hie back to Bearach." He gave a loud whistle through his fingers.

  "What if the men hear you?" Anna warned in a whisper.

  "The remaining ones ran like wee hares. Gone back for reinforcements, I'm certain. Which is why I must get you behind the castle walls forthwith."

  Dunn loped toward him. Excited, the dog leapt up and placed his front paws on Neacal, then licked his face.

  Neacal ruffled his fur. "Aye, lad. I'm well. Come now." He placed Anna's hand around his elbow and helped her down the hillside toward his horse.

  Anna was so thankful Neacal had been unharmed by the lead ball. She held onto his arm, appreciating his strength, kindness and generosity.

  When she again saw the treacherous trail down the mountain, she decided to walk while Neacal led the horse. He insisted she stay close in front of him so he could better protect her if any enemies should be lurking about. Dunn trotted out ahead, stopping often to look back and wait for them.

  They walked for the better part of two hours. The sun rose higher, blocked now and then by the slow, white clouds floating across the sky. Though the air was cool, the wind was calm.

  Anna didn't consider herself a weakling at all, but Neacal and Dunn didn't look the least bit tired. Her feet were starting to ache from the rocks that jabbed up into the soles of her leather slippers. Although she was used to walking miles on level ground, she was not accustomed to descending mountains and her knees were about to give out. She stumbled and if not for Neacal catching her, she would've fallen to the ground. Thankfully, they were moving away from the more perilous areas of steep, plunging slopes. Still, it was far from flat.

  Stopping, Neacal swung her up into his arms, surprising her. "Why didn't you tell me you were tired?" he asked.

  With the physical contact, awareness sizzled over her. "I am well. Do not fash."

  He cradled her in his arms and she leaned against him, relishing being able to relax into his strength for a moment. "You need food but we have none at the moment," he said.

  "Nay, I'm not hungry," she lied, for she didn't want him worrying about her so much. Besides, she had gone longer before without food. After they reached the castle, she would eat her fill.

  "We're almost to the base of the mountain. Once there, we'll ride."

  She nodded, hearing water splashing nearby. "I'll drink some water, then rest for a moment and I'll be fine."

  He carried her to the narrow stream and set her onto her feet near a small waterfall.

  "How beautiful," she said.

  Dunn was already splashing through the water, downstream, and drinking.

  Since her legs were too weak to crouch as Neacal did, and her skirts were already grimy from crawling through the tunnel, she knelt in the mud, washed her hands, then scooped clean water into her hand and drank it.

  The water was icy and refreshing. Just what she needed. When she attempted to rise to her full height again, she tottered on weak legs and almost tumbled into the stream. Neacal caught her arm and pulled her against his hard chest.

  "Careful, lass," he murmured then stroked a cool, damp hand along her cheek and jaw. He leaned down and pressed his lips to hers. His tongue was hot as it teased at her lips. She sank into this sensual dream. How could he so easily distract her from the danger at hand?

  Dunn barked, startling Anna. She jumped away from Neacal and turned to find a sandy-haired stranger behind them.

  "This is where you are, then!" The man grinned.

  Shock and anxiety pounded through her.

  "Colin! About time you showed up," Neacal said, smiling. He strode forward and gave the man a warrior handshake. "'Tis good to see you again."

  A bit of relief flowed through Anna.

  "Good to see you, too. It took me several days, but I finally managed to round up just over two dozen soldiers for you to add to your garrison. My men and I will stay a while and help, too."

  "I thank you. Where are they?"

  "Just beyond the trees." Colin motioned over his shoulder. "When we spotted you in the distance, I decided to slip up and see who was with you." He grinned at Anna.

  Neacal turned to her. "Mistress Douglas, this is my friend and foster brother, Colin Cameron."

  She forced herself to walk forward.

  "A pleasure to meet you, mistress." The tall, handsome man took her hand and kissed the back.

  "A pleasure, sir." Her face burning, Anna glanced to Neacal. She was still mortified that his friend had caught them kissing.

  "How did you find us?" Neacal asked.

  "'Twas not easy. We went to the castle first and learned you'd disappeared, so we came looki
ng. Some of your clansmen are out searching for you elsewhere, too. What happened there?" Colin pointed at Neacal's sleeve where a bit of blood had stained it.

  "A lead ball grazed my shoulder."

  Colin frowned. "Who was shooting at you?"

  "Mistress Douglas was attacked. 'Tis a long story. I'll tell you later. We need to get her back to Bearach as soon as possible. The ruffians will come back, certain sure."

  Neacal lifted Anna to the pillion cushion behind his saddle, then mounted. He tugged her arms around his waist and they were off.

  ***

  "I'm glad you're looking far more recovered than I expected," Colin said to Neacal when they stopped to water their horses an hour later. Eating the apple Colin had given her, Anna sat on a large rock a short distance away where Neacal could keep an eye on her.

  It had been more than a year since he'd seen Colin. Neacal had not been able to do much more than walk at the time, and he'd been near skin and bones.

  "I refused to give up."

  Colin nodded. "I'm glad. You're a strong man, my friend. I'd heard you were the new chief and that your clan suffered a great loss at the hands of the MacKenzies."

  "Aye. I was away at the time." If he'd been at Bearach maybe he could've talked some sense into his older brother and prevented so much loss of life.

  "I was making ready to visit you when your messengers showed up," Colin said.

  "I appreciate that."

  "Shall we gather forces and retaliate against the MacKenzies?" Colin asked.

  "Nay. 'Tis all settled now and we have an alliance with the MacKenzies. Maili chose to marry the younger brother of the chief."

  "Ah." Colin quirked a brow. "Is that a good thing?"

  "Aye. You see, Elrick captured a MacKenzie man, beat him and held him for ransom. That was the cause of the conflict."

  "And Elrick was killed in the siege?"

  "Aye. He had no cause to hold the man hostage except for his own greed in wanting some MacKenzie coin."