Highland Moon Box Set (BBW Scottish Werewolf / Shifter Romance)

by Mac Flynn

  "Whatever you vassal desires, Laird MacNaughton, you must fulfill your obligation as a laird of the Campbell lands and ride out," Laird MacLaren reminded him.

  MacNaughton's eyebrows crashed down, but he gave a nod. "Very well."

  Tristan turned to Laird Graham. "And you, my laird? Will you ride with us?"

  Graham coughed into his fist and rubbed his chest. "I feel poorly these days, my laird, and must beg ill-health. There is also the matter of my unmarried daughter."

  "I would gladly marry her if it would give us another able-bodied man," Duncan spoke up. Lady Annabel sneered at Duncan, and I noticed the corner's of Tristan's mouth twitched upward.

  Laird Graham paled and sputtered. "B-but I am still old, my laird, and-" Tristan held up his hand.

  "I understand, and allow you to remain here with your daughter until our return," Tristan told him.

  Graham grinned broadly and bowed low to Tristan. 'Thank you, my laird. Thank you."

  Tristan looked to MacLaren. "Will you, also remain, my laird?"

  MacLaren smiled and shook his head. "I would join you on the battlefield and give what advice I may. If the worst is to come, I would at least be able to attest to God of my bravery."

  Tristan set his hand on MacLaren's shoulder and smiled. "I would be honored to receive your advice." He looked out on all our other faces. "Now we shall go to war, and may god grant us favor."

  "Amen," everyone replied.

  Tristan led us out into the courtyard where our horses waited. Those of the three riders were either exchanged for a fresh one or, in the case of Bruce's unique steed, rested enough for one last confrontation. Soldiers crowded the courtyard and many hundreds more lay beyond the castle walls. We mounted our beasts with Ciardha at the back of my saddle, and split ourselves into the two groups. Duncan and Angus eyed Bruce with apprehension, and Angus gave Ciardha a quizzical look.

  Tristan lay at the head of his men, and Bruce was our leader. My love cast a longing glance in my direction.

  "Farewell, beloved," he called to me.

  I smiled. "I will see you soon, my laird," I assured him.

  He gave a nod and looked to Bruce. "Keep her safe."

  Bruce grinned and moved aside so the main body of soldiers could pass him. "As though she was my own daughter, and you fare well in battle, as well."

  Tristan smiled and nodded. "I guarantee it." He turned to the soldiers in the courtyard and those beyond. "Come, my soldiers! To god's victory!"

  "Hurrah!" they shouted.

  Tristan marched his men forth to battle until all that remained was our four horses and we five people.

  Duncan turned his attention to Bruce. "What trap has Tristan devised to fare us through this battle?" he questioned the stranger.

  Bruce turned to him with a grin and nodded at we two women. "Them."

  Duncan raised an eyebrow, and Angus frowned.

  "Are we to surprise the soldiers with women as soldiers? Their laughter will hardly give us time to cut down more than a dozen," Angus guessed.

  Bruce chuckled and turned his horse so the beast faced the gates. "You shall see, but we haven't much time. Our enemies will be upon the valley before nightfall unless we stop them."

  Bruce galloped forward on his horse and we followed. He led us down the High Road where I saw the rear guard of Tristan's long march of men, but we did not keep with them for long. Bruce turned off onto the road taken by Tristan and me on that fateful night. The road wound slowly down the mountain along many miles.

  "We will take the shortest path," Bruce called to us.

  He turned his horse towards the steep hill on our left and we clamored down the rocks that covered the sides of the road. They were the rocks taken from the road itself over hundreds of years and tossed out of the path of many carts. Great, immovable boulders also lay in our path, but though the way was hard the direction was straight to the northeast section of forest.

  All was still and quiet around us. Even the birds had muted their song for the coming battle. The banter between the old lovers lightened the tense mood among our group as we navigated the steep and rocky hillside.

  "I hope the road is not too rough for you, Old Mother," Bruce called to Ciardha.

  She faced straight ahead and towards Bruce and his horse. "No, but the view leaves much to be desired."

  "Perhaps you would prefer riding with me?" he offered.

  Ciardha turned up her nose and sniffed the air. "Only when the gods are among us," she told him.

  "Laird Bruce, I would ask a question of you regarding what we're to do," Duncan spoke up.

  Bruce stopped us at a small patch of flat ground and turned the side of his horse to we three who followed him. "You are to protect these ladies from our foes, and I will do the same."

  "Begging their pardon, but they are merely women," Angus pointed out.

  "Women who have the power of god with them," Bruce reminded him. "And none may smite harder than a godly woman unless she be scorned."

  "But they are still women," Angus persisted.

  Bruce chuckled. "You have a lot to learn about women, young man."

  Angus frowned and opened his mouth, but Duncan held up his hand to silence his younger brother. "We shall see this plan of his, and the women are in need of our protection."

  "But they would not if they were not present," Angus pointed out.

  "But they are, and we will put our faith in God and Tristan," Duncan told him. He smiled and shook his head. "I have seen many impressive tricks pulled by Tristan, and I am curious to see how this one succeeds."

  "And succeed it will if you would follow me," Bruce commented.

  We hurried on our way. The light of the cold winter day waxed and was on its wane before we reached the bottom of the valley. The castle was only a speck in the distance, some twenty miles off. I had never been so far from home, and wondered at the long fields of cut grain and the wilderness that abutted the riches of food. The geography was not much different save for the many boulders that dotted the fields. They could not be moved.

  Bruce guided us to the edge of the forest where lay a small footpath. The trail curved and bent beyond sight, and seemed to be not but a wild creature path through the brambles and trees. Bruce stopped and dismounted, and tied his horse to a nearby tree. Angus and Duncan hesitated, though Ciardha and I joined Bruce.

  "We're to abandon our horses?" Duncan asked him.

  "Only if we don't mean to return, and I mean to return," Bruce retorted.

  "There is no other way?" Duncan persisted.

  Bruce shook his head. "None that would meet our foes long before they reached the valley, but haste is not mired in questions. Come or we will be too late."

  Bruce strode into the path with Ciardha and I behind him. Duncan and Angus hurried after us, and we traveled on foot along the narrow way. The weak sun overhead began its slow descent towards the western horizon. All was quiet save for our footsteps, and the canopy above us blocked out much of the light of the day. Dark shadows lengthened over us and covered the path in a thick veil.

  There came a cry, and turned to find Duncan glaring angrily at his younger brother who stood behind him on the trail.

  "Watch your step!" Duncan hissed at him.

  "Can I help following you closely? There is something not quite right here," Angus returned.

  "That would be the great age of the untouched forest," Ciardha spoke up. She tilted her head back and swept her eyes over the trees around us. "It dislikes intrusions, and the army of our foes is a great intrusion."

  "Are they near?" Bruce asked her.

  She nodded without turning her eyes from the trees. "Aye, and traveling fast. We will have to do our work quickly or we will be-" Ciardha's eyes widened and she spun around to face Bruce. "Behind you!"

  CHAPTER 48

  Bruce unsheathed his sword and turned towards the trail. Something slammed into him so hard that he was knocked backwards into the thick trunk of a tree. He slum
ped onto the ground and lay still.

  "Bruce!" Ciardha screamed.

  She rushed towards him, but she, too, was knocked off her feet and thrown to the ground just off the trail near me. I looked in the direction of our attack and my eyes widened as I beheld the former Bean Lyel who was now Sheehy, the witch of the old laird. She stood before us on the path covered in a black traveling cloak. Her skin was as pale as death and her eyes glowed with a demonic possession. Sheehy's lips were curled back in a hideous grin and one hand was raised so the palm faced outward towards us. I noticed a faint hint of black fog that floated in front of her palm.

  Duncan and Angus hurried in front of me and brandished their weapons.

  "Witch!" Duncan shouted.

  Sheehy snarled at the pair of men. "You are fools to seek to stop your inevitable destruction," she sneered at us.

  "No one is a fool who seeks to do God's work," Duncan challenged her.

  Sheehy tilted back her head and let out a great cackle that echoed in the empty woods around us. "God's work? Your false laird is nothing but a monster."

  "He is a better person than you!" I shouted as I pushed my way through the men and stood between them and the witch.

  "Lady Campbell, stay behind us!" Duncan ordered me. He tired to grab my arm, but I moved out of his reach.

  "I will no longer cower before monsters," I insisted.

  "You, the whore of the wolf, dare call me a monster?" Sheehy mocked me.

  I caught her eyes with an unflinching gaze and my voice rang loud and clear through the forest. "He is not the one who seeks to murder the innocent to avenge the death of an attempted murderer."

  A dark shadow passed over Sheehy's face "She deserved her fate, and I was glad to be of assistance to him in that regards."

  "Then it was you," a small voice gasped. I looked to Ciardha and watched her struggle to her feet. She clutched onto a boulder and glared at Sheehy. "You were the one who advised him on how to poison his own wife."

  Sheehy frowned. "Who are you to know of-" Her eyes widened and she lowered her hand. "No," I heard her whisper. "It cannot be. You were killed."

  Ciardha clutched her chest and turned to me. "Muira, call upon the gods for their help!" she commanded me.

  I blinked at her and shook my head. "Call upon the gods? But I do not know how," I told her.

  "There are no gods who can help you!" Sheehy roared.

  She raised both her arms and strands of dark velvet fog slipped around her arms. The light focused around her hands and back large black balls from which came a hot heat.

  Ciardha rushed over to me and clasped our hands together just as Sheehy threw the balls at our small group. A wall of flame burst from the ground between Sheehy and us. Her balls slammed into the wall and the whole earth was shaken by the impact. The balls disappeared and the wall collapsed, and with its falling so, too, did Ciardha's disguise vanish. She stood as she truly was, a beautiful woman.

  Angus and Duncan's eyes widened, and Sheehy mimicked their response. The witch stumbled back and shook her head.

  "No. It can't be. No one has the power to revive the dead," she whispered.

  "I never died, but you are long past your time," Lady Campbell replied.

  Sheehy steadied herself and scowled at Lady Campbell. "We shall see who is to die and-ah!" Her eyes widened and she clutched at her stomach.

  My eyes traveled down to her waist and I saw that a dagger stuck out from her stomach. I followed the direction of the flight and saw that it had come from Bruce. He stood on his shaky legs with his back against the tree. A grin graced his lips.

  "Never turn a blind eye to your foe," Bruce scolded Sheehy.

  Sheehy grasped the handle of the dagger and stumbled back. She turned to flee, but her feet stumbled and she fell face-first onto the ground. Her body twitched for a moment before she lay still. I furrowed my brow and moved to go to her, but Lady Campbell held me back.

  "Never trust a witch to be dead unless her head is removed," she advised me.

  "And that shall be taken care of shortly," Bruce promised.

  Bruce marched over to her body and hacked off her head with one clean cut. A scream escaped Sheehy's lips, and then there was nothing more. Bruce knelt beside her and rummaged through the folds of her body. None in our group spoke until the wail had faded into the distance.

  "My God. What was that thing?" Duncan spoke up.

  "An evil creature bent on revenge," Lady Campbell whispered.

  "She is dead, and that is all that matters," Bruce commented. He paused and frowned, and his searching hand pulled forth a scrap of paper. Bruce opened the folded parchment and glanced over the contents. "Have any of you men the ability to read?" he asked the brothers.

  "I have," Angus spoke up.

  Bruce gestured for Angus to come to him. "Then read this aloud so your brother may believe the truth of it," he commanded.

  Angus looked to Duncan, who pursed his lips and strode forward. They joined Bruce beside the body and Bruce handed the paper to Angus. Angus cleared his throat.

  "The woman you seek travels through the woods to stop your allies. - S." Angus furrowed his brow and looked up into his older brother's dark face. "What can this mean?"

  "It means there is a traitor among us, and I know of only one who bears the name of 'S' and would do something so horrible," Duncan replied.

  Angus' eyes widened. "The laird's cousin?"

  Duncan nodded. "Aye, and he travels with our laird even at this moment."

  "Then we must hurry to warn him!" Angus suggested.

  "A moment," Bruce spoke up. "We have our purpose in these woods, and if we do not succeed than one man will be the least of our concern."

  "Then we will at least take this as proof of her death," Duncan commented as he reached for the head.

  "Look out!" Lady Campbell called.

  Dark shadows sprang from the earth beneath the body. Their tendrils reached out for the men and Sheehy's corpse

  Bruce and the other men jumped back. The darkness swallowed Sheehy's body like a thick fog and hid her from our sight. When the mist cleared her body was gone. All that remained was a patch of burnt ground shaped as her body. Bruce sneered at the blackened dirt.

  "Filth of the earth. . ." he muttered. He turned to us and jerked his head down the path. "If you are done with your amusement than it is time we pressed on to our greater foe."

  "A moment," Duncan spoke up. He stepped forward and studied Lady Campbell. "I know you, do I not?" he asked her.

  She smiled and nodded. "You do, Duncan MacNaughton, for I am Lady Briana Campbell, wife to the old laird."

  Duncan frowned and grasped the hilt of his sword. "And do you come from the dead as the witch accused you?"

  Briana closed her eyes and shook her head. "I do not. I was saved from the poison by herbs, and escaped to await the day when it would be safe for me to return. That day came when my husband died."

  "The less talk the better for us and not our foes," Bruce called some ten yards ahead of us on the path.

  Duncan unsheathed his sword and glanced between Briana and Bruce. "We will not move forward until I have heard the entirety of this plan," he insisted.

  "Do you now doubt your laird's plan when you are neck-deep in the mess?" Bruce challenged him.

  Duncan furrowed his brow and tightened his grip on his sword. "I doubt the sanctity of our mission."

  "God rewards the victor with victory, and we will ensure ours with fewer speeches and more walking," Bruce advised him.

  Briana still stood by my side, and I noticed her stiffen. He turned her head left and right, and her eyes widened.

  "They come!" she warned the men.

  Bruce straightened and spun around to look down the trail. He viewed it for a moment before he hurried back to us. Angus, too, unsheathed his weapon, though the brothers remained apart from we three. Bruce turned to Lady Campbell and me.

  "Have you both powers to stop them now?" Bruce asked us.
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  Briana shook her head. "I have not, but she holds the ability," she replied as she nodded at me.

  I felt the color drain from my face as the pair turned to me. "What can I do against an army? I could not even defend myself against the witch," I pointed out.

  Briana clasped my hands and smiled. "You have a great power inside you, little daughter. It is your will to protect those for whom you care. Now, more than ever, those you love need you to use your love to save them from these fiends."

  "But how? I do not understand how," I persisted

  "A girl is no defense against so many," Duncan spoke up.

  "She is more defense than your sword," Bruce argued.

  Briana stepped between them and raised her hands. "We haven't time for your bickering. Our enemy is nearly upon us and we must have faith in this young woman."

  "Have faith in a young woman in a coming battle? Are you mad?" Angus questioned her.

  Briana glared at him. "Not mad, and not foolish. She is our only hope to survive."

  While they bickered, my sensitive ears picked up on the faint footfall of hundreds of feet. They crept through the foliage and trees towards where we stood. I glanced at my companions, but they continued their dithering. They would not be prepared for when our foes came, and they would be slaughtered. My valley would be taken, and my family and beloved would be killed, if the traitorous Seumas had not already done away with him.

  I pursed my lips and pressed my fisted hand against my chest. A warmth arose inside me, a feeling that told me to meet my foe in the darkness of the woods. I slipped around my arguing friends and down the path.

  "Andra!" Bruce called to me.

  It was then that I ran.

  CHAPTER 49

  I raced away from them and into the dark depths of the shadowed woods. They followed, but my swift feet took me far ahead of them until I could no longer hear their calls. I was alone in the ancient woods, but I felt no fear. The feeling inside me gave me the comfort and strength to continue on.

  The tread of the enemy grew louder until I glimpsed their helmeted heads and shimmering armor. They marched in one long row that was several columns deep, and they numbered in the hundreds. A soldier led them along the path along with a man in peasant garb. They were completely silent but for their footsteps and the faint sound of metal as it brushed against soft branches.