by Johanna Maas
He laid his cloak upon the ground and lowered her gently upon it. He then removed a blanket from the back of his horse and placed it over her body in an attempt to protect her from the early morning chill. He sat next to her upon the ground and as he propped himself against a tree, he casually leaned back upon the hardened bark and rested his eyes. As he gazed down at the sleeping maiden through his lowered lashes, he studied her still form in the shadows of the night. Blake found he could not take his eyes from her.
As the early morning sky began to turn from black to a lighter shade of gray and the morning began to dawn around them, Lizbeth began to awaken. She was a bit startled to find herself no longer upon the horse nor before the large and intimidating warrior. She was instead lying on the ground and upon a cloak with a blanket covering her. She slowly lifted her lids and found her face just inches from booted legs. They were very powerful and ones that made her breath quicken as her heart began to quicken.
For a long while, she continued to stare at the body before her as the land began to awaken around her. She lay very still upon the ground as she raised her lashes slightly as her eyes moved slowly up his hardened body taking in every inch of his strength. Slowly she moved her gaze to the plaid covering the clansman and up to the plethora of weaponry strapped securely to his tapered waist. With a slight bit of apprehension, she recognized they were all worn and every one of them were very well tended.
Lizbeth moved her eyes up a bit higher and on to the sculpted chest that rose above. Slowly and methodically she perused each and every sinewy muscle, her heartbeat thundering now louder within her ears as she appraised his power. His massively muscled chest and arms caused a growing warmth within as the sight effectively quickened her breath further.
Slowly, she allowed her eyes to peruse his long and graceful neck, now slowly moving on to the firm chin and the lips above. Lizbeth continued her open perusal of him as she moved her gaze further up to look upon his face and the full of her captor's eyes. With a shock she soon realized they were opened and were now burning into her. A slight gasp escaped as she realized he had been watching her closely during her complete appraisal of him.
As the day awakened, Blake realized the lass was beginning to stir. He could only stare as she became aware of her surroundings and of him while slowly coming out of her slumber. A satisfying feeling washed over his body as she slowly perused him and took all of him in until their eyes locked completely. His were heated and hers were quite shocked. As soon as she realized he had witnessed her bold appraisal of his body, she blushed a very pretty shade of pink and watched as the color started at the tops of her full breasts and ending when it delicately encompassed her cheeks.
This Lizbeth as she had called herself, quickly looked away and an immediate chill swept through his body for the loss of her gaze. For her perusal of him had felt so good and he was surprised by his sudden feeling of disappointment.
Noticing movement a short distance away, Blake watched as the rest of the men began to stir in the early morning light. Understanding they must return quickly on their journey he leaned forward and whispered, "My lady, we will ride soon. I can walk with you so you can have some privacy while you prepare yourself for the day."
Lizbeth looked up at him from her place upon the ground within the blankets knowing the tinge of pink still remained within her cheeks. She simply nodded in agreement, pleased he would think of her needs and the solitude she would prefer to have. She quickly removed her eyes from his as she made her way to rise from her makeshift bed.
They walked together for a short distance on the outside of the trees where he suddenly stopped and turned his back as he silently indicated to her this was the place. Timidly, she moved away and into the thin cropping of trees and behind a large oak. When she had righted herself, she stood to straighten her skirts as a rustling within the brush was heard a short distance away and a slight movement caught her eye. Her breath fixed tightly in her throat and a slight scream escaped her lips as a wild boar spied her and began to descend upon her. She backed up quickly, effectively finding herself pressed now firmly into the hardened oak as the wild animal continued to quickly race towards her.
Lizbeth watched in fear as it came closer. Just as the angry beast was practically upon her, she felt a movement as the large warrior stepped directly in front of her and within its path. The Highlander stepped back towards her and covered her body with his as he protected her and pressed his hardened back into her.
Just as quickly as he did so, he grabbed a blade from his side and she felt his body tense and the movements as he threw the knife forward. Almost immediately she heard the loud squeal of the running beast. Lizbeth moved slightly so she could look beyond his powerful body immediately spying his large blade sticking from the side of the now felled boar. She closed her eyes and took in a deep breath as she willed her heart to calm feeling his hardened body still upon hers. At that moment, she could feel nothing but protected and safe.
Her pulse continued to race as she gasped for air while her eyes moved from the beast upon the ground to the warrior standing in front of her. With a relieved sigh, she was now unsure and questioning which of the two beasts had made her breath quicken so.
After long moments and with no further noise coming from the wild animal, she felt the Scottish warrior move slightly from her. He turned his body around to stand directly before her. He continued to stand very near as he gazed deeply into her eyes with concern.
"Are you alright?"
Lizbeth could only stare as she provided a slight nod for no words would come from her lips.
The Scottish warrior was tall and standing very near to her, the top of her head barely reaching his chin. She remained unmoving as he placed his forearm above her head upon the tree and began to slowly lean in towards her. With his free hand, he tipped her chin upwards so he could see the full of her face. She gazed at him intensely at his deep blue eyes with a sure sense of gratitude written clearly upon her face.
Slowly, he began to bend his head towards hers, only intent upon one objective and that was her inviting lips. Lizbeth lowered her lashes, feeling the definite anticipation when they heard the soft footsteps of men approaching quickly from behind.
The spell was immediately broken as Blake pushed himself from the tree and quickly turned away from her as Lizbeth's eyes opened wide. There was a sure sadness for his loss but a fear for those who were obviously approaching. The massive warrior was once again on alert and ever protecting as he crouched slightly before her.
Blake moved from the woman and looked cautiously about as his hand moved instantly to the hilt of his sword. With a sense of relief, he let out his breath as he spied his brother and clansmen guardedly approaching.
He smiled outwardly as he silently pointed to the fallen animal upon the ground indicating the source of the alarm. Blake then leaned over and pulled his small blade from the felled boar, wiping the blood from his knife upon the ground before returning it to the sheath at his side.
As the men drew near, Blake spoke wryly of the obvious, "We startled the animal..." He looked at his clansmen an eagerness upon his face as he provided the next instruction, "'Tis now light. We must make our way from here."
Lizbeth sighed inwardly with relief upon her heart as the small party made their way back to the waiting horses. A new day had just dawned and the Macnab life was at least for the moment, behind her.
CHAPTER FOUR
The Scottish warriors along with their beautiful Highland captive rode in a northerly direction for the full of the day. Lizbeth was seated once again before the intimidating clansman. While his impressive body had her mesmerized from the moment she saw him, her mind was not on him at that very moment. She was now openly gazing at the sure splendor surrounding them and the rough terrain all around.
Since that ever fateful day those seven years ago when she and her mother had been abducted, she had not been outside of the Macnab walls. She had never been permitted
nor set her eyes upon anything but the lonely castle and the small courtyard surrounding. The only sites she could look upon beyond those confines were from her own window when she would gaze out and into the distant hills. For seven long years, that had been her only world and the tremendous beauty of this new land lying before her was captivating.
The land was rough with rocks jutting from the grassy earth as the trail spiraled upwards through the steep path. Long and high stone walls consumed one side of the trail as steep ledges descended sharply down the other, making their climbs precarious. Onward and upward they traveled, Lizbeth sitting meekly in front of the warrior. She attempted to show little emotion yet she was clearly stunned for the wonder that lay all around them. She sat wide-eyed and ever eager as she absorbed it.
Blake noticed her odd sense of admiration and felt a bit disconcerted for it. While her reactions were hardly more than subtle, he was aware of her eagerness and of the wonder for all that surrounded them. She looked about as if she had never seen such scenery nor had a chance to gaze upon the splendor of the Highlands. But this landscape was nothing new for this terrain spread out over the entire northern side of Scotland. And it made him question once again, who was this creature sitting before him and from where had she come?
Attempting to gain some insight, he began quietly so as not to startle. "My lady, are you enjoying the ride?"
Saying nothing, she simply shook her head slowly as she affirmed what he already knew.
He looked down at her as he attempted to once again engage her in conversation, "Lizbeth, you said was your name. From what clan do you come?"
It was as if she had never heard him and had clearly not wished to respond for she moved her eyes forward and ensured he could see none of her face. She simply continued to gaze at the horizon and all points in between as she sat silently before him. After they rode in silence for a while longer, he attempted one more time for he was still hopeful he could persuade her to answer his questions and gain a better understanding of her life.
"Have you been in this northern part of Scotland long?"
Blake sighed inwardly and shook his head slightly as he finally conceded defeat for the silent lass. It was obvious she would not speak to him of anything including her homeland. For a long while they continued as such, she noticeably absorbed in the landscapes around her and he frustrated for the silence of it.
The party moved slowly and in a single file up one precarious trail as the rocks loomed threateningly above them. As they reached the top and rounded the bend, Lizbeth heard a horse at the front of their party whinny loudly and spied another rear up as the men all became instantly alert. Each one of them drew their swords as a fear swept through the air.
Lizbeth could feel the warrior behind her tense as his powerfully muscled arms surrounded her tightly. Quickly, he grasped at her waist as he moved her from before him and placed her behind him on his great beast. With a firmness in his voice, he instructed her harshly.
"Wrap your arms tightly around me. And under no circumstances should you lessen your grip."
Within moments she heard what must have been a battle cry as the men before her shouted and several dark warriors showed themselves from the other side of the hill. The clang of swords was heard loudly as the men engaged with their attackers and the outcry of sure battle was now upon them. The warrior before her tightened his knees, his large black steed swiftly answering his command as he moved forward into the throng of men. The group of Highlanders all followed Blake's lead as they quickly countered against their unknown foes.
The fear was coursing through Lizbeth as she held on with all her strength while burying her face deeply into the warrior's back. The unfamiliar sounds and smells of combat hung heavily all around her. As she peered tentatively from behind Blake, she spied several dark men sporting a different plaid that was unknown to her. Their enemy's bodies were very well muscled and darkened with grime, all sporting fierce looks upon their faces with hatred in their eyes. They too, wielded their weapons with a frenzy. Lizbeth's breath caught in her throat for the terror she found herself in.
Lizbeth could feel the powerful steed below them prancing and sidestepping as they lunged forward. She felt the muscles within the warrior's body tense as the Highlander lifted his sword repeatedly and heard it come crashing down upon his opponents. Lizbeth heard a dreadful thud as she watched through the corner of her eye a bulky man fall from his horse and land heavily upon the ground. She could not look away from the felled clansman as she watched the blood as it flowed copiously from his chest. And his face. The frightened look upon his now stilled face was branded into her mind forever.
Lizbeth continued to hold on tightly to the warrior's back as they unrelentingly moved upon the battlefield, the sounds of conflict now beginning to slowly fade with the exception of her raging heart. With a final cry, she heard no more as the warrior in front of her slowly lowered his sword and relaxed his body as a relief flooded through her.
With her heart still thundering and her breath obviously ragged, she slowly moved to peer out from behind the warrior before her. Lizbeth cautiously gazed about, the sickening sight now laid out before her. Her breath caught within her throat for she had never had a chance to see a battlefield firsthand nor one so completely littered with bodies. Six unknown men were sprawled across the ground, all unmoving and visibly dead. Their horses were spooked and prancing riderless about. She gazed upon one of the dark warriors who was near, his eyes fully opened and his death-stare entirely upon her.
She averted her gaze quickly while trying not to succumb to the emotions flowing heavily through her body as the warrior put his horse into action. He moved slowly to his men as they grouped near, all the while speaking quietly as he assessed each one of their injuries.
One of the warrior's clansmen had lost his mount and stood upon the ground a short distance away. Lizbeth stared at him with a concern for his one hand was clutching his forearm and the blood was seeping brightly between his fingers and flowing heavily down his arm. Without hesitating, she quickly pushed herself from the back of the horse and intent upon one thing. And that was helping this injured man.
Blake felt her quick movements as she jumped from behind him but was unable to react before she was upon the ground and moving away from his beast. With a concern for the unknown of her actions and the most likely pitiful state she would find herself in, he himself rapidly dismounted as he attempted to gain her side.
Lizbeth approached the wounded clansman of their party with only one thing upon her mind. She would do her duty and attempt to fix what had been injured. She stood in front of him and gently reached forward and towards his blood soaked arm. Before she touched him, she looked into his eyes as she silently asked for his permission to proceed.
With a rigid line to his jaw, he nodded as he presented his arm silently before her. Lizbeth carefully removed his hand from the wound and was able to look into the deep and lengthy gash. While the blood flowed freely and bright red, it was not pulsing with every beat of his heart. She sighed in silent relief knowing that even though it was obviously painful, his injury was not overly severe nor should be life threatening.
Without turning from the man, she spoke out loud and to no one in particular, "Does anyone have a cloth and perhaps a needle?"
One of the men drew near and pressed both items into her hand for the Highlanders were always prepared. She turned slightly to a horse that was but two steps from them and pulled a coarse hair from his tail. Adeptly, she threaded the small eyelet and returned to the injured man, not paying any heed to the clansmen surrounded her who were all looking upon her with a mix of suspicion and awe.
Slowly, Lizbeth drew the cloth over his wound and dabbed at it tenderly as she effectively wiped the blood from his arm. She then carefully and quickly stitched the corners of the skin together, her perfect and even darnings creating a thick line running down his arm. Unbeknownst to Lizbeth, her dainty movements were being closely wat
ched and scrutinized by all.
When she had completed her task, she wrapped his injury with the cloth and securely tied its ends together and firmly into place. She returned the needle to the man who stood by her side and had provided it. With a satisfied sigh, she looked into the injured clansman's eyes with a slight smile as she confirmed her duty was complete.
Contented with her work, she turned abruptly to return to the warrior's horse and realized the remainder of the men were all standing directly behind her and gawking at her. It appeared they too had dismounted and had been studying her closely. She averted her gaze downward as she felt a blush appear upon her face while the tops of her ears became warm.
Blake moved forward towards Lizbeth, surprised for her actions upon the field. When she had left his horse rather suddenly, he was concerned for her welfare and assumed she had befallen into a pitiful state for all that had transpired. He was completely stunned it was not a weakness causing her to alight from his horse and could only watch in amazement as she willingly provided skilled care to one of his men. She knew nothing of him, understood very little of his clan, yet she willingly treated his wounds. He gazed upon her tiny form and shook his head slightly with confusion as respect settled upon his heart.
Blake gazed around at the field of fallen men, thankful his own were well trained and came through the encounter mostly unscathed. But he knew nothing of their aggressor's origin and knew not of their plaid nor if they were a division of a larger party. So as not to take further chances, he spoke with authority, wishing only to quickly exit the area.
"Mount up!"
The Highlander moved closer to Lizbeth's side as the rest of the clansmen disbursed to find their steeds and do as directed by Blake. He looked into her eyes and spoke quietly. He wished only to show his appreciation but knew his words were less than adequate.
