Stumbling sideways, he refused to fall and blocked the downward swing of a battle-ax. His breathing became labored and he fought not to lose consciousness.
“Son of a dog,” someone said as a hard hit came from the side, sending Tristan stumbling into the woods.
He fell face forward, unable to remain upright while the fighting continued.
Just then, movement of the ground accompanied the sounds of horses racing closer. The hooves pounding gave Tristan the strength to push up.
In the distance, he recognized the Ross tartan. At the same time, the attackers saw them, too. Grabbing a couple of injured warriors, the McLeods mounted and left.
When Tristan looked in the opposite direction, he saw a man dragging Paige into the woods. He struggled to his feet and followed, barely able to lift his sword.
His brother and archers rode past in pursuit of the attackers. Kieran would not allow for any survivors. There would be no truce now.
“Help me,” Paige’s scream was followed by silence as Tristan continued forward. His vision was blurring and he knew that even if he did come upon whomever it was that took her, he’d be unable to defend the woman.
The sound of water took his attention as he was unable to focus. He thought that it would be best to stop. Instead, he listened intently for the woman’s voice. If nothing else, he would point the guards in the direction in which they went.
Tristan swooned and everything tilted. It became impossible to keep his balance and he fell sideways. The fall seemed to continue forever and Tristan realized he’d fallen down the side of a slope. He attempted to get up only to once again fall. It took several more rolls and thumps down the side of a hill until finally coming to a stop on his stomach.
For a few moments, he would rest before making his way back. His eyes were so heavy now and breathing was almost impossible.
He would pass out, there was no doubt. “I…I am here,” he called out but his voice was like a whisper.
Chapter Thirty
The thundering of horses’ hooves followed by shouts made everyone at the evening meal stop speaking. Malcolm got to his feet and Elspeth did as well. Lady Ross rushed out, but Verity remained at the table seeming to be frozen in fear.
Elspeth didn’t hesitate to run after her husband. Her throat constricted upon reaching the courtyard and seeing injured men barely able to ride. There were two men thrown across horses. Gregor Ross was helped down from his mount and carried into the great room.
With loud shouts, people scurried to get out of the way, most sent away by Malcolm’s mother. Not stopping to see what else happened, Elspeth raced to find the healer who lived in a set of rooms next to the stables.
She found that a guard had already alerted the older man who was grabbing bandages and throwing instruments in a wooden medical box.
“There is a basket there,” he said to her. “Fill it with bandages and follow me, hurry.” He pointed at several bottles that she had no idea what they contained.
Elspeth and the healer hurried toward the main house and into the great room where four injured men lay upon tables and two others, who’d not been wounded as badly, sat on benches.
“What happened?” Elspeth asked a guard who stood at one of the tables placing pressure on an unconscious man’s wound.
“Our party was ambushed by those sons of dogs,” he said, lips twisting in fury. “We were outnumbered by more than double.”
She looked to the other three injured men. None were Tristan and she let out a sigh of relief.
Recognizing the warrior as Begawan, she looked up to his face after scanning him for injury.
“See about him first,” Begawan ordered as he motioned to a warrior.
They tore away the young man’s clothing to find he’d been pierced through. The sword had sliced through his ribs. He couldn’t breathe and was bleeding profusely, his lips already turning blue.
Elspeth swallowed and looked to Begawan. “There is nothing to be done for him.” Not wanting to dwell on it, she motioned for a servant to come close. After she placed a thick, folded cloth on the table, she laid him back upon it. “Press down on the wound. If his bleeding stops, we may be able to save him.”
Begawan moved back, allowing the servant to continue as he hurried out to the courtyard.
On the next table was a warrior writhing in pain. He’d been cut on the upper leg and thigh. The angry slashes were deep but not life threating. The bleeding had already stopped.
Elspeth poured tincture directly from the bottle into his mouth. She motioned another servant. “Once he calms, pour water into the wounds and clean them thoroughly. I will sew them shut once that is completed.”
“I can sew wounds, Lady Ross,” one of the maids informed her. “I have done it many times.”
Startled at being addressed as “Lady”, Elspeth was struck silent for a moment. “Very well. See that the wounds are thoroughly washed and call me to look him over before doing so.”
The third man was being looked after by the healer, so she moved to the last one. This man suffered from deep cuts to his midsection. Elspeth cut away his tunic and began washing out the wounds. She kept an eye for where the bleeding came from and began to sew internal wounds shut. When the man convulsed, she waited for a few moments, maintaining pressure on the wounds until he calmed.
When she completed cleaning the injury, she packed the opening with clean cloths and instructed servants to cover him up with blankets to warm his body.
“What are ye doing?” The healer came to stand next to her. “Why did ye not sew his wound shut?” He seemed both interested and annoyed.
She let out a breath, watching the injured man intently. “I am not certain I have found all that is wrong with his inner wounds. They continue to bleed. I will wait to see if they stop. If not, he could die.”
He followed her back to the first young man who remained alive. The servant who’d continued to apply pressure spoke into his ear.
“Seems he has a strong will to live,” Elspeth said as she approached. “Let me look.” When the servant girl removed the cloth, blood oozed, but it wasn’t as much. Elspeth peered at the small wound. “Should we sew him up or leave it be?” she asked the healer who shook his head. “Leave it be. If he lives through the night, he may recover.”
Once again, thick bandages were placed in the front and back of where the warrior had been pierced through. Then Elspeth and the healer wrapped a strap around his midsection tightly.
“Remain with him,” Elspeth instructed the servant girl and looked to the healer. “Where is Gregor Ross?”
“He is over there, refuses to be treated.”
Elspeth left the healer to see about Malcolm’s uncle.
“Just a head knockin’, tis all,” the older man waved her questions away. “When someone hit me from behind, I was passed out for the fight. Tis not right.” He scowled. “It was Tristan. I am sure.”
“Why would Tristan hit ye?” Elspeth knew the answer before she finished the sentence. No doubt, his nephew sought to protect him by making it look as if an enemy had felled him.
“Because he is a fool,” Gregor snapped. “Now he is gone.”
Her eyes rounded. “Gone? Did they take him?”
“Nay. At least I do not think so.” Gregor looked to the door. “I tried to remain awake. Just before passing out, I saw someone come and take the lass. I could not make out who.”
Heart pounding, Elspeth looked around the room. Malcolm had yet to return from the courtyard. She let out a long breath. The battling would continue now. Malcolm would not stop to consider that perhaps the party who attacked were robbers, or perhaps not from the McLeod clan at all.
“I must speak to Malcolm.” She rushed from the room, not stopping even when the healer said something.
For a moment, she stopped to allow her eyes to adjust and then scanned the courtyard. Other than the usual people, Malcolm was nowhere to be seen.
Elspeth hurried to th
e stable master who guided two horses closer. One of them was the monstrous black beast that Kieran rode. “Where is my husband?”
“In the keep I assume, Lady Ross.”
She hadn’t seen him enter but, then again, she’d been distracted. Once again, she went inside and made her way to his study.
Inside stood Kieran, Begawan and Malcolm. They were deep in discussion so they didn’t hear her approach.
“We should go now. They will not expect it,” Kieran said.
Malcolm shook his head. “Tis best to plan. First, we must send men to search for our brother, in the forest and the surrounding land. He may be injured and hiding.”
“I do not think so, Laird. I searched,” Begawan said. “They must have captured him.”
“But ye said that ye watched them taking only their injured.”
“True,” Begawan replied.
Kieran shook his head. “Those dogs do not deserve for us to think on it. We have to attack.”
“What of the lass?” Elspeth spoke up. “Yer uncle saw someone take her away.”
The men turned to her and only Malcolm spoke. “Leave us, Elspeth.”
“He is in the great hall. He’s been injured by a blow on the head.” Elspeth wanted to glare at him for acting as if she were but a mere messenger. “He is well, just needs a wee bit of time to rest.”
“He could have been killed,” Kieran said between clenched teeth. “Like our father.”
Malcolm held up both hands to quiet his brother. “Begawan, ye and six men go and search for my brother. In the meantime, Kieran, ye will plan for two sets of warriors. One group will ride westward and then north and the other the opposite. We leave just as soon as they are armed and ready.”
We. Elspeth’s throat constricted as Malcolm came to her. Taking her elbow, he led her away from the room. “Come, we must speak.”
By the set of his jaw and flared nostrils, he was angry. But was he furious at the situation or at her?
“Ye are hurting me,” Elspeth complained as she attempted to pull her elbow from his grasp. In truth, although the grip was tight, it didn’t actually hurt. However, since her arrival there, he’d never been so rough with her and she didn’t like it.
Malcolm softened his hold on her elbow. “I did not mean to.” Although he said the words in a soft tone, his expression didn’t change.
At the top of the stairwell, they ran into his mother. Her face was blotchy from crying. “Are ye not going to find yer brother?”
“Begawan and several warriors leave now. Kieran and I leave soon after.”
She seemed satisfied with the reply and wiped her eyes with a wrinkled cloth. “I must see about Verity, she is unwell at the news.”
They continued into their chamber and, finally, Malcolm released her arm. “Ye are not to come to the study when I meet with my men, ever. Do ye understand?”
“And why not?”
“Tis not a place for a woman to speak on clan…”
She huffed. “I will do as I please. Ye are not my master. I am not yer slave or servant.”
“Elspeth…” he let out a long breath as if to stop from losing his temper. “As my wife, ye have vowed to obey me.”
He had a point. Elspeth considered it for a moment. “Up until now, ye have not given me any order to stay away from yer study. Tis not to my liking, but if ye ask, then I shall refrain from it. Even if we are in the midst of attack.”
For a long moment, she met his gaze.
“I leave to go find my brother. Remain here. Do not leave the keep no matter what.”
Every ounce of her being wanted to protest. What of the injured? It was in her nature to be at the battlefield where essential needs were most important.
He took her by the arms and peered down at her. “Do not disobey me on this, Wife. I will not forgive ye if ye do.”
It was inevitable, her eyes rounded and her mouth fell open. “Consider the wounded. Tis what I do.”
“Nay. There are wounded here for ye to care after.” He released her and went to his trunk. After removing his clan tartan, he spread the Ross colors onto the floor and pleated the fabric as she watched.
“Malcolm. I know ye have to go. What if someone misled the McLeods? Tis unlike them to attack first.”
He looked up at her. “Why would someone lie to them?”
“To keep the clans at war.” She tapped her chin. “Paige said she was very afraid of Aiden. He is nowhere around…”
Jumping to his feet, Malcolm stalked to the door. Not seeming to care that he only wore a tunic, he rushed out and down the stairs. Elspeth followed but remained at the top of the stairwell. Instinctively, she knew their conversation was not yet over.
“Where is Aiden?” Malcolm asked one of the guards. “Bring him here.”
The man shook his head. “He left after the group earlier. Just behind.”
“Find Kieran. Tell him to come to me at once.” The warrior left and Malcolm stalked back up the stairs.
This time, he rushed to lie atop the pleated fabric and tied it securely around his waist. Upon standing, he pulled the corners up and over his left shoulder, holding it in place with a crest. His gaze never left hers.
Elspeth neared and placed a hand on his chest. “Promise ye will return to me.”
At once, he pulled her into his arms, his face nuzzling into her hair. “I promise.” He pressed a kiss to her temple. “I need ye more than ever, Elspeth.”
When he lifted his head, the expression on his face was hard, reminding her of first meeting him. “Please see about the injured here. Upon my return, if there are more, ye will be needed.”
“Do not worry, I will do as ye ask.” Every word tasted bitter, but Elspeth understood. She didn’t wish Malcolm to be worried about what she did while he was fighting. He needed to be fully focused. “There is one thing I ask.”
“What is it?”
“Attempt to find out the truth first.”
“What truth?” Kieran stood at the doorway. Also in Ross colors, he was as intimidating as he was beautiful. Every inch of the warrior promising swift death, from the daggers at his waist to the huge bow strapped to his back and finally the broadsword on his left hip. His sharp hazel eyes took them in. For a moment, his gaze hesitated where Malcolm’s hand touched Elspeth’s upper arm.
Malcolm didn’t move away from her. “Aiden is missing. I am told he left soon after Tristan and his group.”
Kieran was slow to react. Narrowed eyes moved from Elspeth back to his brother. “Why would he betray us?”
“Tell him,” Malcolm said to Elspeth.
“Perhaps Paige. He came to her several times when she was locked in. Once, he tried to have his way with her. A guard interrupted. She told me to be wary of him.”
The brothers exchanged a look. “Let us go,” Kieran said and left.
Once again, Malcolm brought Elspeth against him and tipped her face up. “Be here when I return.”
It struck her as odd how vulnerable he seemed when they were alone. A protective urge overtook her. “I will always be here, Malcolm. Be with care. I beg of ye to find a way to know the truth. Battle is not always the answer.”
Chapter Thirty-One
Alec stalked across the floor, his footsteps crumpling the fresh rushes that had just been spread. “How could this happen? Why did ye attack?”
Four warriors stood lined up facing the front of the room. Each one was the leader of a group of men who’d gone to intercept the Ross group headed their way.
His father pounded a fist on the table. “If ye saw they were few in number and had a woman with them, obviously they were not coming to attack, but in response to our request for a truce.”
“The bastard double-crossed us,” Ethan gritted out. His narrowed eyes met Alec’s. “I should never trust a Ross.”
The last thing Alec needed at that moment was some sort of remark about trust from the one person responsible for everything that had occurred.
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p; Alec made a slicing motion in the air in his brother’s direction. “Stop talking, Ethan. Ye of all people cannot cast blame anywhere.”
“Ye know I am right,” Ethan persisted.
Before Ethan could utter another word, Alec grabbed his tunic with both hands and shoved him backward. “Shut up, cease with yer nonsense.”
“Stop this at once,” their father shouted. “We must come up with a response. A way to let them know what truly happened.”
Ethan pushed around Alec. “Father, ye know what comes. Clan Ross will attack. We must prepare.”
“What of the woman?” Alec asked the closest warrior. “Did they take her back with them? Did harm come to her?”
The warrior looked to his father and shook his head. “Nay. She was taken away just as we arrived.”
“By whom?” His heart began to pound. Something in the way the warrior paused made Alec’s stomach lurch. “Who took her?”
A different warrior replied, looking to Ethan. “I believe it was Aiden Ross. The man who met with ye.”
Aiden Ross had not only betrayed them, but now he meant to have Paige for his own. The bastard would die. He probably thought to get away while the attack occurred and no one would notice him stealing Paige away.
“I will kill him.” His teeth ground with fury.
Laird McLeod stood, his face set in a resigned expression. “Ethan, go gather the men. We shall prepare for the inevitability of an attack. Ensure that every area of the wall is protected.”
His father continued issuing instructions to the guards, sending some to gather people, others to fortify gates and ensure fires were lit at every archer station. If they were to be in battle, they would fight hard.
Alec went to his father. “If it can be stopped in any way, we should try.”
“I agree. However, it will be hard to get Laird Ross to listen to reason now and I cannot blame him. We attacked a messenger party.”
“Two Ross’ were among those in the group,” a guard informed them. “Tristan and Gregor.”
The Age of Knights and Highlanders: A Series Starter Collection Page 123
