Highland Escape (24 page)

Anna kicked the blade toward his heart, a killing blow. Not quick enough to deflect it with his heavy axe, Alain moved to avoid her weapon. Her blade missed its mark, opening a gash on his upper arm. Twirling and wrapping the rope around her, she kept him at bay, shooting the blade out unpredictably. Within a few moments, he stopped advancing. Bleeding from a multitude of wounds, he seemed to no longer possess the strength to charge. Holding his axe in front of him with both hands, Alain struggled to evade her weapon.

She launched her dart toward him, centerline. As expected, he deflected it with the handle of his axe. Quickly spinning the handle, he trapped her rope between his long axe head and handle. Another two turns secured her weapon to his axe. Anna allowed herself to be pulled toward him.

Using the momentum he provided, she spun around and drew her swords. He dropped his now-tangled axe, drawing a long bladed dirk
.
Before he could reach her, she completed her spin and drove both swords into his chest.

Anna lingered only a moment before racing to Duncan’s side. Though still conscious, he had lost a lot of blood—
too much
. Quickly assessing the others, she discovered Liam had a deep gash on his thigh, and Rory a gash across his chest. Ross bled from a number of small head and leg wounds. Iain and Malcolm, though nicked up, remained mostly uninjured.

Then she saw Donnan, a bolt protruding from his chest, his eyes unseeing. She closed her eyes briefly then turned back to Duncan.

The bolt in his leg did not go all the way through, but the one in his shoulder did. She snapped off the tip and pushed it through as Malcolm put pressure on the front and back of his shoulder with bandages retrieved from the wagon. With Iain holding Duncan’s leg firmly, Malcolm removed the bolt. Anna pressed the wound to staunch the bleeding, earning a growl of pain from Duncan. A warm, furry body pressed against her and Anna glanced up in surprise. Trean flattened himself on the ground at her side, muzzle on his paws, eyes intent.

“Keep out of the way, Trean,” she warned. Seeming to understand her, he wiggled his body once, then was still, though his eyes followed her every move.

Hands shaking, Anna made a poultice of yarrow and rose bark to stop the bleeding, mixing in clove and plantain to ward off infection. She allowed her healing skills to take over, pushing her emotions away. She told herself she treated a fallen warrior, not her future husband. Cleaning both wounds with the whisky Iain produced, she then applied the compound to the wounds, binding them tightly.

Moving to Liam and Rory, she stitched them both. Liam flinched each time her rounded needle darted in and out of his torn flesh, and he pulled hard on the flask of whisky. Rory lay unconscious, a blessing, as his chest wound went to the bone. Ross’s wounds proved shallow and easiest to treat.

Iain, Malcolm and Anna discussed their options. They agreed the men should not be moved for at least a day. They dared not risk further reducing their numbers by sending someone for help. Home remained roughly a day’s ride away.

Iain and Malcolm allowed Anna to treat a couple of smaller wounds she did not initially detect, needing only a few stitches between them. The fact she bore no wound only infuriated her further, creating a deeper sense of guilt. She started a cook fire while Iain and Malcolm searched the fallen. They collected what could be of use, then piled the bodies a furlong away downwind to burn.

A heap of retrieved weapons lay stacked in the wagon when they finished. Included in the haul were eighteen saddled horses picketed a few yards from the ambush site.

Iain approached. “I found these on Alain. Thought ye might know where they came from.”

He dropped a bag of silver coins, along with a note allowing safe passage for the bearer, in her lap. The seal on the note was unmistakable.
The Earl of Northumberland
. Her gut clenched to have her suspicions confirmed. The man had made several attempts in the past on behalf of his son for her hand. Now he offered payment for her capture. With this information, Anna knew in her bones he was the one who ordered the attack on her home, the one who had ordered her family killed. She stowed the items away for further consideration, pushing her thoughts only to the health of Duncan and his men.

Duncan was in obvious pain. Trean had moved his allegiance to Duncan, his small body tucked tight against the man’s side, Duncan’s hand fisted in the plush coat. Anna checked the dressings. The bleeding had halted in both wounds, though she knew movement could tear them open again. The real threat would be infection and fever. The men needed time to heal, but sitting here left them exposed.

As the men completed their chores, Iain stood by Anna’s side while she stirred a pot of stew and brewed a large batch of medicated tea for the wounded.

No tea could ease her pain. Restless, she checked on Rory, still lying unconscious on the back of the wagon, and made Duncan as comfortable as possible. Malcolm took the first watch while Anna stayed by Duncan’s side, absently stroking Trean’s soft fur. She placed her swords on the ground within easy reach, in case of another attack. Staring at the glow of the fire on the hillside where their enemies burned, her thoughts turned several days south.

“Who was it, Anna?”

She inhaled a deep breath, drawing strength from the love and concern she heard in Duncan’s voice. “The Earl of Northumberland,” she replied. “His son chased me for years. He pursued me to the point where his father offered to buy me, as if I was so much livestock at market.” With an involuntary shudder, she handed Duncan the bag of coins and the letter of safe passage. “I heard Alain yell I was worth double unharmed. This man is reaching across Scotland for me, hurting people I care about. What am I to do?” Despair choked her voice.

Duncan took a shallow breath. “I have known Alain all my life. He was overly prideful and misguided, but he wasnae stupid. He wouldnae have told the earl where ye are. If he did, the earl would have sent agents of his own to do the job. Then Alain would be out a purse, and possibly his life. The earl now knows ye live in Scotland, but not with yer grandda’s people. Any man this determined would have made sure of that by now.”

Anna mulled over his logic, her fingers stroking Trean’s tummy as he slept, paws in the air. She smiled to see the pup so relaxed.

Duncan touched her hand. “The question I need answered is, will he still pursue ye if he knows ye are wed?”

The thought shook her. Would he? She truly did not know.

“Men like the earl take what they want, regardless of the law. I would no longer have my virtue, but if his son still desired me, I doubt it would matter. Who could stand up to him if he did? He rules the northern part of England for the crown. It is not beyond him to seek an annulment from the Church on my behalf.”

Duncan frowned. “Who is this son of his who would take another man’s wife as his own?”

Anna’s lip curled at the thought of him. “Henry is a slimy, despicable man whom I could easily defeat in a fair fight. He has been taught to take what he wants regardless of the consequences. Though he lacks his father’s cunning, he is a vile creature. He is one of the reasons I avoided any interest from men. I would fight to the death rather than submit to him.”

Hauling himself jerkily to one elbow, Duncan stared at her. “Anna ye
will
be my wife, and I
will
keep ye safe. I cannae lose ye, too.”

Blinking against tears, she nodded in agreement, though somewhat confused by his words.
Lose me, too?

Duncan shook his head, forestalling her question. “Please promise me ye willnae do something so foolish again. Ye charged the cursed lot of them on yer own.”

Anna heard the pleading in his voice, and she couldn’t be angry with him for questioning her abilities. “I only charged when I heard Alain shout I was not to be harmed. I would not have done so otherwise.”

Judging from the scowl on his face, her words didn’t have the placating effect she hoped for, but he did not press further.

She curled next to him, one arm around his good shoulder as she sifted her fingers through his hair. He calmed, settling under her touch, until he slipped into a troubled sleep. She continued to stroke him, watching as he slept, until Malcolm tapped her shoulder, letting her know of her guard shift. Guilt and fear for Duncan filled her as she listened for signs of another attack. Like him, she could not bear the thought of losing him, too.

What if the earl had sent men to follow Alain?

Chapter 19

After waking Iain for his watch, Anna returned to her bedroll. Before she knew it, light broke over the horizon, signaling a new day. Groggy, she rose to check on the wounded. Only Liam was awake, looking much improved. Color returned to his cheeks, and his wound appeared healthy.

“We would ’ave been done without ye, lass. Ye killed more than your share o’ those men yesterday, then patched us all up.”

She shook her head. “Liam, you do not understand. If it was not for me, you would be home this day. Those men were sent to capture me. ’Tis my fault we were attacked, that you are all injured and Donnan lies dead.”

“Wheesht now, lass. Alain was daft. He would be seekin’ his revenge one way or the other. We all saw what ye done. Ye are part of us now. Anyone who attacks one MacGregor attacks us all. Because of yer skill with a bow and sword, we live. Because of yer hand with a needle and thread, I will soon be dancin’ again. And because of yer bravery and generous heart, Duncan will ’ave himself a bonny bride who will be one of the clan’s best defenders. Donnan’s blood is on Alain’s head, not yorn.”

“Thank you, Liam.” Overwhelmed by his declaration, Anna kissed his cheek.

He winked and hobbled over to check on Rory, who’d still not regained consciousness. Scooting gingerly onto the back of the wagon next to Rory, Liam quietly talked to him, though none knew if the man heard or not. Unwilling to interrupt an intimate moment between brothers, Anna busied herself preparing breakfast.

She tossed out the remnants of last night’s kettle, then brewed more tea while oatcakes cooked. Motioning to Iain, she walked to the front of the wagon where they would not be overheard.

“I worry we are too exposed here. Two of Alain’s men escaped. I cannot help but feel vulnerable here with the forest to hide them, and the river at our back.”

Iain’s easy smile turned grim. “Aye, Malcolm and I believe the same. We thought one of us should ride ahead to find a more secluded spot to camp.” He jerked his head toward the injured men. “How far do ye think they can travel without risking further harm?”

“If they lie down in the wagons, I do not think an hour of slow travel would bring them harm.”

Iain nodded and turned to go. Remembering a question she had forgotten to ask yesterday, Anna grabbed his arm. “Did you recognize the men with Alain?”

Iain shook his head. “Nae, none of us did, but Alain’s mother was a Hamilton, a clan south of Edinburgh. We suspect ’tis them. We put a dirk with a clan badge in the cart to ask when we return home.”

Anna stared into the distance as she considered his words. Iain saddled one of the horses and galloped down the trail.

An hour later, Iain returned, having found a better place to camp three furlongs away. He’d scouted the area thoroughly and reported no sign of activity. Anna allowed herself a sigh of relief.

By this time, Rory had regained consciousness. Still shaky, he painfully sat and ate the last of the oatcakes, letting Trean lick the crumbs from his fingers.

Iain and Malcolm rearranged the carts, transferring some of the lighter bundles to the captured horses, creating enough room for Rory and Duncan to lay in the wagon, a pile of hay between them for Trean. They wrapped Donnan’s body in his plaide and draped him over one of the horses, tying him securely.

At the new campsite, Anna inspected the wounded and added fresh dressings, thankful the ride did not start any new bleeding. They settled in for the day, restless and alert.

Later in the afternoon, four riders approached. Iain, Malcolm and Anna greeted them cautiously at the perimeter of their site.

“We saw the smoke last night, and our laird sent us to investigate.” Their leader identified himself as Dougal MacFarlane.

Iain described the events of the previous day. An angry murmur rose among the MacFarlanes to hear a group of allies were attacked on their lands. They’d not run across any sign of those who escaped and did not recognize the clan crest when Iain showed it to them. Anna suspected the men had returned to the Lowlands. If they were Hamiltons, where else would they go?

Dougal walked to where Duncan lay in the cart and greeted him as an old friend. Trean’s youthful growl brought a smile to his face. “I see ye have a wee guardian.” Keeping his fingers well away from the sharp baby teeth, he halted a pace from the wagon. “I will send a man to report the situation to our laird. When ready, we will escort ye home.”

They agreed to resume their journey at first light. Anna stayed with Duncan through the night while the others shared the watch. At daybreak, they loaded the wounded onto the wagons, tethered the captured horses, and continued their trek. Whether because of their new escort, or lack of enemies, the trip proved uneventful. By evening, they arrived at Ciardun.

They were greeted by the guards at the gate, and word spread quickly of their arrival. The laird accompanied Duncan’s litter inside, Mairi and Nessa following worriedly behind. Rory was placed in the small room Anna used for healing. A small wooden box was placed in Nessa’s room for Trean. After seeing to his comfort, Anna left the drowsy pup in his new bed and dashed to Duncan’s room on the third level of the north tower, where she found the laird speaking with his son in private.