Highland Lover: Book 3 Scottish Knights Trilogy (47 page)

The hawk’s presence might have frightened nearby small creatures to silence but would not account for the unnatural stillness of the forest at large. It seemed to hold its communal breath, to be waiting just as she was for the intruders to reveal their nature. The air was so still that, far below to her right, she could hear waves of the loch, still unsettled from the storm, hushing against the rockbound shore.

The strangers were much closer.

Sound traveled farther and more easily through the woods than most people realized, and her ears remained
deer-sharp as she eased her way. The intruders were a score of yards away, perhaps a bit more, but an effortless bowshot in the open. She would soon be able to see them.

Noting movement near the ground, she saw that at least one creature had followed her from the tower. Lina’s orange cat eyed her curiously through slender branches sprouting new leaves. Without a sound, the cat glided off ahead, doubtless prowling for its supper.

Andrena moved on, too. She did not hear noises specific enough to identify but knew there were at least two or three men. Careful to stay hidden but watchful, she also knew that her sweeping gaze would detect movement if there were any.

A large shadow passed between two large-trunked beeches ahead to her left.

Going still, she waited and watched as a stranger stepped between the two trees toward her. Two others followed. All three wore saffron tunics, kilted plaids of dull reds and greens, swords slung across their backs, and dirks at their belts.

So much, Andrena thought, for Muriella’s certainty—and their father’s—that no one could ford the furious river south of their tower without plunging to the loch and out to sea with the tide. Either the three men had forded it or they’d found other means of trespassing onto Andrew’s land without his or his men’s knowledge.

The man in the tree suppressed a curse at the sight of the lass below him. Who the devil, he wondered, would be daft enough to let a girl wander out alone in such dangerous times? His eyes narrowed as she carefully shifted
her shawl and he saw the dirk in its sheath at her narrow leather girdle.

The louts searching for him would spit her or capture her without heed to the blade she carried. If she had an ounce of wit she would shift her shawl back over it. If they saw it, and they would, they might kill her just to teach her a lesson.

Realizing that he would be wise to recall that they might sense his presence as easily as he had sensed hers and to do what he could to prevent that, he fixed his gaze on a leaf midway between the three men, only five or six yards away now, and the girl moving toward them—ten paces from his tree—and let his mind go blank.

The last thing he wanted was for anyone to sense him watching them.

The men had come more swiftly than Andrena had expected when the birds caught her attention. Irritation with herself stirred at the sight of the three making their unlawful way through her father’s woods. She had expected to get her look at them from the next rise and realized that she had taken longer than intended. In truth, she had paid more heed to the creatures’ silence than to its most likely cause—that the intruders were moving faster than she had anticipated.

Lachina would say, and rightly, that having formed an image in her mind of what would happen, Dree had let her thoughts wander and, thus, had failed to think through all the possibilities of what
might
happen before coming out to investigate.

Hoping that Lina would not learn what she had done,
Dree considered what she ought to do next. She was close enough to Tùr Meiloach for people on its wall to hear the wee pipe if she blew it, so she slipped it out of its pocket into her hand.

Doubtless, the hawks still lingered nearby, as well.

However, she would not hesitate to offer assistance if the men had been storm-tossed onto the loch shore and simply missed their way. So perhaps if she…

What the devil was she doing now?

He tensed as he watched her step out into the path of his three pursuers but knew that he need worry no longer about their sensing his presence. The louts had seen her, and the Fates knew that she was stunning enough, even with that ridiculous boy’s cap covering her hair, to stop most healthy men in their tracks.

She walked with grace on the uneven forest floor and did so without once glancing at her feet. Her posture was regal, and the soft-looking shawl did little to hide a curvaceous, womanly body.

Hearing a scrabbling on the bark below, he glanced down and saw her absurd cat clawing its way up the tree toward him. He could even hear it purr, when it should by rights be flying, claws spread, at the villains approaching its mistress.

“Forgive me, good sirs,” the lass said in a clear, confident tone, her voice as warm and smooth as honey. “Doubtless, you have lost your way, but you are wandering in our woods. I fear that my father, the laird, requires that men present themselves at our tower before trespassing hereabouts.”

“Does he now?” the tallest of the louts said, leering at her. “What else does your father, the laird, ha’ tae say for himself, lassie?”

“We be searching for an escaped prisoner, mistress,” the second man, dark-haired, said sternly. “Ye should no be out here on your own like this.”

“I’ll see her tae safety,” the tall one said. “Come along, lassie. I dinna think ye belong tae the laird at all. A laird’s daughter wouldna be wandering here all by herself. Doubtless, when we tell him ye’ve been pretending tae be his daughter, ye’ll find yourself in the brambles. But I’ll no tell him if ye be kind.”

“I will gladly direct you to the tower,” she said. “It lies—” Breaking off, when he grabbed her arm, she said icily, “Let go of me.”

“Nay, then, I’ll ha’—”

Putting two fingers to her lips, she whistled loudly.

“Here now, what the—”

A sparrow hawk flew from a nearby tree right at his face, flapping its wings wildly and shrieking its angry
kek-kek-kek
as it did.

With a cry, the man flung up an arm in defense. Shearing away at the last second, the bird swooped around and struck again. Flinging up both arms this time, the lout released the girl, who stepped away from him.

The cat had reached the branch on which the hunted man lay stretched, and walked up his body to peer over his right shoulder into his face, still purring.

Short of grabbing it and dropping it on one of the men below, he could do nothing useful, so he ignored it.

Had he his sword with him or even the lass’s dirk, he might have dropped in on the conversation. As it was, he
hoped they would realize from her demeanor that she was as noble as she claimed and would wonder, as he did, why men were not already rushing noisily to her aid, summoned by her whistling.

He had barely finished that thought when three goshawks arrived. Shrieking wildly, and all much larger than the sparrow hawk, they frightened the men badly. The first man, already intimidated by the small hawk, took off running back the way he had come. The others tried to shoo the goshawks away, but they screamed as if they were new parents and the men had disturbed their young.

“Our birds are exceedingly territorial, I fear,” the lass said matter-of-factly.

“Call them off, ye devilish witch!” the dark-haired man yelled at Andrena while flapping his arms. Since he was also trying to protect his eyes with his hands, his flailing elbows had little effect.

“They are scarcely my birds, sir,” she replied, elevating him with that single word far above his deserved station in life. “They simply know that I belong here and you do not. Had I brought my dogs, they would act in a similar way, as I am sure your dogs do when someone threatens you. I cannot call them off, but if you follow your friend back the way you came, they
may
stop attacking you.”

The hawks, acting more helpfully than hawks usually did, continued flying at the two men despite their furious waving and shouts. One reached for his sword.

“Don’t touch that weapon if you value your life,” she said, raising the wee pipe near her lips. “If I blow this pipe, our men will come, so you should know that my father
wields the power of the pit and gallows. Our hanging tree stands just outside our gate, and he will not hesitate to hang you for harassing me. If the men on our wall have not already heard the birds shrieking, they will hear my—”

The man was staring beyond her. Glancing over her shoulder, she saw that in the racket the three hawks had made, she had failed to hear the osprey’s arrival. The huge bird perched on a nearby branch, looking even more immense when it puffed up its feathers and glowered at the intruder.

“She has much worse manners than the others, so do not challenge her,” Andrena said. “Truly, the birds hereabouts do
not
like strangers in their territory.”

“We’re a-going, then. But ye’d best tell that father o’ yours that if he finds our prisoner wandering about, he must send him back to the laird in irons.”

“I will give him your message, but you must tell me who your laird is. I am unable to glean such information from your mind.”

“Aye, well, I thought ye’d ken well enough who we be. The missing chap be one o’ Parlan Pharlain’s galley slaves, taken in fair capture whilst raiding.”

“Then doubtless my father will do as you wish,” Andrena said mendaciously. Andrew would more likely help the man on his way.

The osprey, balefully eyeing the intruders, spread its wings and twitched its talons menacingly.

Abruptly, the men turned and followed their erstwhile companion. The goshawks, being one of the few hawks that will hunt together and now a veritable flock, swooped after the intruders.

Andrena stood for a time, listening, to be sure they
were well on their way. Then, hearing a loud purr at her feet, she looked down and saw the orange cat. It walked right across her bare feet, rubbing against her shins.

“Where did you spring from this time?” she asked it.

The cat blinked at her, then continued around her and back toward the tower. Turning to follow it, Andrena found herself face-to–broad chest with a very tall, broad-shouldered, muscular, half-naked stranger.

Startled nearly out of her wits, she snapped, “Where did you… that is, who are… How did you get so close behind me? I never—”