Bannon looked down at her hand gripping the wool of his morning coat.
Her knuckles were pale and crusted with blood.
Covering them with his palm, he tried to warm them, but it was no use with the wind, so he pulled her against his side. “This… isn’t good, Louie.” He kissed her forehead next to a wide gash matted with her long dark hair. It had come out of its neat bun and slapped them in the face with strands that smelled of smoke and lavender with every gust of wind. He swallowed a lump in his throat. When he’d found her several yards from the twisted metal, unconscious and lying facedown, he’d feared her dead. He could safely say that was the worst moment of his life.
Blinking away tears, he gathered her closer, wrapping her tighter, and buried his face in her hair. He fought not to cough as he said, “I’m sorry, Louie.”
“What for? You didn’t crash the sh-sh-shuttle.”
No, but it was his fault they’d been on the ship, exiled from polite society, sent to spend time on Englor with Payton. Dust, just let them make it to Englor. He’d be on his best behavior. No more talking himself into crazy schemes and blaming it on his muse in the name of boredom. No destroying his dance card. No more ridiculous wagers with Louie. He’d be the epitome of gentility—dancing every dance, making social calls, and spending his leisure time painting. He might even pay more attention to politics, like his parents wanted. Maybe then they’d take him more seriously and listen to him. If he got out of here, he’d make his parents listen. He’d gain their respect.
Louie’s teeth clacked together as she met his gaze. Tears tracked through the soot on her cheeks and mucus dripping from her nose. “Maybe we should run. It would keep us w-warmer. Remember when we were children? We used to get so sweaty out playing and m-my mom would scold us when we snuck into the kitchen and stole sweets.”
Bannon took off his torn morning coat, and the cold sliced into him so swiftly it nearly took his breath away as he draped the coat over her shoulders. “I remember, but if we run and get sweaty, we’ll just be colder when we stop. We can’t run forever.” Actually, as badly as his knee hurt, Bannon couldn’t run at all.
After what felt like a very long time but was only a few yards farther, she stopped suddenly and turned toward him with dazed eyes. For several seconds, she just stood there looking lost, and then she blinked, as if coming back to herself. “Why did you… do that?” She shook her head at him and tugged at his coat. “Put it back on.” She did want to bicker. It just took her longer than normal, which somehow made him worry more.
“No. I still have a waistcoat and my shirtsleeves. You don’t even have a pelisse.” He stuffed her arms into the coat. On the first try, her hand came out the hole on the left arm, but the second time he got it right. Amazing since he had no feeling in his fingers.
“Maybe for a little while.”
He stepped on something uneven, and his ankle twisted under him. A sharp sting arced up his leg, and his stomach churned. Great. He was going to cast up his accounts. Taking a deep breath against the pain, he swallowed down the nausea. He could just breathe through it and—
His knee gave way.
Louie caught him before he fell too far. “You’re hurt worse than you let on.” She tried to frown, but it was ruined by her quivering jaw. At least she felt well enough to try to coddle him.
“We have to keep moving, Louie.” Another drop of something landed on his face, then another and another. He looked up.
The sky had turned charcoal in color with a splash of olive. It was as beautiful as it was frightening, and as he watched a swath of light crackled down to the barren landscape, followed by the rumble of thunder.
Galaxy help them, they were standing in a field with nothing around them. They were the highest things around—the perfect targets for lightning. They’d survived the crash only to be done in by the weather. He didn’t know the first thing about survival in the wild, but he knew they needed shelter quick. The mountain no longer appeared so distant, and the rain came down around them now in a slow constant sprinkle. The lightning was almost frequent enough to light their way, and the thunder rumbled every few minutes.
“Do you th-th-think they will come looking for us? Wouldn’t there be something on the ship, a computer or something, to tell them it crashed?”
Bannon shrugged.
“Bannon, your family loves us. Surely they’ll look for us, right?”
If they didn’t think Bannon and Louie were dead. Maybe he should have left some sort of message near the crash site. With what, he had no idea, but there had to be something there in the debris. Why hadn’t he looked? Bannon glanced behind him, but the smoke was a thin line now. Or was it his imagination? The clouds were so dark, maybe he was seeing things. He pushed the thought away and concentrated on their immediate problem. Was that a cave? “Louie, what is that?” He pointed toward the horizon of rolling hills. There was a black spot in the gray rock face. It was only about a third of the way up. They could make it there. They had to.
She shook her head, jostling his chin. “All I se-se-see is rain. It’s really coming down now.”
It was. A curtain of water surrounded them. Even the tall, purplish flowered grass they waded through started to lean over from the weight of it.
“No one lives here.” Her voice wavered. “Bannon?” She turned toward him, gripping his waistcoat in her fingers. “We’re going to die, aren’t we?”
“Don’t give up on me.”
Lightning crackled down only a hundred feet or so from them, shaking the ground and letting out a deafening roar.
They both jumped, and Louie began shaking even harder. Her legs bent, and she slithered down his body to the ground and collapsed into a heap.
“Come on, get up. We can’t stop now. If we sit here, we’ll freeze to death.” Or drown. He reached down, trying to catch her under the arms and pull her up, but his shoulder protested, and she shrugged out of his grasp.
He bit his bottom lip to keep from whimpering and clutched his shoulder with his other hand. Gazing up at the mountain, he couldn’t find the long black spot. It had moved. He turned his head, frantically searching. There. It hadn’t moved; he had. He was closer now. The cave was not nearly as high up as he’d thought. He judged it to be at least one hundred yards till they reached the base of the mountain. “We have to make it to that cave.”
Blinking up at him with tears in her eyes, she shook her head. “I’m tired. Let’s rest for a few moments.”
He shook his head hard, his entire body protesting. He didn’t want to die. He couldn’t die. Not without his family knowing how sorry he was…. How much he loved them. “Louie, get u….” Damnation! She’d stopped shivering. Her last plea had been without a stutter. She was in shock. Even now as she lay down and stared up at him, her teeth weren’t chattering. She didn’t even try to blink the rain out of her eyes. That was a bad sign. Maybe he should cuddle her close and warm her. Get out of the wind.
Bannon tried to sit down next to her gracefully, but his knee finally buckled beneath his weight, and he crumpled to the ground. Pain shot up his thigh to his hip. He tried not to bellow but wasn’t entirely successful. Rubbing his thigh, he lay on his back, staring up at the darkening sky and furious spray of water. The sky was nearly black. Within an hour it would be night, the temperature would plummet. A sick feeling washed over him, followed by nothing. He felt numb, not just from cold, but his brain finally gave up. He couldn’t think, it hurt to breathe, and it hurt to move.
Louie crawled over, laid her head on his shoulder, and snuggled close.
Wrapping his arms around her, Bannon blinked back tears, knowing they couldn’t stay here. But perhaps they could just rest for a moment…. He didn’t want this to be the end. He hadn’t done anything with his life, not like his brother had. Tears streamed from his eyes. This was one mess Blaise wasn’t going to be able to rescue him from. The image of his brother’s smiling face haunted Bannon. He’d never imagined that Blaise’s
wedding would be the last time he saw his brother and his parents.
Something jabbed him in the ribs, and a loud clacking reached his ears.
“B-B-Bannon?”
The clacking was his teeth. He clenched his jaw together, willing the chattering to stop, and blinked his eyes open again; the skin around his eyes pulled taut but there was no pain, no feeling. Where was he? Why was he so cold?
Louisa’s face appeared over him. She was soaking wet, and her skin had such a bluish tint. He could barely make out her freckles. Where? What? It all flooded back to him. Blaise’s wedding, getting on the Lady Anna, the shuttle, Percy Edmonstone and the other diplomats. A pang hit him in the chest. He didn’t like Percy, but he hadn’t wanted the dandy to die.
A thundering sounded in the distance, and Bannon tried to sit up, but his body didn’t respond. Glancing around, he searched for something to help. The storm had slowed back to a soft steady sprinkle. How long had they slept?
“Bannon, d-do you see what I s-see?” She pointed.
Squinting, he rolled to his side. Something… no, not something, but several somethings were moving. Coming closer. The rumbling thunder grew louder, and Bannon fancied he could feel the earth move. Panic clawed at his chest, and his mind whirled. That wasn’t thunder.
Big dark beasts came into view. Smoke poured out of flaring nostrils as the harsh sounds of breathing filled the air. The red glow behind the mountain gave the appearance of fire. Or was it really fire? Maybe they had died and these were beasts from hell.
They had to get up, to run, to…. No! Bannon shook his head, trying to clear it. They weren’t dead. That was steam from the cold, and those were horses with riders. About a dozen of them.
He forced himself to a sitting position as the riders drew near. Maybe they weren’t going to die out here after all.
The ground stopped shaking, and the men stopped about six yards away from them. The man in the lead jumped off his horse, grabbing its reins, just as the last of the red glow behind the mountain disappeared for good. Darkness made it difficult to see, but he looked big, dark, and very rough with a long shaggy beard. A billow of steam surrounded his head, giving him a demonic look.
Bannon swallowed the lump in his throat and ignored the hairs standing up on the back of his neck and arms. Something in the way the man stood, legs apart, shoulders stiff, made him seem menacing. The giant drew a large sword from a scabbard on his back. Bannon had the sudden realization that this was not a rescue and these men were not here to help them. Then his gaze drifted lower and…. “Is h-he wearing a skirt?”
Louisa nodded against his shoulder. “I was going to say a b-b-blanket, but yes. I guess that means you see him too?”
§ § § §
“Get moving, outsider!”
Bannon winced at the shove to his back, but at least it wasn’t a sword point again. Their situation had gone from bad to worse in a hurry. The group of men barely said two words to them—just hauled them up and marched them up a mountain. At this point, Bannon could barely feel his toes and his knees threatened to buckle every five steps or so, but at least he wasn’t in imminent danger of being run through by a sword if he stumbled and fell backward.
Rolling his shoulders, he tried to get the feel of being poked by the tip of a sword out of his mind. That was how the men had made him move to begin with. Then they’d realized he was so weak and tired that they didn’t need the swords to herd him. It was both a hit to the ego and a relief, because moving as they were, up a slope with loose rock underfoot, was not an easy task when one was dead on their feet. Right now, if not for Louie, Bannon would just collapse and refuse to go farther and deal with the consequences. Honestly, he was beginning to wonder if death might be preferable. He was soaked to the bone, cold, and hurt absolutely everywhere.
Bannon peered over his shoulder at Louie, who was walking slightly behind him, and his heart stuttered in his chest. She was drooping, her eyes were even closed, and her complexion was so pale, she looked like a ghost. They had to stop before she collapsed. Glancing back at the men behind them, Bannon debated the best way to get their compliance. Most were on horseback, but two of them were walking and leading their horses. Every fourth barbarian or so held a torch. They seemed to be taking turns herding Bannon and Louie, because these two now on foot were different from the ones earlier. This duo was a bit older and without swords, though still a scary couple, with lanky, dirty hair and smudges on their skin despite being drenched in rain. Did any of them own razors? Or hair brushes, for that matter? Yes, barbarian was an apt description. He tried asking what they meant to do with him and Louie already and only got a grunt in reply. “Where are we going?” got the same response. They weren’t a talkative lot.
Taking one look at the trail ahead, Bannon decided to try again. The trail led through mountains with high cliffs on each side of them. The rock faces were blocking some of the wind, thank goodness, but it also made the wind whistle in a spooky cadence—like banshees howling. If he wasn’t already terrified, the sound alone might have given him the willies. Up ahead the path sloped down at a sharp angle and was fraught with rocks and pebbles. It might actually be worse than climbing. Definitely harder to keep their balance.
Turning back over his shoulder, Bannon sought out the man closest to him. He looked… not gentle exactly, but not as angry as the rest. The others looked mad at the universe. “Excuse me?”
The man raised a brow, so Bannon took that to mean “What?”
“Can we stop and rest for a moment? We’ve been walking for hours.”
The man quirked his mouth to the side in a sort of frown, but didn’t say anything.
Sighing, Bannon turned around fully and pointed to Louie. “She’s dead on her feet. We were in a crash. We’re cold and sore. Please….”
Looking at Louie, who had stopped in front of him, with her head hanging down and her hair in her face, made him want to cry in frustration and beat these savages senseless. The sight of her so bedraggled was even worse than the pain in his poor abused body.
With a sigh of his own, the man glanced over his shoulder, and he too stopped walking. He was going to relent; then the brute walking with them growled at him.
“Keep going!”
The slightly less brutish man began to protest, “But….”
“No buts. We’re almost there.” The loudmouth caught up with them in two huge strides, planted his hand in Louie’s slumped back, and shoved.
She never saw it coming and didn’t even try to brace—it was doubtful she even could if she’d wanted to. She slid on the rocks, knocking right into Bannon. Her shoulder slammed into his chest, stealing his breath and her head cuffed his chin.
Bannon’s lungs squeezed tight, his vision wavered, and his body tipped backward. With just enough presence of mind to keep from going headfirst down the narrow incline, he wrapped his arms around Louie and leaned forward. His arse hit the ground first, jarring his teeth and making him bite his tongue, then momentum carried him onto his back. Agony washed over him in a tidal wave as he skidded backward down the incline with Louie on top of him. He watched rocks and the cliff face zoom past with the knowledge that he was going to die! They were on a mountain pass with a cliff on one side of them and a valley on the other. The drop-off was steep in some places, but even in the spots it wasn’t steep, it was a long way down. He couldn’t breathe, he couldn’t stop their downward fall and all the pain coalesced in his stomach, threatening to cast up his accounts. His head stopped their progress by smashing into an outcropping.
Pain slashed through him, and his vision wavered. The weight on his chest lifted as something squashed his stomach and butted up against his testicles. It would have hurt, should have, but not being able to breathe consumed his attention until everything went black.
§ § § §
Och, but this was not good. Ciaran stared down at the campfire below him and frowned at the two captives slumped against a boulder right in the middle of t
he pass where it opened up into a large plateau. He couldn’t tell much about the duo other than the male had bright red hair and the female had brown. Their odd clothes were torn and dirty, like they’d been through an ordeal, and from what Ciaran had overheard, they had. He now had the answer to where the black smoke came from. According to the MacLeans, these two had survived a ship crash. This was a strange new development.
Careful not to make any sound, Ciaran reached up and rubbed at his right temple. He was getting a headache.
Trying to learn the origin of the black smoke and get away from the storm as quickly as possible, they’d decided to cut through the pass. But before they’d gotten to the narrow path that had been carved by a river centuries ago, they’d heard voices and detoured to the cliffs. Fortunately, the storm had died down, so lightning was no longer a danger, but here he was on a cliff on his stomach once again, after spending most of the day thusly. He’d found the perfect spot to hide—between two giant boulders with only a sliver of space between them. He was well hidden from the men below, but he was close enough that any sound on his part could give him away, and given the amount of sand and pebbles, it was a real possibility the longer he stayed. He’d had about all he could stand of cliffs today, but once again he was learning something new. Something that he sensed could very well impact his future and that of his clan.
A soft nudge landed against his ribs, and he glanced over to find Angus glowering beside him. Angus jerked his head to gesture behind them, then very slowly crawled backward on his elbows, placing his limbs very carefully, trying not to make big moves or noise.
Ciaran debated shaking his head, but on his other side, Ram was doing the same thing, moving cautiously backward. No doubt they were both ready to get home. It had been a long day, but Ciaran was loath to leave. It was the oddest thing, but he felt as though he were meant to be here. Which was ridiculous because he couldn’t do anything else, especially not with only him, Ram, Greer, and Angus. He already suspected that the MacLeans were involved with the outsiders building on their land, even if he hadn’t learned who the outsiders were or how and why the MacLeans were allied with them. These new outsiders… they were different.
My Highland Laird: Sci-Regency Book 5 Page 4