Awoken: A Medieval Scottish Romance (The Sisters of Kilbride Book 2)

by Jayne Castel

  Leanna shifted her attention from the outlaw leader and focused on Ross. His face was pale and taut, his midnight blue eyes darkened to black. With a jolt, she realized he was struggling to rein in his temper.

  Casting aside the piece of meat he’d been eating, Ross got to his feet. “We can’t stay here,” he announced roughly. “Yer man has put Lady Leanna at risk. We need to go now.”

  Silence settled around the fireside. No one touched their food now or sipped from the skins of ale they’d been passing around. Instead, the men and women seated there watched Ross with strained expressions.

  “Aye … maybe that’s for the best,” Craeg admitted finally. “If Brochan has indeed gone to MacKinnon, he’ll likely get the whereabouts of this camp out of him eventually. Ye should leave and get a head-start on him.”

  Around them, outlaws exchanged glances. Next to Gunn, Fenella frowned. “Maybe we should also think about packing up and going?” she suggested. “Ye have no idea how many men MacKinnon has in his guard.”

  All gazes shifted to Ross then, and Leanna’s breathing quickened. Of course, he’d know.

  “There will be at least eighty of them,” Ross replied coolly. “Possibly more if MacKinnon empties out The Dunan Guard.”

  This news made Leanna start to sweat. She glanced around her. He was right. They had to go.

  However, for the moment, Ross’s attention was focused upon the outlaw leader.

  Craeg’s gaze shadowed. His lips parted, as he prepared himself to question Ross once more.

  However, a shout behind them forestalled him.

  “We’re under attack!”

  The group around the fire scattered. One moment they were seated there, watching the exchange between their leader and Ross, the next, men and women were rolling to their feet and lunging for weapons.

  A heartbeat later cries echoed through the settlement.

  A young man sprinted toward them, face flushed with panic. Craeg, who was already up on his feet and had drawn his sword, met him.

  “It’s MacKinnon!” the lad announced, eyes wide with panic. “He’s found us.”

  Craeg spat out a curse, his expression turning savage. “Why haven’t the scouts alerted us?”

  “They’ll be dead.” Ross drew his own claidheamh-mor, his expression fierce now. “As will yer foolish friend. Ye of all people should know that ye under-estimate Duncan MacKinnon at yer peril.”

  25

  Lethal

  CRAEG’S GAZE CUT to Ross, his moss-green eyes darkening to jade. Gunn had stepped up to the outlaw leader’s side while, behind him, Fenella had shouldered a quiver of arrows and taken a longbow that one of the outlaws passed her.

  I need a bow too. The thought rose, unbidden, before Leanna dismissed it. Her body trembled, and her heart raced; she wasn’t sure she could think straight right now, let alone wield a weapon.

  Instinctively, Leanna stepped close to Ross and reached for him, her fingers curling around his forearm.

  “The guard has at least twenty bowmen,” Ross spoke up then, his gaze spearing Craeg’s. “All the others will have claidheamh-mors.”

  “All of them?” Gunn interrupted them, alarmed.

  “MacKinnon has always invested heavily in The Dunan Guard,” Ross replied, his mouth twisting. “Most of them will be wearing mail shirts as well.”

  Craeg’s face turned grim at this news. “Will MacKinnon be leading them?”

  “After the injury Leanna dealt him, I’d say not,” Ross replied. “He’ll be there though … watching at the rear.”

  Something feral moved across Craeg’s face. Watching him, Leanna realized that the man wanted MacKinnon to be there. He wanted a chance to have his reckoning upon him.

  Spitting out another curse, Craeg then sprang into action, shouting orders at the panicked men and women who scrambled around him. The low timbre of his voice echoed across the valley, and Leanna noted that his commands had a calming effect on the band. The alarm quietened, and instead the outlaws gathered their weapons and fanned out around the perimeter of the village.

  Moments later the twang of bow-strings releasing cut through the gloaming. MacKinnon’s men had initially kept to the shadows, hiding amongst the trees. But now, as they loosed their arrows, they advanced upon the settlement itself.

  Ross glanced around, his features tightening. “They’ve got us surrounded,” he murmured. This comment earned him a sharp glance from Craeg, to which Ross answered. “Aye … it’s his preferred method of ambush.”

  Craeg’s gaze flicked from Ross to Leanna. “Ye need to go now,” he said roughly. “While ye still can.”

  The outlaw turned then, dismissing them, his attention upon the figures that approached from the perimeter of the village. Many of his men had already engaged the attackers. The whistle of flying arrows and the clang of blades clashing split the misty air.

  Leanna watched the outlaw leader stride off to join the others, and then she took an instinctive step closer to Ross. “What now?” she gasped.

  An arrow flew past and embedded into the door-frame of a nearby hut. Leanna tensed, fighting the urge to cower. She felt so exposed out here. Fletched arrows peppered the air now.

  “Ye heard the man,” Ross grunted. “It’s time to leave. Come on.”

  Together they edged back from the fire pit, gazes scanning their surroundings. There was fighting on all sides, it seemed, and shouts and cries rang out over the valley.

  Fear clutched at Leanna’s chest, and her legs trembled under her. She didn’t know how men coped with battle. She felt as if she might lose her wits if someone ran at her swinging a broad-sword.

  However, Ross remained calm, focused, his gaze flicking left and right. A few yards to their right, they came upon their first fallen outlaw. A young man with an arrow through his neck.

  There was nothing they could do for him so they kept moving, heading toward the northern edge of the village. Ten more yards in, and they found themselves on the edge of a pitch-battle. Men flailed and stabbed at each other.

  Leanna’s legs wobbled once more, threatening to give way as terror seized her. She dug her heels into the ground, yet Ross towed her forward as if she weighed nothing.

  “I need to find ye a weapon to defend yerself,” he said, his voice tight with tension.

  He cut down a man who’d broken through the outlaw lines and lunged toward him, before they reached the prone figure of an outlaw woman. A discarded longbow lay upon the ground next to her.

  Ross grasped it and passed the weapon to Leanna, before he pulled out the quiver of arrows from beneath the woman’s body and looped it over Leanna’s shoulder.

  Their gazes fused for an instant, and then he flashed her a hard smile.

  “Time to put yer skills to use, m’eudail.”

  My darling.

  The endearment cut through the horror of the attack, just for an instant, and then Ross was swinging away and raising his sword to fend off another of MacKinnon’s men.

  They would know him, Leanna realized, for until a day ago he’d been Captain of The Dunan Guard.

  And yet Ross didn’t hesitate to bring the man down, slicing him across the neck. The warrior crumpled to the dirt, blood pumping from the wound, his body convulsing.

  Leanna’s heart started to pound at the sight, and she swallowed down bile.

  Ross moved back from the fallen warrior, his attention shifting around them. “The fighting’s too thick here,” he observed. “We need to find another way out.” He glanced Leanna’s way. “Draw an arrow and follow me.”

  With trembling fingers, Leanna did as bid.

  She suddenly wished she hadn’t boasted to him of her skill with a bow. It was true that she’d spent most of the last two years training, and that she had a good aim. But that was when she was calm and focused.

  Not when she felt sick with fear.

  Nonetheless, she wasn’t going to admit such to Ross. He needed her support, and she would have to give it.
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  Leanna notched the arrow into the longbow and hurried after Ross, retracing their footsteps toward the center of the village.

  And when they returned there, they discovered chaos.

  The fighting from the east had shifted in, and Craeg was now facing the MacKinnon warriors on the edge of the clearing that marked the heart of the settlement.

  Upon spying the fighting, Ross breathed a curse.

  As they’d expected, things were going ill for the outlaws.

  “We should keep going,” Leanna whispered. She glanced south, at the steep wooded hillside that backed onto the village. Surely there would be fewer MacKinnon men up there. If they ran now, no one would see.

  Ross glanced over his shoulder, following the direction of her gaze.

  She could see he was torn. He wanted to run, but something prevented him.

  Spitting out another curse, he shook his head. “Not yet … ye stay here and try to pick off as many of The Dunan Guard as ye can with yer bow.” He managed a harsh smile then. “Be careful of yer aim though.”

  With that, Ross turned and strode off toward the skirmish.

  Panic grasped Leanna by the throat as she watched him go.

  What’s he doing?

  They needed to flee, but instead he’d decided to join the outlaws. Stepping up to Craeg’s side, Ross swung his sword at a huge MacKinnon warrior who bore down upon them.

  Terror welled within Leanna.

  Mother Mary, we’re all doomed.

  Leanna gulped in a breath, and then another, in an effort to quell the fear that now pumped through her.

  Part of her just wanted to turn on her heel and run—and yet she didn’t. She couldn’t abandon Ross, not when he was acting so bravely.

  She had to help as well.

  Inhaling deeply, Leanna positioned herself side-on to the fracas and lifted her longbow. She drew it taut and raised the arrow so that it was in line with her eye. It was difficult to get a clear shot, for both sides were engaged now, yet she bided her time.

  Breathe.

  She exhaled slowly, before drawing in another breath. Then, she held it and awaited her chance.

  A heartbeat later, it presented itself.

  One of the MacKinnon warriors staggered back, after deflecting a blow from Craeg. For just an instant, Leanna had a clear line of sight.

  She loosed her arrow.

  Thud. It embedded at the base of the warrior’s neck. He choked, his free hand clutching at the fletched arrow.

  Craeg glanced her way, his gaze widening when he saw who had fired upon his opponent. Then he inclined his head in a gesture of silent thanks before wheeling around to face his next attacker.

  Leanna notched another arrow and raised her bow once more. After firing upon the first of the MacKinnon warriors, a strange calm had settled over her. Before loosing that arrow, she’d been so scared her hands had shaken. Yet they were steady now, and her gaze narrowed as she sought out another of The Dunan Guard to bring down.

  A tall man clad in leather with the MacKinnon sash proudly displayed across his chest burst through the fighting. He bore a massive claidheamh-mor—a weapon that had to be wielded two-handed, one that few women would be strong enough to use.

  However, a woman wielding a longbow could be just as lethal.

  A tight smile curved Leanna’s mouth as she sighted her next target.

  Perhaps the longbow wasn’t such a useless skill after all.

  26

  On the Run

  SWEAT SLID DOWN Leanna’s back, trickling between her shoulder blades. Ignoring the ache in her upper arms and shoulders, she notched yet another arrow and sighted her next target.

  However, as she did so, she realized that the fighting was drawing nearer. The outlaws were doing a valiant job of defending the village, yet inch by inch, MacKinnon’s men were tightening the noose.

  Ross fought at Craeg’s shoulder, while a few yards away, Gunn swung a heavy axe at his assailants. All three men were sweat-soaked and blood-splattered, yet they didn’t let down their guard, not for an instant.

  It mattered not though—for eventually they were forced back.

  Not shifting her gaze from the fracas, Leanna drew away a few yards. Her quiver was almost empty. Soon, she would have to go in search of more arrows.

  Hopelessness rose up within her—a chill, sickly feeling. It punctured the calm that had enabled her to bring down a handful of MacKinnon’s men.

  She’d helped slow the tide, but she couldn’t stem it completely. There were just too many of them.

  And then, as she notched her last arrow, she saw Craeg stagger.

  An arrow had just hit his left flank.

  The outlaw swore savagely and swung his blade at the warrior he’d just engaged. The pain of the arrow hit seemed to galvanize him, for he brought the man down an instant later with a savage cut to his groin.

  Clutching the wound to his left side, where the arrow now protruded, Craeg turned to Ross.

  “Run, Campbell,” he rasped. “I’ll focus on taking what’s left of my people to safety … but ye need to get Lady Leanna away from here.”

  Ross, who’d just bested a pike-wielding warrior, turned to him. His gaze widened when he saw Craeg was wounded. “Ye need help,” he replied.

  “And I’ll get it,” Craeg countered, before he favored Ross with a savage grin. “Thank ye both for coming to our aid. Now get out of here before ye end up skewered on a claidheamh-mor.” The outlaw leader glanced Leanna’s way then, just as she loosed her last arrow.

  The warrior with the pike wasn’t dead. He’d staggered to his feet behind Ross and was drawing his dirk. The arrow thudded into his breast, and he crumpled with a cry.

  Craeg shook his head in wry bemusement, as if he found it hard to believe she possessed such skill with a bow. “Go now, milady … ye won’t get another chance.”

  Ross didn’t need further urging. With a nod at the outlaw leader, he strode past him toward Leanna. She tossed her empty quiver and now useless longbow aside as he approached.

  Meanwhile, Craeg turned away to focus on the fight once more.

  Leanna’s last glimpse of Craeg was of a tall, dark-haired figure, flashing his sword as he lunged forward to meet his next opponent.

  They fled through the cluster of tightly-packed dwellings toward the southern edge of the village.

  Ross’s breathing was coming in sharp gasps now. The fighting had drained him, but he couldn’t afford to rest yet. He wouldn’t do so until he’d gotten Leanna to safety.

  Craeg’s situation concerned him. He knew as well as the outlaw leader that they were on the losing side of the battle. Shortly, Craeg would need to retreat with what was left of his band, or they’d all be slaughtered.

  Ross and Leanna had to run now.

  The fighting was sporadic at the southern fringes, and they managed to avoid it by ducking behind some store huts and edging their way out. Poised on the perimeter of the village, they shared a look, before Ross took hold of Leanna’s hand.

  “Are ye ready?” he whispered. “Once we run, don’t look back.”

  Leanna gazed back at him. Her face was pale and taut, yet her small mouth had flattened into a determined line, and her eyes were narrowed. She hadn’t lied when she’d told him she knew how to wield a longbow; Ross had rarely seen such a true aim. It was dangerous to fire upon a skirmish like that, as you risked hitting an ally, yet Leanna had impeccable timing.

  Ross squeezed Leanna’s hand once, and then he sprang forward, away from the cover of the store houses. They made a dash for the dark wall of pines. It was a dull afternoon, but they’d have a few more hours of daylight to flee in, before darkness would slow their progress. Even so, Ross didn’t know this part of the isle well. He was taking Leanna into rough, uneven terrain, but he had no choice.

  It was either that or face Duncan MacKinnon.

  The thought of what that bastard would do to Leanna made Ross clench his jaw and lengthen his stride. He
didn’t care what happened to him; he could handle it. However, MacKinnon’s revenge upon Leanna if he caught her would be terrible—slower and less bloody most likely, but ultimately much worse.

  They reached the trees, and immediately the heady scent of pine resin enveloped them. A mattress of soft pine needles lay underfoot, masking the noise of their footfalls. Behind them, shouts and cries echoed high into the valley.

  Ross’s belly twisted at the sounds. The fighting was not yet done. He wondered if any of the outlaws would survive the attack.

  Tightening his grip on Leanna’s hand, Ross sprinted on, weaving in and out of the tightly-packed pines. Branches snatched at his limbs, and prickly pine-needles clawed at his face, yet he didn’t slow his stride. He needed to get Leanna to safety. Right now, he could think about nothing else.

  Leanna didn’t know how she kept running. Each breath was ripped from her lungs, which now felt as if they were on fire. Her legs wobbled underneath her, making her stumble.

  Shortly after escaping the village, the land rose steeply, and the way grew steadily rougher. Boulders rose from the rocky ground, and the trees became sparser.

  They were climbing a mountainside now, yet they couldn’t halt to rest, not yet.

  She had no idea if they were being pursued or not; she couldn’t hear anything over the pounding of her own heart and the roar of blood in her ears.

  Soon they were climbing their way over mossy rocks and through stunted pines.

  Eventually, the rocks gave way to shale, and they started to slip and slide.

  “We need to continue south,” Ross panted. “Maybe there’s a pass down the other side of the mountain.”