Highland Honor

by Dana D'Angelo

  She opened her mouth to protest but a sob escaped instead. She threw her head back. She could feel the velvet hardness of his shaft rubbing against her own softness. The exquisite torture was almost too much for her to bear.

  His hands were on either side of her, the look on his features intense and savage. He pushed his lean hips forward, the tip of his member finding her entrance and sliding in. For a long moment, he remained motionless. He reached to caress her cheek and began to gently kiss her lips, allowing her to get used to the feel of him inside of her.

  “The next part is unavoidable,” he said, his tone almost apologetic.

  She understood his full meaning when with one quick thrust, he buried his shaft inside of her. At the swift invasion, a puff of air rushed out from her lungs and she arched her back. At the same time, her eyes widened as she felt the sharp pain stab through her center.

  He raised himself on his hands, peering down at her. “Are ye all right?” he asked, his emerald orbs filled with concern.

  “Aye,” she said. Although she was still dazed, the discomfort faded quickly.

  Relief crossed his face, and he then began to gently rock his hips. The slow, smooth momentum began to ignite a flame in her belly. Then as if she tapped into some innate knowledge, her hips began to move, naturally matching his increasing rhythm. Soon the motion became faster, stronger, more frantic. And while this occurred, the pressure inside her built up, up, up. Reaching its peak, she let loose a desperate cry just as the tension left her in one explosive burst.

  As if taking her cue, he thrust his hips one last time before releasing his seed. He rolled over to his side, taking her along with him. Adjusting her head so she rested on his shoulder, he then wrapped a heavy arm around her waist. As she lay pressed against his hard length, she heard the steady, solid beating of his heart. A languid feeling washed over her. She allowed herself to snuggle into his embrace and revel in his warmth and safety. She had met Griogair not too long ago, yet it felt as if she had known him for a lifetime.

  A strong gust of wind blew at the branches of a nearby tree. The golden leaves broke off and fluttered to the ground.

  Was this how love felt?

  Chapter 19

  Griogair paused in his writing to peer down at Sileas’ sleeping form. Unable to help it, he winced as regret began to surface once more. His eyes dropped back down to his task. When she discovered the missive, she would undoubtedly be upset. But there was no helping it.

  Suppressing a sigh, he wrote his signature and folded the sheepskin in half. Making his way to his horse, he put away his writing equipment. Next, he turned to Sileas’ mount and slipped the letter into the leather pouch that hung on the side of the animal.

  When he got back to the sleeping area, he found Sileas curled up into a ball. A corner of his lip curved up. The unrestrained passion that they shared last night was unbelievable. The lass had no experience in love making, yet she was a quick study, giving him what he gave to her in equal measure. He didn’t know how it was possible, but within a short time span, he had grown to care for her. It appeared that the longer that he was with her, the more he wanted to be with her. Even stranger, he desired to wake up every morning with her at his side. His former resistance to marriage was gone, and the idea of a half-dozen bairns hanging onto his kilt suddenly appealed to him. He had never experienced anything like this before. What was happening to him?

  ***

  “Wake up, lass,” he said.

  Sileas sat up abruptly at the sound of Griogair’s deep voice.

  “Is something wrong?” She slowly examined her surroundings. The grey light was just starting to peek through the tree coverings, but nothing seemed out of place.

  “I think I heard something.”

  “Ye did?” Her eyebrows shot up in alarm. In the night sound carried but she didn’t hear a thing. This was disturbing since usually the slightest noise woke her up. Ever since she was young she had trained herself to be a light sleeper, since there was always a threat from the reivers. When raids came, her clansmen rushed to the front of the barmkin wall in order to protect the clan. Everyone else barricaded themselves in the peel tower until the marauders either left or were butchered. But she was in the forest now, she reminded herself. There was nothing here to loot. “What did ye hear?”

  “I’m nae certain. But ‘tis best that we be cautious,” he said. “I want ye tae ride ahead and warn your kin. The raiders might have spied us, and are tracking us down.” His mouth set into a grim line as he walked over to their horses. Untying the beasts, he brought them over to where she stood. “I’ll circle back and see if I can catch them unawares. If I can distract them long enough, ye will have more time tae alert your people.”

  She peered into the shadowy landscape but saw no activity. “All right,” she said, mounting her horse. “I dinnae think I heard anything, but I’ll trust your judgment on this.”

  She set her ride along the intended path while Griogair went the other direction. But as she moved, an unsettling feeling churned at the pit of her stomach, a feeling that she couldn’t shake. Something wasn’t right. She was certain that if there was a noise, she would have heard it. Also, there was something different about Griogair this morning. She couldn’t determine what it was that unnerved her. All that she knew was that he seemed in a hurry to get rid of her. Perhaps Griogair told the truth, another part of her argued. It was likely that he had gone to confront the troublesome pillagers. This would be typical of him since he seemed to have a genuine concern for her clan. But if he was going to fight the bandits, then of course she couldn’t let him do it alone. If he died because of his heroic deed, then she would feel remorse for the rest of her life.

  Following the urgings in her head, she spun her horse around to ride after Griogair. He hadn’t traveled too far, and she could see him in the distance. But something stopped her from calling out to him. While she wanted to believe that he had good intentions toward her and her people, she couldn’t fight back her growing sense of trepidation. She was almost certain that he knew more than he let on.

  A few moments later, he veered abruptly off the track and headed straight toward the rise. If he crossed over the grassy mound, he would enter into the woods that grew on the other side. She recalled that according to Griogair, the raiders would set up their trap somewhere along the forested area. Keeping her distance, she managed to follow him over the crest of the hill. As she entered into the wooded hillside, she discovered that the tree growth wasn’t as substantial as it was near her home. Still, there was enough tree coverage for the criminals to set up a surprise attack.

  Griogair continued to move purposely through the forest, and led his horse toward the outskirts of the woods. After a few minutes he slowed down and entered into a small clearing.

  “Ye stay here,” she said softly to her nag. She slipped off her horse and then tied the reins on a tree trunk. Then moving toward the shrubs in front of her, she crouched down to see what was happening.

  “This disnae look like ye are trying tae delay the invaders,” she muttered under her breath.

  Her gaze narrowed at Griogair as she observed him approaching a group of men in kilts. The Highlanders didn’t appear to be surprised to find him in their midst. When Griogair began to speak to a tall, lanky man, there was an odd familiarity to their interaction. She narrowed her eyes. What dealings did Griogair have with these criminals?

  “Sae ye decided tae join us,” the leader said, his voice reaching her ears.

  Griogair replied, but his tone was low, and she couldn’t make out what he said. Nevertheless her heart stopped beating because she realized one truth: Griogair was a part of this delinquent gang. Her mind raced to the time that she found him on the ground. The invaders had knocked him off his horse, he had told her. At the time she had been so concerned about his welfare that she didn’t question his explanation. She squeezed her eyes shut. It was obvious now that he had staged his fall so that she wouldn’t know
of his involvement with the raiders. How could she have been so blind?

  Discovering Griogair’s deception made her want to vomit. All this time she had thought he was sympathetic to her clan’s plight. She even thought he cared about what happened to her people. But all along he schemed to hurt them. She had fallen for his trickery, but worse of all, she had made love to him, a liar. That realization brought bile to her throat. She had seen enough, and started to go back to her mount, but then the leader’s words stopped her.

  “’Tis that lassie that ye are concerned about, isnae?” the man mocked.

  She paused. Clearly he was talking about her. But what was the purpose?

  “Dinnae speak of the lass, Niall,” Griogair said, his voice flat. “She means nothing tae me.”

  His words felt like a bucket of ice water over her head. She was nothing to him. That also meant that the night they shared held no meaning for him either. That awareness left her feeling shocked and empty. But then her temper rose to the fore. Still, she realized that much of her rage was directed at herself. She clenched her hands into fists, allowing her nails to dig into her palms. How could she have been so stupid? She had given herself completely and willingly to him last night. She had dropped her guard for once, and allowed herself to love him. But it was all for naught. She was a deluded idiot, and his words confirmed this fact. Her throat constricted. It was better that she had never met Griogair, or even considered the idea of love. Love was clearly for fools.

  But then Griogair’s next words sliced through her thoughts. “I dinnae think that we shouldnae strike right away,” he said.

  “Nay, we’ll strike when I say sae,” the leader said impatiently.

  Her head began to spin as she took in this new information. Not only did Griogair betray her, but he also had planned to harm her clansmen from the beginning. A sharp pain twisted in her chest, and then a surge of loathing filled her entire body. These criminals were set to ambush her kin, but there was no way that she would allow this to happen. If she could get to her clansmen before the bandits did, then she would thwart their plan. Her father would then determine whether he would exterminate them. Whatever happened, they would get what they deserved. She jerked back from her hiding spot, and gave into her impulse to put distance between her and the miscreants. In her vexed state, she moved too quickly, and a thorny bush snagged her cloak. She gave the branch an impatient tug, causing the leaves to rustle. But in the silence of the morning, that noise sounded as loud as a gale blowing at a tree. She cursed silently and peered through the bushes to see if anyone noticed the noise. Unfortunately when she looked, she discovered that her worst fears had come true.

  Griogair was staring at her hiding spot, his eyes narrowed as if he could see through the branches. She held her breath. Of course he couldn’t see her, she assured herself. No one could see through thick bushes. Perhaps he would ignore the sound, and think that it was a small critter foraging in the undergrowth. But even as she told herself this, she knew that the idea was unlikely. The first blush of dawn was beginning to appear in the sky. Any nocturnal critter would have sought its bed long ago. But she had to get out of here. If she tarried, she would be found out. Griogair started walking toward her, and she discovered that she no longer had any choice but to run.

  But she was saved when a scout rushed into the camp. “They’re here,” he said, holding his chest and panting.

  The rest of the men got up, watching the newcomer in shock. “They arenae supposed tae arrive until this afternoon,” one Highlander said.

  “I dinnae care when they arrive. Just get into position!” Niall said through clenched teeth. While he didn’t yell his command, his order shot out like a whip. The troop set into motion, and scattered to reach their mounts.

  It was that moment that she took her opportunity. Jumping out from her hiding spot, she ran for her own steed. They knew that her father and his men would return in the afternoon. Somehow her kin managed to arrive earlier than planned. With her lungs burning and about to burst, she crashed through the forest to where her ride awaited. Quickly untying her mount, she scrambled onto the nag and took off. She needed to get to her kin before the raiders did.

  “Sileas,” Griogair bellowed after her. “Wait!”

  But she ignored his shout.

  Glancing quickly behind her, she saw that he was on his stallion and gaining on her. Bending low on her own horse, she let out a shout, urging her nag to a gallop.

  A few minutes later, she could see the familiar formation of her kinsmen and their horses. When she was within earshot, she yelled, “Da!”

  Stopping her steed in front of her clansmen, her breath came out in rasping spurts. They were still in immediate danger, and she needed to issue her warning.

  “Sileas,” her father said, surprise in his voice. He held up a hand to stop his men. “What are ye doing here?” His eyes then slid past her, and he then saw Griogair coming up from the rear. “What’s going on?”

  “There’s an ambush,” she said, taking in a huge gulp of air. “These men — they’re set tae pounce on ye!”

  His brows shot up at hearing her declaration. His face turned stony, and his regard zeroed in on Griogair. “Is my daughter telling the truth?” he demanded.

  Before Griogair had a chance to respond, the rest of the Highlanders joined him. They halted their mounts, and formed a line facing her kin.

  “The truth is ye harbor a murderer,” Niall said.

  “Och?” her father said, his expression suspicious. One of his men moved forward, his backsword already unsheathed. But her sire put his hand in the air, stopping his movements. “What proof do ye have of this accusation?”

  “My brother was terminated, and thirty of our horses were stolen on your property,” Niall said. He craned his neck to look at her clansmen. “The bastard who did it hides among ye. Where’s that scar-faced snake? Hand him over. If ye dinnae, I’ll kill each and every one of ye.”

  Chapter 20

  “We’re nae that easy tae kill,” Fearghus Ellison said, the sun glinting off his steel bonnet. The chief was dressed in a brown leather jack of plait. While he appeared relaxed, there was a hardness and ruthlessness that enveloped him. He casually held the reins with one hand while his other hand moved to grip the ash lance that was at his side. The weapon appeared long and menacing, and it seemed that at any moment, he might release it from its resting place.

  It was a well known fact that reivers snubbed authority, and belonged to no one except their own. It was also clear that the Ellison was the one who enforced his own brutal code of conduct, and he expected all of his loyal clansmen to follow him. Some of the reivers carried bows and arrows while others brandished their shortswords. Every single one of them appeared as if they knew how to use their weapons with lethal competence.

  The odds were stacked against Nail and his men since they were seriously and irrevocably outnumbered. But even though this was obvious to Griogair, his foster brother seemed unaware of his disadvantage. Grief and rage had blinded him for too long, it seemed.

  Griogair’s eyes shifted, taking in Niall’s followers, and noting that they were as young and green as their leader. If anything Griogair was the most experienced warrior among them. But even so, he would have a devil of a time fending the reivers off all at once. Likely he would be too busy defending himself, and he wouldn’t be able to protect his foster brother. The notion of bringing Niall’s dead body home to Alasdar unsettled him.

  “I said tae hand the killer over tae me,” Niall said, his tone frigid. He withdrew his claymore and pointed it to the group of men in front of him. “I ken that the ugly scoundrel is among ye. His hair is the color of iron rust, and half of his face is either burned or carved by a blade —”

  Fearghus gestured to one of his men, and the Lowlander dragged a bedraggled prisoner forward.

  “Do ye mean this Gedyn swine?” he said, jerking a thumb at the disfigured man whose hands were tied behind his back.
/>   Murdo Gedyn fell to his knees.

  “I have come across this rogue before,” Griogair said, surprise in his voice. “He accosted me when I made my way tae the market town.”

  “I have nay idea what ye are talking about,” Murdo said, staggering to his feet. His face was pale and the scars on his face stood out.

  Niall stared at the captive. Slipping off his horse, he walked around the prisoner, scrutinizing every inch of him. “Aye, ‘tis him.” With that conclusion stated, he curled his hand into a fist, and rammed it into the prisoner’s gut. “This is the man I saw — the one who executed my brother.”

  “Take him,” Fearghus said, flicking his hand in the air. “We found him roaming in the moors. I had plans tae ransom him tae Clan Gedyne, but it appears that ye have better use for him.”

  “Nay! Dinnae let him take me!” Murdo cried.

  Niall gestured for his men to take the captive. Two Highlanders dismounted and dragged the screaming man away. As his foster brother started to pass Griogair, he glanced at him. “Are ye coming with us?”

  “Go ahead,” he said, “I’ll catch up with ye later.”

  “Wait, Sileas,” Griogair said, sidling his horse up to hers.

  She paused, her heart beating loudly as she took in the sound of his deep voice. When the disagreement ended, she had wanted to fling her arms around him. The tension had been so impenetrable that it was almost certain that bloodshed would occur. Yet it didn’t. And now that the exhilaration had settled, she remembered his lies.

  Lyall, one of her clansmen saw her hesitation. “Sileas?” he said, concern in his voice.

  All she had to do was tell her clansmen to draw his sword, and he would immediately force her lover away. She bit down on her lower lip. Was this what she wanted?

  “Everything is fine, Lyall.” She shook her head, although she knew that her voice trembled.

  “We’ll wait for ye.” The Lowlander frowned at Griogair and looked as if he wanted to say more. Instead, he spun his steed around and joined with her father and his men.