Ella's Desire (Borderland Ladies Book 3)

by Madeline Martin

  Then she rushed out of the structure ahead of him. There was no more time for additional conversation; no time to receive his return affection. Once more she shoved aside her fears to focus on the task at hand. Although this time, it was not only the fear for Leila and Lark, but also for Bronson and even herself.

  They were going into dangerous territory, a place where they could easily be killed.

  Bronson’s footsteps swishing in the brush told her he had joined her. It was time to go rescue their sisters.

  Bronson’s mouth still tingled where Ella had kissed him. He allowed his mind to linger on it briefly, relishing the tenderness, the significance of her taking the precious moment to do it. Mayhap he had not lost her, after all. There might be a chance to reclaim the heart of the woman who had claimed his own.

  God keep them safe, indeed.

  The rain had finally ceased. And while Bronson’s garments were still damp from their earlier travels, it was a relief to not be weighed down by icy, sodden clothes anymore. But it was more than comfort that left him grateful for the clear skies. A nearly full moon shone brightly overhead, lighting the valley for them to pick through it with ease.

  The closer they got, the more intensely his thoughts focused on Lark, on Leila, on being prepared for the rescue. Ella crouched behind a bit of brush and Bronson sank down beside her while they stared out at the valley before them. Only a couple men could be seen in the distance, but the area looked remarkably empty otherwise. The scent of rich food hung in the air and suddenly he understood why the timing was ideal. The men would be preoccupied with eating their supper.

  Towers rose throughout the land, jutting up from the earth in powerful stone columns.

  “Pele towers,” Ella said quietly.

  Bronson nodded. He’d heard of them before. A tall, narrow structure with at least two levels, the first of which held livestock and horses. The upper levels were where clan members slept and lived, accessed by a ladder pulled up to keep the people within safe.

  Leila and Lark were no doubt in one now, held aloft and difficult to reach in such a fortress.

  An impossible task that would have to be made possible.

  Ella rose from her crouching position and waved for Bronson to follow as she slipped into the shadows. They moved quickly and silently, her steps confident with whatever connected her to Leila.

  Ella sucked in a breath suddenly and pushed at his chest, flattening him against the wall of the tower they were beneath. She hid herself likewise beside him.

  The timber of men’s voices sounded nearby. The indecipherable Gaelic of Scotsman. Ella narrowed her gaze, her expression focused. It had never occurred to Bronson that she might speak the foreign tongue. Footsteps sounded and carried the Scotsman away from them.

  Bronson relaxed and released his hand from the hilt of his sword. He hadn’t even realized he had reached for his weapon until then. Whatever instinct had made him do it, he was glad for it now.

  Ella glanced side to side and then sprinted across the open area to the next pele tower. Bronson did the same.

  Sounds of laughter came from within, mingled with the chatter of a multitude of conversations. This would most likely not be where the girls were kept. Ella glanced pointedly toward one particular tower not too far away. She nodded and his pulse leapt.

  They were close.

  Voices sounded nearby. Ella stiffened, but it was too late. The reivers were already rounding the corner. Quickly, Bronson pushed himself in front of her and pressed his mouth to hers with an exaggerated groan. She drew her leg up to curl around his hip, immediately catching on to what he was attempting.

  A man laughed several paces behind them. Ella gasped as though in pleasure and rolled her body against his, a perfect mimic of their shared intimacy in the past. Except while it appeared that she was enjoying being taken against a wall, her hands were moving at her waist, drawing free her dagger.

  One of the reivers said something Bronson couldn’t understand, and Ella squeezed her leg more tightly around him. “They’re coming over here,” she muttered against his lips.

  A hand clapped on Bronson’s shoulder and tugged him away from her. Three men faced him, grinning with excitement as they stared at her. The bastards.

  Ella threw a dagger into the neck of the reiver closest to him and drew up her axe. Blood poured from his wound in a great gush and he collapsed to the ground. Acting on instinct, Bronson pushed his blade into another man’s throat as Ella brought her axe down on the remaining reiver’s head. The three were dead before they could even cry out.

  Bronson’s heart raced with such force that it made his head feel too light, airy almost.

  “We have to hide them.” Ella glanced to a stack of barrels near a wall. “Shift those about. We’ll put them behind there.” She glanced around. “Hurry.”

  Bronson grabbed two of the men and dragged them with him. The barrels were light, nearly empty of whatever liquid was in them, and easily moved. The men were hidden quickly, and Ella resumed leading him through the maze of towers and toward the one that held Leila and Lark.

  They crept over the lush grass, silent and under cover of the shadows. Finally they stopped at the tower Ella had indicated previously. The lightheadedness Bronson had experienced immediately cleared and all his focus directed on the weather-darkened stone rising above them to the glow of light at the second floor. An iron-banded door blocked their way from entering.

  Ella held up her hand. Bronson froze, waiting. His pulse thundered in his temples. He wanted nothing more than to break through the damn door, to kill every man who dared to stop him, and to bring Lark and Leila to safety. Energy roared through his body and left every muscle tense and ready.

  After another glance around, Ella crouched to the ground in front of the door with a long slender pick in her hand. She paused a moment and then twisted the device about. A metallic click pinged.

  She waved as she pushed open the door and entered the tower. Bronson followed quickly, his feet sinking into thick black soil on the ground within. Light filtered down from the upper floor and shone on a room full of cows. The one nearest Bronson cast him a bored look as it worked at a bit of straw jutting from its mouth.

  Ella grabbed his arm and pulled him with her behind a stack of hay just as a reiver came out from around a column. Bronson crouched deeper in an effort to stay hidden. But even as he kept out of sight, he gazed up at the second floor, straining to make out anything that might resemble a small face peering over at them. Nothing.

  Anxiety wrestled his heart with a strangling grip. Were they in the right place? Had Ella been correct?

  An item fluttered down over the edge of the upper story, a strip of something he couldn’t quite make out. Not until it fell past his face and coiled onto the fouled ground where the cows had tread.

  A blue ribbon.

  Lark’s ribbon.

  The reiver shoved at a cow as he passed them. The animal lowed in protest, but still moved out of his way. With him facing the opposite direction, Bronson chanced the opportunity to stand slightly to get a better vantage on how to get to the second floor.

  Several arm lengths from his left was a ladder leading up. There would be no way to climb it without the reiver alerting the others.

  Which meant that he would have to die.

  27

  Ella held her breath as the reiver neared them once more. Sweat prickled at her brow, and the urgency pulling at her mind left her heart pattering at a frantic pace. They had to hurry. They were nearly out of time.

  She pulled free the dagger, her body coiled in anticipation. Before she could launch her attack, Bronson leapt from their hiding spot and punched the blade of his sword through the man’s throat, ending his life before he could make a sound.

  Ella wasted no time. She gripped her dagger between her teeth for swift access and ran to the ladder. It was rickety, its rungs worn smooth by years of use. Halfway up, her foot slipped in her haste and she clattere
d several rungs down before catching herself.

  “Hamish?” a voice asked from above.

  Damn.

  Footsteps thundered over the floorboards on the second floor as someone came to investigate. The slip had made Ella clench her teeth, which thankfully kept the dagger safely in place. She slipped it free with her hand now and waited for the reiver’s face to appear so she could throw her blade at him.

  And he did appear, but only for a blink before his face registered surprise and he pitched forward. He fell head-first and landed between two cows with a sickening crack.

  Ella replaced the dagger between her teeth and climbed. One hand, one foot, one rung, until she was nearly at the top. A high pitch scream sounded, like that of a girl. Ella pulled the dagger from her mouth and scaled up the rest of the ladder to the main floor. A man stood several yards away with Leila held in his arms, his blade pointed at her throat.

  He snarled at Ella. “If ye take one st—”

  She didn’t wait for him to finish. She sent the dagger sailing toward him. The blade sank into his eye and he staggered back, his hands going up toward his face even as his body fell in death.

  Three more reivers remained that Ella could make out, all creeping toward her. Leila grasped the hilt of the dagger from the man’s eye and yanked it free before setting herself protectively in front of Lark.

  “Are you hurt?” Ella asked her sister as she marked the approach of the men closing in on her. A reiver with white blonde hair atop his ruddy head was nearest. More than that, he was the largest, the most intimidating, especially with the mace he hefted in his right hand.

  He would need to die first.

  “We’re not harmed,” Leila said firmly.

  Ella cast a quick prayer of thanks for the girls being in good health and lunged toward the blonde-haired reiver. She did not try to aim for the center of his torso, not when he was so tall. That would be expected. Instead, she bent low and swung her axe into his knee even as his own mallet swept down at her.

  The great weapon passed her head so close that the wind created by its power blew her hair off her face. The man howled in agony as the axe sank into his leg and collapsed to the floor. Ella lifted her axe to finish the fight when someone slammed into her, knocking her to the floor. She landed with such force that her teeth clacked. But she’d been hit thus before. In practice, where she’d learned how to react even as her body reeled.

  She flipped over and kicked out as her attacker descended down upon her with his sword thrusting toward her neck. Her foot caught him square in the chest. He flew backward and a bloody sword exploded through his throat. His gave a choked cry of surprise, followed by a mortal gurgle.

  The sword pulled free and he fell to the ground. From behind him, Bronson winked at her, and then spun about to engage their final opponent. Ella leapt to her feet and found the large reiver dragging himself across the room. Toward the window.

  Not wanting to waste time running, she fell back on the ability she had spent a lifetime honing. She gripped her axe with both hands, hauled it back behind her head and sent it flying across the room. It slammed in the center of the man’s back with a solid thud. The reiver jerked and collapsed into a growing pool of blood.

  The clanging of swords rang out. Ella whipped her head around to find Bronson and the final Armstrong reiver locked in combat at the edge of the ladder opening. Both men swung their blades with equal power, their feet working back and forth as they parried.

  Ella tugged her axe free from the fallen reiver’s massive back. But before she could move to Bronson to assist with the final assailant, a hand clasped her ankle and yanked her supporting foot from beneath her. She fell with a thud onto the floor wet and warm with fresh blood.

  The blonde-haired reiver dragged her closer, smearing her through the gore, his face grinning even as he lay dying. Ella didn’t bother fighting him. If he was still moving after the hit to his back, doubtless only one side of him was mobile. She hefted her axe once more and brought it down on his skull.

  There’d be no more attacks after a blow like that. And indeed, there was not.

  Ella kicked her leg free and got to her feet.

  Bronson stood alone, his opponent sprawled halfway off the ledge with a red stain across his chest.

  Bronson’s eyes went wide. “Ella.”

  “’Tis not my blood.” She pulled free her axe from the reiver’s body one final time.

  Lark and Leila were still pressed back against the wall. Leila relaxed as Ella and Bronson approached, but Lark did not. Her small shoulders were tense, her body stiff and her eyes wide and glassy. Flecks of blood dotted her face. Most likely from the man Ella had hit in the eye with her dagger.

  “Are you both well enough to run?” Ella asked.

  Leila nodded. Lark simply stared.

  “Lark.” Bronson knelt in front of her. “I need you to look at me.”

  Her green eyes slid toward him.

  “We need to flee. Before they come back. Can you do that for me?”

  She nodded.

  Ella put her hand into Leila’s and squeezed. She didn’t voice her gratitude for the connection Leila had somehow been able to establish but knew she would not need to. Leila looked up at her, her brows furrowed with trepidation. “I’m sorry, Ella.”

  Ella shook her head. Apologies and appreciation could come later. And yet there was something in how Leila looked down at her feet, in the lingering glance she cast toward Bronson after speaking, that sent a prickle of fear down Ella’s spine.

  “You aren’t talking about this, are you?” she asked. “Leila, what—”

  “I’ll go down the ladder first.” Bronson straightened from where he’d been speaking with Lark. “If there is someone down there, I will attack them. Ella, you go last so the girls are between us.”

  Ella nodded and glanced once more at Leila, who refused to look up at her. The nip of fear grew to a gnaw. Escaping the debatable lands would be as dangerous as entering had been.

  And Ella knew it would not be as uneventful.

  Before descending the ladder, Bronson scouted the area below for reivers. No movement showed aside from the cows and no men were visible, save the two who lay dead among the trampled dirt below.

  He quickly made his way to the ground floor. Once there, he drew his sword and circled the room. After reassuring himself all was safe, he waved for the others to follow. Leila climbed with the same light dexterity as Ella, their warrior training apparent in everything they did.

  Lark, however, lowered herself with a jerky unease. Her face was too pale for his liking, her eyes too large and full of fear. Now more than ever, he regretted having chastised her for trying to learn how to protect herself. If she had known how to keep herself safe, the same as Ella and Leila, she would not be as traumatized.

  When she finally descended, he put his arm around her narrow shoulders. “You’ve done well, Lark. You’re a brave young lady and I need you to keep being brave just a little longer.”

  She looked up at him and nodded. He pulled a dagger from his boot. “Take this. If you need it, use it.”

  She closed her fingers around the hilt and held it awkwardly before her. “Thank you, Bronson. And thank you for rescuing us. I was so…so scared.” Her eyes filled with tears.

  He shook his head. “Not here. Don’t think on it now. We must be brave.”

  Leila appeared by Lark’s side and clasped their hands together. “And quiet.”

  Lark nodded.

  Bronson’s heart crushed into his ribs. Despite her obvious terror, Lark was being so strong. His precious sister, the only sibling he had in the world, the one he thought in his darkest musings he’d never see again. He resisted the urge to pull her into his arms and keep her there, so she would never be scared or threatened again. Instead, he rubbed his hand over her silky hair.

  She was alive. She was uninjured.

  And he would do everything in his power to ensure she remained that way
.

  Ella was at the door already, her head bent toward the wood as she listened intently. After a long pause, she quietly slipped the latch free and opened the door, then waved them over.

  It would be far more dangerous this time running through the valley with four of them instead of two. Especially with Lark as frightened as she was. If she startled, if she screamed, it could be the death of them all.

  “You must remain perfectly quiet,” Bronson instructed. “Even if you get scared.”

  Lark pressed her lips together hard, as though she could seal them shut. He smiled his approval, trying to keep his expression easy, to prevent her from seeing the extent of his worry. With a gentle nudge to her back, he encouraged her to walk to the door and slip out.

  Outside, the air was clean and fresh, a mind-clearing reprieve from the heavy odor of death. There were more reivers about now. None nearby, but their figures dotted the landscape in the distance. Ella led their party, moving swiftly in the shadows but more slowly through the lighted ground they crossed. Any abrupt movement, such as running, would call attention to them. Bronson followed at the rear of their small group to ensure the girls remained safely between he and Ella.

  A reiver rounded the corner of a tower suddenly. The moment he caught sight of Ella was apparent in the stiffening of his body. Bronson knew what he saw—a woman clad in a gambeson and drenched in blood.

  Before the man could move, Leila sent a dagger flashing in the moonlight with lethal speed. He fell forward, silent and dead. A quick glance around confirmed there was no way to easily hide the body. Not like there had been with the others.

  “We’ll have to think of somewhere to put him,” Ella whispered

  “Make him appear drunk.” Lark bent and retrieved the tankard the man had dropped when he fell.

  It was a simple plan, but a brilliant one. Aye, someone might check on him, but a man sleeping off his ale might also be left perfectly alone. Bronson propped the body against the wall of the tower and curled his hands around the tankard. He stood back to assess the dead reiver’s appearance.