10 Timeless Heroes; A Time Travel Romance Boxed Set
Page 109
Hell.
He yanked the last two blades from his boots and added them to the pile. Good enough. But Alan wanted more. “You say you are the next MacLeod Chieftain. I find that hard to believe. Who are you, friend?”
The man wrapped his arm around the Norman lass and put his blade across her neck. “No friend to you.”
The bairn blinked rapidly and for a split second he swore her eyes rolled back in her head before she said, “We are a means to an end. Someone is hurt.”
“Nay!” The MacLeod pulled her tighter against him and her eyes widened in fear.
“Nay,” Alan said softly, careful not to upset the man further.
“Not yet but she will be eventually and well you know it,” the lass whispered.
“I know nothing of the sort,” the MacLeod growled.
Alan crossed his arms over his chest. This man did not have the look of a Highlander. “Again I ask, who are you, stranger? You might wear the MacLeod plaid but it doesnae suit you.”
“‘Tis because he is no MacLeod, but a Broun,” she said softly.
The stranger’s eyes stayed steady on Alan, his blade still against Caitriona’s neck. Their eyes held for several long seconds, long enough for Alan to see the truth behind her words. “Are you then?” he asked.
An internal debate apparent in his cautious gaze, the man remained silent for several moments longer before he finally said, “She has the right of it then. But you will hear me out before I release her.”
He nodded. What choice was there?
“I am a good friend and ally to the MacLomain’s. With my help, they were able to defeat the MacLeod you just threw over the cliff. And because of my assistance, Adlin MacLomain ensured Caitriona would arrive here today. As it stands, without her help I willnae be able to save my lass when she needs saving.”
Alan cocked a brow. “And this is your way of asking her nicely for help?”
“With you around, aye.”
“I will give you that. Mine is not a pleasant mood.”
“Nay.” The man gave him one last long look before he said, “My name is Stephen. I am no chieftain of the MacLeod’s but a Broun clansman. ‘Tis only peace I seek this day… and help.”
So he was a lowlander and no laird at all. “I will not help a man with a knife to an innocent’s throat.”
The Broun’s eyes narrowed. “I know well who you are Alan Stewart. You too are a friend of the MacLomain’s. What can I say to convince you I mean no harm?”
“Remove the blade and step away.”
Stephen sighed. “I know you have the magi in you. Even without the blades you have the means to kill me without moving.”
“Give him your word you will not,” Caitriona said to Alan. “His is a path we must follow.”
Alan frowned. A number of thoughts occurred to him. The first, that he owed her a debt. Why he did not quite know. The other was that though Stephen had a blade to the bairn’s neck he had no intention of using it.
“I give you my word then.”
The Broun looked long at Alan before he came to some sort of internal conclusion.
In that time, so had Alan.
This man meant no real harm. His was all bluster.
When Stephen stepped away from Caitriona, Alan immediately crouched and gathered his weapons, eyes never leaving the man. “‘Twould have been easier to say who you were from the start I think.”
“Nay,” Stephen said. “You are too emotional with your friends so newly gone and the MacLeod’s your enemy. Rage is strong inside you. Would reasoning with you really have been the best first choice?”
Caitriona rubbed her neck and shook her head. “Now is not the time for talk. Danger comes closer.”
Alan sensed it as well. “Surely you have some sort of connection to this clan, Stephen. Will it make us welcome?”
“Had you asked me that question earlier today, I would have said aye. But now ‘tis unlikely. We must travel north.”
“Soon. Very soon,” Caitriona urged.
The bairn had to be given credit. For a wee little lass, she seemed to be holding up well. Why she was here when he awoke would have to be answered later. For now, he was willing to take Stephen’s word, anything to put more distance between them and MacLeod castle. Once free of this land he intended to scout a route toward his own holding in the west.
If they meant to survive, they would have to follow this madman.
Nothing more was said as Stephen led them off the cliff into the thin pine forest. Alan kept the lass in front of him and thoughts of the day behind…Caitlin…Ferchar. One moment they’d been there, the next gone. Without doubt, Adlin MacLomain had sent them through time and they were safe.
He remembered nothing after that until he awoke in Caitriona’s arms.
“‘Tis not far at all but we must move quickly,” Stephen said.
Alan was willing to scoop up the lass if need be but despite the rocky and ever steepening path, she too increased her pace. Even when they started to climb more than walk, she moved with sure foot. Ah, but the agility of youth! It was only when he pulled himself up and plunked down next to them on a ledge that Alan truly realized how treacherous a route they’d traveled.
“We are close to where we need to be.” Stephen nodded down. “They are not far behind.”
A dozen horsemen could be seen filtering below on the very cliff they’d first met. Alan ground his jaw. It was a hard thing not staying to fight. Only because of the bairn did he agree to this. What if he and Stephen were killed and the lass left to the mercy of the MacLeod’s? There could be no worse fate.
They did not watch the men below long but moved quickly up not more sheer rock but a hidden set of stairs. All that mattered as they traveled was the enemy at their back. Alan kept a hand on his blade and a keen eye on their surroundings. When they reached the top, it took a moment for him to register what was before him.
A wide swath of meadow lay where it shouldn’t. Surrounded by mountains, it was overlooked by something truly remarkable. Hundreds of feet tall stood what looked to be an odd shaped cross carved into the mountainside overlooking the ocean. In effect, it created a massive window. He and Caitriona stopped and stared as Stephen kept walking.
Only when he realized they were no longer following did Stephen turn. “You must come.” He pointed at the huge window. “That, my friends, is how we will be traveling. ‘Tis called the Highland Defiance. There are more. All are called Defiance.”
Alan shook his head. He didn’t like this. “How will we travel through that when ‘tis just a fall to the ocean below?”
“You know very well how.” Stephen nodded at the Defiance. “Magic.”
“We must go soon. No choice,” Caitriona murmured.
“There’s always a choice, lassie.” Alan frowned. “The lad’s asking us to jump off a cliff. Follow me and I’ll get us out of here safely on foot.”
“Will you then?” Stephen countered. “With the whole of the MacLeod clan after you? Unlikely.”
“Nay, I go with Stephen and so should you Laird Stewart,” Caitriona said, her dirty face desperate. “You must.”
“I must do nothing when I dinnae even ken what I am being asked.” Alan did not like the fact that all he had to fight with were daggers, even if one possessed magic. “If you two mean to travel through that then have at it. I will go my own way.”
“Nay!” Caitriona shook her head. “I didnae save you only to lose you.”
Alan raised his brows. “Save me?”
“We have no time for this. Come.” Stephen grabbed Caitriona’s arm. “If he means to stay, let him.”
A bit of fire flashed in her jaded eyes. She ripped away her arm. “I stay with Laird Stewart. He is the reason I am here.”
Alan handed her a dagger. “Then be ready to fight if we dinnae get out of this cove before they arrive.”
“Too late,” Stephen muttered. He pulled free his claymore and backed toward the Defiance.
“You are too close to the Defiance. Unless very powerful your magi is useless,” Stephen said.
“Fine then, I have weapons.” Alan made ready.
“A lot of good they will do you when faced with so many.” But Stephen did not run for the Defiance. He stayed, ready to fight. “Please, I beg you, come now and avoid any lives lost.”
“I dinnae trust a hole in the rock and an icy ocean to greet me. I see no other choice now but to stand my ground.”
The MacLeod warriors moved forward slowly, ten more appearing behind them. Alan ground his jaw and said a prayer to his gods.
“I know of the Defiance,” Caitriona said softly. “‘Tis how I got here.”
Alan narrowed his eyes. “Why say that now and not before, lass?”
“Because it didnae look anything like this,” she said, voice more sure. “But that Stephen knows of the word Defiance must mean something.”
“Must it?”
Ten more MacLeods appeared. There was no way they could fight all these warriors. It was time to choose. Stay and die or run and…die. He always did like a good fight. But better to die defending than lead others to slaughter. If the lass believed in the Defiance she should go.
“Stephen, take her and go!” He ran toward the oncoming warriors.
Her cry of outrage told him the Broun had listened. Bloodlust already boiling in his veins, Alan whipped one of his daggers at an oncoming clansman, then dove and ran another dagger across the Achilles tendon of two others. Blood coated his face but he didn’t bother wiping it away. He swiped his feet beneath two more and stabbed his blades into the thigh of two more. Energy pumping, he came to his feet and lunged at the next man, efficiently swinging the man around in time to catch two daggers thrown his way.
When a blade touched his neck, he froze.
Three more men were almost on him before they fell, including the one with a blade to his neck. He glanced sideways to see Stephen fighting alongside.
“Twenty more come,” the Broun cried. “Give this up and come.”
Credit must be given. The man believed enough in his Defiance not to have run when opportunity presented itself. Regardless, Stephen intended to persuade.
Alan stabbed a man in his gut as Stephen ran his blade through another’s heart. Even Caitriona seemed to hold her own as she thrust and caught another man in the arm. When the enemy swung her down and made to run his sword through her, Alan dug a blade into his neck.
Ten more men appeared even as they fought.
“Go,” Stephen roared in Caitriona’s direction. “Jump through the Defiance. You will find safety!”
Frustrated, Alan kicked an oncoming man and dug his blade into another. He would die here today. The bairn did not need to. As it stood, when he went down she would be raped then killed. Despite his lack of trust in the Defiance, he pulled her after him. Caitriona did not fight but followed willingly as they ran. When they reached the edge of the rock he grabbed her around the waist and swung her up.
“I will not go without you,” she said calmly despite the men running up behind them.
“Nor will I.”
When Alan turned it was to Stephen slashing down a man. When another came, he drove him back as well.
Fifteen more men poured onto the field behind the dozens rushing them already.
Furious, Alan grabbed his second blade and stood next to Stephen. “Take her. Go. Death is better than what she will face here.”
“Nay!” Caitriona cried from behind. Not because she disagreed but because a warrior had managed to sneak past them.
Alan roared in rage and jumped up. As soon as the man grabbed him, the lad’s throat was slashed. The bairn watched in horror as the man fell, blood pouring from his neck. Without thought he pulled her into his arms.
No lass should see such.
“Forgive me,” Stephen said.
There was no time to register the man’s declaration nor his actions as both were pushed harshly over the edge of the Defiance. Alan tried to grab hold of the rock’s edge but it was too late. The ocean rushed up to grab them. Thunder roared in his ears. Light flashed. Yet he never let go of Caitriona’s hand.
When they hit water it was not what he expected. Instead of a splash they thumped onto warm grass. Confused, he flailed. Her hand slipped free. Alan jumped to his feet, blade ready. The world lurched but he remained on foot.
“Nay,” Stephen murmured.
Alan swung to find the man lying on his side, Caitriona beside him.
“Where are we? What is this?”
“You are safe,” Stephen said as he sat up slowly and held his head. “And good at time travel it seems.”
Though he staggered back a step, Alan held his ground. “Why am I not dead?” He swung around and around until he fell on his arse. “Where am I?”
“Gone. Into the past.”
Alan blinked rapidly and tried to stand again only to fall over. Fisting the earth, he growled. “Where?”
“Not where you were but safe,” Stephen assured.
“Got that.” Alan shook his head and once more attempted to stand. This time his legs seemed to hold him. The world righted itself. Everything cleared. But the process was uncomfortable, the sensation terrible. He ran his hands over his face in aggravation. He looked up and down, made sure he was really there, that the sky was still above and the ground still below. “But where.”
“Where she is,” Caitriona said. “Stephen’s lass.”
“Who?”
“You are in the lowlands, lad,” Stephen offered. “On my land.”
Alan dropped to his knees and searched for his weapons only to find one remained. The one he’d pulled free from his enemy, the MacLeod. But it was the most important one. Nothing the Broun said made any sense. “Be less vague.”
Stephen stumbled to his feet. “Aye, you have come back to Scotland before the great clan war of eleven ninety-nine. Time has been skipped. In your case, the wrong direction.”
Awe hell.
Alan again thumped down on his arse, dagger in hand but loosely by his side. He sat there for several moments, still acclimating. Before he said more, he came to his feet. Best to be eye to eye with this lad. A lie could easily be told. That did not bother him much. What did bother him was an evasive answer. “I find that hard to believe.”
“Dinnae. ‘Tis true.”
“You mean to tell me I just traveled back in time eleven years? Impossible.”
“You know ‘tis not impossible.”
Alan looked around, completely unfamiliar with his surroundings. But that did not mean anything. He was a highlander and this was the lowlands.
“I will admit it surprises me that you dinnae recognize my name,” Stephen granted. “Were you not close friends with Iain MacLomain?”
Alan searched his mind while he helped Caitriona to her feet. “Aye, but I have not heard your name.”
“Is this not the year Iain vanishes? Is this not the year he was to wed a Broun lass?”
The air left his chest. Nay, it couldn’t be! In truth he’d never entirely believed the tale told. After he made sure Caitriona seemed in good standing he once more studied the Broun. “Aye, Iain is a good friend just returned with Arianna Broun…” The words died on his lips.
Stephen ran a hand through his hair. “True enough. But right now in this time they have yet to meet. He still awaits his promised bride.”
Deep in thought, Alan slowly sank to his haunches. Though he had only just reunited with Iain he knew well the infamous story of Iain MacLomain and his promised bride. For over a decade the tale had been told around many Highland campfires. After all, Arianna Broun of the lowland Broun clan had been promised to Iain MacLomain by their fathers, a bond of sorts. When Arianna arrived all thought it was her until they received wo
rd weeks later that she had yet to arrive and in fact had vanished.
So who was the woman Iain MacLomain married claiming to be Arianna Broun?
A woman from the future with the same name.
It still made his mind twist but he’d seen it for what it was and he knew Iain was truly happy. But truth told he’d given little thought as to what happened to the Arianna Broun from the lowlands that had been legitimately intended for his friend.
Until now.
“We are meant to journey with them,” Caitriona said.
Alan needed answers. He arched a brow. “You have been quite full of prophecy since we first met. Care to share?”
The lass shrugged. “I am new into my gift and you are the sort of man who will forgive such.”
Alan nearly rolled his eyes. “New into your gift? Aye. Seems that alone should give you encouragement to share all you know.”
Caitriona’s gaze seemed to flicker a bright turquoise blue before returning to an even brown. “My journey has been long and I am scared.” Her hands shook slightly as she pulled her hood over her head. “If you are here then this path is the right one.”
“Aye,” Stephen cut in before Alan could respond. “‘Twill all be as it should.”
“So you both say.” Alan shook his head. “At the very least we should find ourselves bathed and warm this eve.”
Stephen smiled. “You would think but nay. We are a day or so from my clan. We will arrive with them on the morrow.
“Of course we will,” Alan muttered under his breath.
“‘Tis been a long day. Now we rest and travel on the morn.”
Alan did not need to ask where they rested. This side of the Defiance seemed to provide all. Small and secluded they’d landed in what appeared a small field of grass surrounded by trees. A river ran nearby. It rushed as though the ocean couldn’t be that far off, or at least a waterfall. It was hard to tell in the lowlands… so bloody flat.
Stephen rolled his shoulders and walked to the nearest tree. “I have clothing to change myself and the lass.” He eyed Alan. “Not you however.”
“I will be fine.” Alan looked at Caitriona. “If he says ‘tis safe then we will take his word. Wash and change. I will find food.”