Courage of a Highlander

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Courage of a Highlander Page 17

by Katy Baker


  “We dinna have much choice, lad,” Jaimie replied. “There’s nay other way to go. It’s either take this path or turn around and retrace our steps around the valley. That will take all day.”

  “We havenae ridden all this way for naught,” Angus added from behind. “If we leave now, these bastards will attack again. We have to finish it.”

  There were rumbles of agreement but still Aiden hesitated. His instincts, honed from years of fighting for his life against impossible odds, were screaming at him that something was wrong.

  He pulled a breath, trying to calm his doubts. It’s just what Kara said, he told himself. Ye are on edge because of her warning, that’s all. And Angus is right. We need to finish this.

  He nodded tightly. “Stay alert. Eyes wide and weapons drawn. Angus, Jamie, take point. Roald, Sean, Grant, form a rearguard. The rest of ye follow me, those with horse bows, have them ready.”

  With that they moved off down the trail, Aiden in the lead, Jamie and Angus off in the trees to either side, the rest of his men spread out behind. To begin with the ground was relatively open, free from underbrush and they were able to move in formation but the trees soon closed in, thick bushes appearing to either side and they were forced together, their lines of sight reduced to only a few meters.

  A shiver walked down Aiden’s spine, a sudden sense of danger. He held up his hand and everyone went still. They stood in a small clearing, surrounded on all sides by trees and thick vegetation. Ahead of them the trail disappeared into the shadow between two holly bushes. A thick carpet of moss blanketed the ground and the trunks of the trees, deadening all sound. And then Aiden realized what had been bothering him. It was silent. Too silent.

  “Ambush!” he yelled, wheeling his mount just as ten, twenty, thirty figures, materialized from the underbrush, each bearing wicked-looking weapons. Aiden pulled his mount around in a circle but it was no good.

  They were surrounded.

  ***

  Fire burned deep within Kara’s belly. It felt as though liquid flames surged through her veins, making it almost impossible to think straight. She had to get to Aiden. She had to.

  Around her, the men of Dun Arnwick rode in grim silence, expressions stern, hands never far from their weapons. Laird Andrew rode at Kara’s side, his eyes set on the road ahead. Bhradain rode on her other side, his expression thunderous. He’d not approved of them coming on this mission but once the laird had made up his mind he’d insisted on coming along. He kept glancing at Kara and she didn’t like the look in his eyes. It looked like he was appraising her, as if trying to work out exactly what he was looking at.

  Kara pushed all such concerns from her mind. Nothing mattered but reaching Aiden. Nothing. Not once did she stop to consider whether her hunch was correct, nor where her certainty came from. She knew. That was all.

  They were cantering along a broad, well-trodden road that wound through the interior of the island. Andrew’s intelligence had suggested the brigands had left the coast and had used one of the rivers to make their way inland, hoping to throw off the trail of Andrew’s patrols that rode the coastal roads and had made camp in a narrow valley. Although they were moving as fast as the muddy terrain would allow, this wasn’t fast enough for Kara. Every moment they delayed put Aiden in greater danger.

  They reached a cross roads and Andrew called a halt. He looked around, studying each road in turn. Kara didn’t hesitate. She pulled her mare on the eastern path and continued riding. Behind her, she heard Andrew curse and then spur his horse to catch up with her.

  “What are ye doing?” he demanded. “We need to check the map. I canna be sure this is the road they’ve taken.”

  “I’m sure,” Kara replied without slowing. “This is the right way. Follow me.”

  The fire in her belly tugged her, pulling her ever onward. Andrew swore loudly then barked orders to his men. In moments they’d fanned out on either side of her, keeping pace but letting her lead. They soon found themselves riding into a river valley. The road they followed hugged the upper slopes of the valley but they soon found their way blocked by a landslide. Kara pulled her horse onto a path that snaked further down the hill towards the valley bottom. The fire in her belly was increasing. She was near her goal now. So near her goal. Fear for Aiden made her reckless and she pushed the horse to ever greater speed, even though the trail was steep and muddy.

  Then she heard it.

  The unmistakable sound of fighting came from ahead: the clash of steel, the hoarse shouts of men. Around her Andrew and his warriors drew weapons but Kara set her heels to her horse and sent it springing away.

  She rounded a bend in the path and found a scene of carnage. A battle raged on the road ahead. She saw scores of strangely-dressed men engaged in fierce fighting with the men of Dun Arnwick who appeared to have been surrounded in a clearing. Aiden himself had been unhorsed and was on his feet fighting three men. They wielded axes and clubs as well as swords and hacked at Aiden with savage ferocity. He parried the blows with blinding speed, blocking one stroke and answering with a riposte that took one man across the throat, before spinning and lopping the head off another. One man got through his guard and raked a blade across Aiden’s arm. He grunted with pain, one arm going limp, before head-butting his attacker and then running him through.

  But the tide was endless. More men replaced those Aiden had dispatched.

  “Aiden!” Kara screamed.

  Andrew barked orders to his men and they rode to the aid of their kinsmen but Aiden was on the far side of the clearing, a wall of brigands between them.

  Kara threw herself from her horse and waded into the press of battle. Down here at ground level the fighting was terrifying. Everywhere she looked there were struggling bodies and flashing blades. The stench of sweat and blood filled the air.

  Some rational part of her mind was screaming that this was crazy, that she would surely be killed, but that rational part of her was drowned out by the need to reach Aiden. The fire welled up in her, burning through her veins, burning away fear and doubt, bringing with it a strange clarity. She knew what she had to do.

  Around her, time seemed to slow. A brigand moved to intercept her. He was dirty and unshaven and a leering grin split his face as he saw her—an easy target. He reached out, grimy hands grabbing, but to Kara he seemed to move in slow-motion. She ducked easily under his reach, and moved on, stepping away as another man swung a sword at snail-pace in her direction. She heard a ‘twang’ and turned to see an arrow moving towards her. It shifted so slowly through the air that she stepped out of its path and it stuck into a tree instead. Time moved like treacle dripping from a spoon. She was only yards from Aiden now. He had his back to a large boulder and was battling with a large man more richly dressed than the others.

  A she stepped into his vicinity, time caught up and the clash of fighting rolled over her once more. Aiden and the big man fought viciously, their blades clashing in a series of blows so fast she could hardly track them. They were evenly matched and the brigand was clearly a skilled swordsman. Aiden dropped to the ground, swept the other man’s legs out from under him and sent him crashing to the ground. But the man rolled, coming to his feet, swinging his blade at Aiden’s neck. Aiden caught the blade on his own and the two men strained against each other, neither able to gain the advantage.

  Then Kara heard another ‘twang’ and turned to see an arrow speeding at Aiden. He had no chance. The arrow would take him right in the back.

  With a strangled cry Kara threw herself between Aiden and the arrow, raising her hand, words streaming out of her mouth. They were Gaelic but she had no idea what they were. The arrow slowed then stopped, hanging in mid-air just inches from Kara’s outstretched palm. Then it fell to the ground with a thud.

  Aiden disengaged from the man he was fighting, spun around and ran at the boulder. He vaulted atop it then used its height advantage to leap on the brigand. The big man brought his blade up to defend himself but Aiden’s momentu
m carried his down-swing straight through the man’s defenses and into his neck. The man collapsed to his knees, clutching at the wound. Aiden swung his sword, taking the man’s head from his body.

  He spun towards Kara. “Get behind me! This isnae over yet.”

  He grabbed her arm and pushed her towards the boulder, just as another wave of men charged Aiden. The brigands fought ferociously. Aiden seemed to be their target. Three more came at him and Aiden stepped forward to meet them, short-sword held in one hand, a knife in the other.

  “Stay back!” he bellowed at the men. “Ye willnae get near her!”

  If Kara had thought he’d fought fiercely before, she was mistaken. Aiden moved so fast she barely registered his movements. He stabbed and kicked and parried and punched, his movements so smooth and economical it was almost a dance. In no time at all the three men lay dead at his feet.

  Aiden looked around for more opponents but the battle was over. Andrew and his men were finishing off the last of them and rounding up those that surrendered. Aiden dropped his weapons and spun to Kara.

  The look in his eyes almost stopped her heart. His expression was full of raw, wild fury and something else. Fear. He grabbed her arms. “What, by all that’s holy, are ye doing here? Have ye lost yer mind?”

  “Isn’t that obvious?” she said, facing down his anger with her chin raised. “I came for you.”

  “Ye could have been killed!” he bellowed. He shook her. “Do ye hear me? Ye could have been killed! And then what would I have done?”

  “Aiden, you’re hurting me,” Kara gasped.

  He released her and stepped back but his eyes lost none of their intensity. He opened his mouth to speak but Andrew strode up.

  “They’re captured or scattered,” he said to his son. “What happened here?”

  Aiden forced his attention to his father. “My thanks for riding out, Father. It was an ambush. They knew the road we were taking and lay in wait. I suspected they caused the rock fall in order to force us onto this narrower path, better suited to taking us unawares.” He looked at the Harris men gathered around him. There were plenty of wounded but seemed to be no fatalities. “As grateful as I am for miracles—what are ye doing here, Father? How did ye know about the ambush?”

  “I didnae,” Andrew replied. “It was Lady Kara that warned us. Wouldnae rest until she’d convinced me to ride out after ye and if I’d have refused I reckon she would have ridden out on her own anyway.”

  Aiden turned to look at Kara. There was a question in his eyes, one that she couldn’t answer. Her memories of the battle were becoming hazy, like dream images, but she remembered dodging through the combatants and stopping an arrow meant for Aiden. She shivered. What the hell was happening to her?

  “I would like some answers,” Andrew said. “How did they know where ye and yer men would be? How did they learn of our plans? Was it lucky happenstance or do we have a traitor among us? Bring him!”

  Two of Andrew’s men approached, dragging a struggling figure between them. He was a large boned man with wide shoulders, a shaven head and a bushy beard. A swirling tattoo covered one half of his face. As he was forced to kneel on the ground he glared up at Andrew and then spat at the laird’s feet.

  “Who are ye?” Andrew demanded. “Why have ye come to our lands?”

  The man answered in a thick accent that made him difficult to understand. “Isnae that obvious? Yer lands are fat and rich. Easy plunder.”

  Andrew stiffened. “How did ye know where my son would be? Who told ye where to wait for them? Answer me or by God, I’ll make ye wish ye’d never been born!”

  The man smiled, showing bloody teeth. He looked around the group and his eyes narrowed when they rested on Bhradain. “Well, that is quite a story.”

  Suddenly Bhradain jumped forward brandishing a knife. With a cry he plunged it into the man’s neck. The man’s eyes flew wide and he scrabbled uselessly at the blood welling from the wound. With a horrifying gurgle, the man toppled forward and lay still.

  For a heartbeat there was shocked silence in the glade then Aiden grabbed Bhradain by the tunic and pulled his face close. “Have ye lost yer mind? He was our way of gathering information! We are Harris Clan! We dinna murder prisoners!”

  “He was going to attack the laird!” Bhradain spat back. “See for yerself!”

  Andrew stepped forward and rolled the man’s body over. Sure enough, he had a small dagger, no longer than his little finger, nestled in the palm of one hand. Andrew blew out a breath, and leaned with his elbows resting on his knees. “It seems we’ll find nothing here. We shall have to look elsewhere for the answers we seek.”

  Aiden let Bhradain go but continued to glare at his foster-brother. Bhradain ignored him and instead stepped up to Andrew. “What I would like to know, my laird, is how Lady Kara knew there would be an ambush and where to come to intercept it.”

  Andrew rose to his feet. “What are ye suggesting?”

  Bhradain’s eyes fixed on Kara and she almost quailed under his cold, calculating look. “Nothing,” he said aloud. Then under his breath, so low that only Kara could hear, he added, “but I suspect much.”

  Kara wrapped her arms around herself and looked away. She suddenly felt exhausted, like a wrung-out dishcloth.

  “Burn the bodies, see to yer wounds, then mount up,” Andrew instructed. “We return to Dun Arnwick.”

  Kara took a step towards her horse and stumbled as exhaustion turned her legs to water. Aiden caught her before she could hit the ground and carried her over to his own horse who’d been retrieved by one of the other men. Without a word he lifted her into the saddle.

  In short order they’d dealt with the bodies of the brigands, had addressed the most urgent wounds of their own men, and were mounted and ready to leave. Aiden nudged his horse into a walk and Kara felt herself slumping back against him, his chest a welcome solidity in this crazy, shifting day. He didn’t speak and Kara was reluctant to break the silence. Fury still rolled off him in waves and Kara struggled to understand it. Wasn’t he pleased she’d led Andrew to them? Would he rather have faced those brigands alone?

  She couldn’t figure out what she’d done wrong and she was too exhausted to think straight. The rolling gait of the horse lulled her and she found herself dozing in the saddle. When the horse stopped suddenly she came awake with a start to see the inner bailey of Dun Arnwick around her. Beth and Lucy were hurrying down the steps, an army of healers and servants behind them.

  Aiden dropped from the saddle and Lucy enveloped her son in a fierce hug. “You’re okay?” she demanded. “You’re not hurt?”

  Aiden glanced up at Kara who still sat in the saddle. “Nay, mother. I’m nay hurt.”

  “Thank God,” Lucy breathed before moving off to greet her husband.

  Aiden held up a hand and helped Kara out of the saddle. The clamor of voices surrounded her, asking questions, relaying everything that had happened. To Kara it sounded like the clanging of a hundred discordant church bells. She wanted nothing more than to get away from that noise and find some quiet.

  “I have to get out of here,” she muttered. She pushed away from Aiden and took two steps before Aiden caught her arm, spinning her around.

  “Where are ye going, lass? My father will want a full report.”

  She shook her head. “It’ll have to wait. I need some space.”

  Aiden looked at her intently and then nodded. “Aye, mayhap ye do.” He turned to his father and they had a quick, quiet discussion, before Aiden returned to Kara’s side. He took her arm and helped her to stagger up the steps and into the keep.

  On their way through the castle Kara could feel Aiden like a glowering presence at her side but he said not a word. They reached Kara’s door without speaking. He pushed open the door to her chamber and helped her inside. She slumped gratefully onto a chair by the window.

  It was blessedly quiet here and for the first time since the battle she could finally think straight.


  “I must return to my father,” Aiden said tightly. He didn’t look at her but spun on his heel and headed for the door.

  “Is that it?” Kara asked.

  Aiden stopped in his tracks then turned to face her. “Is that what?”

  “Is that all you’re going to say?”

  A vein in his temple throbbed. “What would ye like me to say?”

  Anger shot through her. “Oh, I don’t know, Aiden! Maybe I’m glad you turned up when you did, Kara. Maybe how are you doing, Kara? Maybe I’m sorry I scared you witless today, Kara, but I’m okay so you can stop worrying now!”

  Aiden said nothing. He stared at her and she could see the shifting emotions behind his eyes. Finally he said, “Ye shouldnae have been there today.”

  “What is wrong with you?” she shouted. “You’ve barely spoken two words on the way home. Why are you annoyed with me? Because I saved your life?” She quailed suddenly as memories flooded her. Of arrows stopping in mid-air. Of time seeming to slow. Had Aiden seen that? “Or is it because of what I did in the glade? Do you think I’m a witch?”

  ***

  Aiden stared at Kara. He could hardly believe his ears. Did she really not understand? Did she really think he gave two figs about the abilities she’d demonstrated? The incident at the standing stones had told Aiden there was something different about Kara and her actions had only confirmed it. But that’s not what was bothering him. He was grateful to her for riding out to rescue him but that didn’t override the dominant emotion coursing through his veins. Anger. Or was it fear? He could no longer tell.

  “Ye think I care about such things?” he snapped. “Ye think I’m annoyed because I think ye are a witch? Give me more credit than that!”

  “Then what?” she demanded, jumping to her feet and glaring at him. “Because from where I’m standing all I did was save your life and get a whole load of agro for my troubles!” Her eyes flashed and her chin tilted defiantly.

  His restraint snapped and he grabbed her forearms. “Dinna ye understand? I’m angry because ye could have died today! Any of those men could have killed ye! A stray arrow, a sword-point in the back, Lord, even a fall from a horse would have done it. Ye could have died, Kara! And then where would I be? Dinna ye understand that it’s my duty to protect ye?”

 

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