"Nay!" he growled. "Give me your bow and arrows." He could stop Haldane from a distance with those. And he damned well intended to slaughter him.
"I'll carry them. Where are you going?"
"Haldane got Lady Jessie! I'm going to kill the bastard." If Haldane killed her… God, he couldn't think of it. He had to get her back. Sheathing his sword, he gritted his teeth and took off running across the upper part of the beach, toward the sand dunes where Haldane had disappeared with Jessie over his shoulder. Considering the pain slicing through Torrin, 'twas more like he limped forward. Still, he moved as fast as he could.
"You're bleeding badly, m'laird!" Sim chased after him.
"Do you think I care?"
"We'll find her. Struan! Luag!" he yelled back to the other MacLeods. "Come!"
Moments later, Iain was running alongside Torrin. "Saints, man! Where are you going? You've lost a lot of blood. We must get you inside the gates!"
"Haldane ran off with Lady Jessie. We're going to get her back," he ground out, trying to ignore the pain lashing through him with every step and the blackness teasing the edges of his vision.
"I'll go. Let them take you back," Iain said.
"Nay! I'm going to kill that whoreson myself." If he didn't pass out first. Saints, he couldn't. He had to save Jessie. If she died, he didn't want to live.
"Hang on, Chief." Struan got under one of Torrin's arms, and Luag the other. They practically carried him through the massive sand dunes as they moved overland.
"Follow the tracks," he said, his vision blacking out for a moment. Nay, he had to stay awake for Jessie. Her damnable brother was a monster and he'd kill her with not a care in the world.
Torrin grew dizzy, and it appeared the sand was turning to grass. Indeed it was.
"There they are," Sim said, pointing with his bow.
In the fading light of sunset that glowed beneath the rose-colored clouds, Jessie's hair was a bright red flag against the green beach grasses as Haldane ran with her over his shoulder. Torrin loved her fiery hair. And he loved the way she pounded her fists against her despicable brother's back. Thank the saints she was still alive and fighting.
"We must catch them," he said through clenched teeth, willing the pain away. He still had time to rescue her.
"Why the devil is he bringing her out here?" Iain asked.
Torrin shook his head hard, trying to think more clearly and keep himself alert. His gaze scanning the undulating landscape leading out to the rugged headland, he figured it out. "Damnation! He's taking her toward the cliffs. When Dirk was a lad, he was almost killed out here when McMurdo shoved him down a cliff."
And McMurdo was with Haldane now, his gray hair and beard resembling dirty wool in the waning light. His clothes were bloody, for Torrin had gotten in a few good strikes before the coward had fled. The archer, Gil, accompanied them.
"I'll kill every last one of them," Torrin swore through his teeth.
"I'll help you," Iain said.
They were all winded when they neared a jagged ravine that cut deep into the headland, high above the sea. His men released him and he forced himself to stand, his knees threatening to buckle. Cold sweat drenched Torrin's clothes, and his side burned like the fires of hell where McMurdo had stabbed him and MacBain had gotten in a deep slice. The two must have missed the vital organs, thank the saints, or else Torrin would be passed out or dead by now.
"We have to get to them on the other side of the ravine," Torrin said.
"Stop right there!" Haldane ordered.
On the opposite side of the deadly narrow gorge, fifty feet away, Gil nocked an arrow and aimed at Torrin. Haldane lowered Jessie to her feet, then stood behind her and held a dagger to her throat. Her skin was deathly pale when her eyes met his. His chest tightened painfully, for he'd not felt such excruciating fear since he'd found his severely injured sister eight years ago in that dark wood.
"Don't move, MacLeod! And keep your men where they are!" Haldane yelled to be heard over the ocean wind. "If anyone comes around this ravine, you'll find your lady on the rocks below."
Torrin glanced around, seeing that Iain stood close behind him but to his left, and Sim kept his bow hidden behind his back and leg.
"What do you want?" Torrin demanded, trying desperately to think clearly. He needed a plan, but everything was going fuzzy.
"We'll have to wait until that Dirk imposter shows up, won't we?" Haldane asked.
What the devil? Torrin frowned.
"He must be wanting to trade her for Dirk," Iain muttered.
"Does Dirk know you're out here?" Torrin yelled.
"Aye. He saw." Haldane grinned.
Rage burned through Torrin that Haldane would find this amusing. "You harm one hair on her head and you're a dead man, Dirk or no Dirk."
"Don't threaten me, MacLeod! I have what you want. You can kiss my arse." Haldane moved Jessie even closer to the edge of the cliff, only a foot remained between her and the drop-off. Waves crashed onto the rocks two hundred feet below.
Blackness and oblivion teasing at the edge of Torrin's vision again, he wavered, but prayed he wouldn't pass out before he could get Jessie safely out of Haldane's clutches.
"If I pass out…" he said to Iain, "or die, promise me you'll rescue her."
"Of course, man. But you're not going to die."
"I hope you're right." Torrin gauged the mad look in Haldane's eyes. Then he turned and glanced behind them, not seeing Dirk or anyone approaching from the dunes. He had his doubts that Dirk even knew they were out here.
A scream sounded, drawing Torrin back around in alarm. Loose dirt and stones slid from beneath Jessie's feet and dropped into the abyss.
"Pull her back from the edge!" Torrin yelled.
Haldane grinned and appeared to be chuckling. God's teeth! He truly was a madman. Torrin itched to end the bastard's life.
Haldane held Jessie by one arm, while she grasped both hands onto Haldane's plaid as her feet scrambled for purchase on the crumbling edge.
"Pull her back, you bastard!" Torrin ordered, his heart thudding in his ears so loudly he could hardly hear anything else.
Haldane shook his head slowly, looking mightily entertained.
Placing his hands behind his back, Torrin motioned with his fingers. "Give me your bow," he murmured low to Sim, hoping he was close enough to hear above the wind.
Moments later, the smooth yew wood slipped into his hand, along with an arrow.
"You, there! Stand back where I can see you!" Haldane shouted.
Keeping the bow hidden behind him, Torrin glanced aside and noticed Sim had moved back and to his right.
McMurdo murmured something to Haldane, who looked frantic for a moment as his gaze darted back and forth over Torrin and his men. "Put the bow down, MacLeod!" he ordered.
"Pull Jessie back from the edge and release her, and I will." With no further need to hide the weapons, Torrin held the bow in one hand and the arrow in the other, down at his sides. He could nock the arrow and let it fly in a second if he had to.
The coward kept Jessie in front of him, like a shield, less than a foot from the ravine. If only she was a safe distance back, he'd skewer Haldane with an arrow.
Jessie slowly lifted her right leg toward her hand, dug beneath her skirt, and took something from her calf. A knife. Nay! 'Twas too dangerous. What the devil was she planning?
Torrin's hands clutched the bow and arrow tightly. He had to be ready to shoot quickly.
Jessie carefully moved the sgian dubh into position, then stabbed backward into Haldane's belly. He howled and shoved her to the ground beside him. Torrin swiftly nocked and released the arrow. It shot across the ravine and jabbed into Haldane's throat. He gasped and tried to pull it out while blood spurted from the wound.
Jessie attempted to crawl away from him and the cliff's edge, but Gil kicked at her, blocking her path.
"Bastard," Torrin growled. "Give me another arrow, Sim!"
In a tric
e, he had one in hand and nocked. He let it fly toward Gil, but the lad dove to the ground at the last second, and it missed.
"Damnation! Another," he demanded.
He shot this arrow at Haldane, hitting him in the side, hoping he'd die before he could harm Jessie.
Haldane dropped to his knees at the edge of the drop-off, his bloody hands grabbing onto Jessie's skirts. She kicked at him as he started sliding off the cliff.
"Turn her loose!" Torrin yelled, his heart seizing and dizziness crashing in on him again. He couldn't get around the deep ravine in time to pull her back. Sim and Luag took off at a sprint in that direction.
Jessie slid down the cliff face onto a lower rock that jutted out. Using the knife, she cut at her skirts. The material ripped off under Haldane's weight and he fell. She dropped her knife and grabbed onto the rock with both hands, most of her body dangling over the edge.
"Help her back up!" Torrin ordered the two men left standing, McMurdo armed with a sword and targe, Gil with a bow and arrows.
Gil launched an arrow in their direction, and Torrin leapt out of the way. It drove into the ground a foot from him. Gil took off at a fast sprint away from them.
"What the hell is going on out here?" a deep voice yelled behind them.
Torrin turned to find Dirk approaching, limping, a sword in his hand, his red hair windblown, his blue eyes wild and his clothes bloody. Several men accompanied him.
"Tell that bastard to help her back up!" Torrin said, hanging onto consciousness by a thread. Iain grasped Torrin's shoulder. Had he swayed?
Dirk stepped forward, eying Jessie clutching the rocky outcropping with both hands. "Pull her up, McMurdo!"
"Promise me, upon your life and your wife's life," McMurdo said, "that you will give me the tomb in the church your father promised me, and I will."
"Aye. Of course! The tomb in the church is yours!" Dirk yelled. "And I'll be glad to put you in it," he growled low.
Hurry, you bastard! Torrin wanted to shout. The lower half of Jessie's body was dangling off the cliff.
"And you'll all let me go free," McMurdo said.
"Aye. You can go free," Dirk said. "Just help her up now or you'll be a dead man buried at sea!"
McMurdo reached a hand down. Clinging to the cliff with one hand, Jessie reached up and grabbed onto McMurdo's hand. He hauled her up to solid ground, then took off, running like a scalded rat.
Torrin, Dirk, and Iain hastened to circumvent the deep ravine and get to Jessie. Torrin glanced across to find her crawling away from the edge of the cliff. Sim and Luag finally reached her and helped her to a safer area. "Thank the saints," Torrin whispered, so much relief flowing through him, the pain vanished for a second.
"Where's Haldane?" Dirk asked, breathing hard.
"Dead," Iain said. "Fell off the cliff with an arrow in his throat."
"In truth?" Dirk glanced at the bow Torrin carried. "You shot him, MacLeod?"
"Aye." All he could focus on was seeing Jessie. Holding her. 'Twas all he cared about. By the time he limped to her, minutes later, he was out of breath and lightheaded, his vision blurring, the pain nigh overwhelming.
His men had helped Jessie move several yards away from the sea cliff's rim where she sat upon the grass. Torrin dropped to his knees beside her and pulled her into his arms. She would never know how precious she was to him.
"Thank God. I feared I'd lost you, Jessie."
Torrin felt himself falling and all went black.
***
"Retreat!" MacBain called out to his men. Damnation, they had lost at least eight men. But Haldane and his gang had disappeared, leaving the MacBains to fight the MacKays. The force that had just arrived by galley, along with the men from inside the castle walls, had combined to outnumber them. 'Twas a losing battle, and he couldn't allow more of his men to be slaughtered.
On foot, he and his clan scrambled up the hill and crossed the top. "Are they following?" he shouted back, gasping for breath.
"Nay, they're all headed in the opposite direction."
MacBain paused on top of the grassy hill and squinted, scanning the rocky headland in the distance where all the MacKays were running. Something was going on at the cliff's edge, but 'twas so far, he couldn't see who was involved.
Clearly, joining forces with Haldane MacKay had been a mistake. The lad had let on like he commanded a large faction of men who were scattered about. But he'd only had a few, mayhap half a dozen. Given the strength of the MacKay clan and how they fought for their chief, Dirk, they would never back Haldane as chief, anyway. 'Twas a lost cause.
MacBain had injured Torrin MacLeod in that sword dual, but he hadn't been able to kill him before his sword-bearer had engaged MacBain in a fight and driven him back. He'd had to retreat to save his own skin, but he'd escaped the bastard without much injury.
"Grab the horses and let's get out of here!" he ordered. "You two stay here, well hidden." He pointed to two of his stealthiest men. "Watch the castle, or find one of Haldane's men—if any of them survived—and see if Torrin MacLeod is alive or dead. Once you know for certain, head south. We'll wait for you just outside of Scourie."
"Aye, m'laird," they both murmured.
"We're headed to Scourie?" his sword-bearer asked.
"Aye. And if MacLeod lives, we go toward Munrick."
Moments later, they led the horses from the low-lying thicket where they'd hidden them earlier and mounted.
"What's your plan?" his sword-bearer asked.
"If MacLeod survives, he will head for home eventually. We'll be waiting for him just north of his keep. He only had seven men with him, if you recall. And if Iain Stewart accompanies him, that will be five more, if they all survived the battle. We'll have them outnumbered. And if he brings Lady Jessie home with him, as his new bride, we'll kill the bastard and then grab her."
They took off, riding as if the devil were on their tails.
Aye, his plan was brilliant. He no longer cared about her dowry. 'Twas now about pride and revenge. No one got the best of Gregor MacBain.
***
"He still lives," Iain said, kneeling on the other side of Torrin, passed out on the grass.
"Thank the saints," Jessie whispered, the cooler air of gloaming and the harsh wind blasting the headland giving her a shiver. When Torrin had dropped to the ground beside her, she'd feared he was dead. He'd lost so much blood, his skin was pale. But thankfully, he still breathed.
They both rose and stood aside as three of Torrin's men moved in and hoisted him up onto their shoulders, then carried him toward the dunes leading to the castle. Iain followed them.
"Are you well, sister?" Dirk asked, limping toward her.
"Aye, are you hurt?" She glanced down at his leg, seeing no fresh injury below the bottom of his plaid.
"'Tis my calf, still healing from where Gil shot me with an arrow several weeks ago." Dirk shook his head. "When I saw you hanging off that cliff—" Fear sharpened his gaze. "I remember what 'tis like."
She nodded. But, thirteen years ago, Dirk had hung off the side of a cliff all night. She couldn't imagine the prolonged terror he must have felt. "Aye, I'm well. Thanks to McMurdo." Who would've ever imagined the murderer saving anyone's life? "But we must get MacLeod back to the keep and the healer," she said, still feeling jittery and weak from having almost fallen to her death.
"Indeed," her older brother said. "Let's go," he called out to the MacKays.
Torrin's men carried him quickly, ahead of everyone else.
Please, God, keep him alive.
Dirk walked over and stood at the edge of the ravine, staring down toward the rocks and the sea where their youngest brother had met his death. A flash of grief cut through her, for no matter Haldane's crimes—and even though he would've killed her with no qualms—he had once been her wee brother. She knew Dirk felt the loss of one of their own, too.
She rushed to catch up to Torrin's men, transporting him through the sand dunes. The rest of the MacK
ays and Dirk's friends followed.
A quarter hour later, they entered Dunnakeil. The men carried Torrin to his chamber, while Jessie dashed to Erskine's room to get Nannag, but she wasn't there.
"Where is Nannag?" Jessie asked Flora, one of the healers-in-training who watched over the sleeping sword-bearer.
"In Lady Isobel's chamber."
Fear flashed through Jessie. "Why? Is she hurt?"
"She fainted while she was watching the battle and hit her head. She feared Chief Dirk had been hurt or killed."
"Saints." Jessie ran toward the laird's chamber, praying Isobel was not injured too badly. In the corridor, she found Nannag and her two helpers.
"Please go to Laird MacLeod's chamber. He is severely injured and has lost a lot of blood."
"Aye, m'lady," the ancient healer said. Carrying her medicine satchel filled with herbs and no telling what else, she and her two younger helpers quickened their pace.
While Jessie wanted to go with them immediately, she also needed to check on Isobel.
Upon bypassing the guard and entering the room, she found Isobel sitting before the hearth, Seona beside her.
"Were you injured badly?" Jessie asked.
"Where is Dirk?" Isobel demanded, leaping to her feet and rushing forward, her eyes red.
"He was right behind me. He is well."
"Oh, thank the saints," Isobel whispered, pressing a hand to her chest and looking much relieved. "I saw him fall. After the guard brought me to my chamber, he wouldn't allow me to leave."
"And Keegan?" Seona asked, standing beside Isobel.
"Thankfully, he was unhurt, too. But Torrin was badly injured. He's out cold and has lost a lot of blood."
"Och, nay! I am sorry," Isobel said. "And here I have held you up."
"I wanted to see that you were well. I'll be in Torrin's room," Jessie said, dashing out the door.
When Jessie entered the crowded room, Torrin growled, his eyes closed, his teeth clenched in pain. Thank the saints he had awakened.
"Everyone out," Nannag ordered Torrin's men, and Iain. How could such a strong and commanding voice come from such an aged and tiny woman? The men obediently filed out, but when Nannag found Jessie still standing by the door, she said in a gentler tone, "You too, m'lady."
My Notorious Highlander (Highland Adventure 5) Page 19