My Hunted Highlander

by Badger, Nancy Lee

  Readying his bow, he listened. The three men were still behind him, so something else headed his way. As he fitted the shaft to the bowstring, he raised his arm, keeping low to the ground. Steady, he held his breath and waited for his quarry to appear.

  “Help me! Aghhh!”

  Branches flew apart, and a small lad ran straight at him. Before Niall could ascertain why a small boy was screaming for help, the deep grunt of a wild boar bellowed from the same direction. Without further thought, Niall straightened to his full height, pulled the string back to his chin, and let the arrow fly. There was a thud, a scream, then silence.

  “Ye saved me!” Keegan’s wide-open, fear-filled eyes suddenly let loose a flood of tears. Niall’s frown softened as Keegan ran and threw his arms around him. Looping his bow over his shoulder, Niall picked up the trembling bairn, and hugged him. Their hearts pounded in their chests.

  “I canno’ believe yer shot!” Thomas cried, “and ye brought down a huge beast without harming the captain’s son!”

  All three men patted him on the back, until Thomas pulled Keegan from his grasp. “Hie yerself back to the ship, lad. Ye should no’ be in this dangerous place. The captain will tan yer hide, I swear.”

  The lad gulped, nodded, and raced toward the stairs leading down toward the beach.

  “The captain will be joy-filled for two reasons, this day,” Thomas laughed. As if on cue, the three men set to gutting the pig. Niall stepped quietly backwards, dropped his bow, and ran.

  CHAPTER 8

  At Castle Ruadh, a loud bang at their door made Jenny groan. She peeked from beneath the wool blanket as Gavin rose from bed, and tossed a long shirt over his head. He had the nerve to chuckle at her groans of protest.

  “Why are you leaving me?” Jenny asked.

  “I would love to stay abed with ye lass, but someone is at our door.”

  Curiosity made her wrap the coverlet tightly around her, like a Greek goddess’ tunic. While Gavin ran his fingers through his mussed hair, Jenny swiftly walked to the door, threw the bolt, and opened it a crack.

  “Who has disturbed us, lass?” Gavin asked, behind her.

  “A beautiful black-haired woman, with breasts nearly spilling from her blood-red gown,” she whispered.

  When the woman raised her hand to knock again, Jenny opened the door wider.

  “I have come to speak to Gavin. ‘Tis verra’ important.”

  As Jenny stepped back from the door, Gavin’s entire body stiffened. The woman rushed into the room, as if demons were on her heels.

  “Gavin! I have had a dream. ‘Tis horrible, but I must share it with ye. My potions foretold of yer journey back to Castle Ruadh, and I ran as fast as I…”

  “Calm down. The danger has passed…excuse me,” Jenny said, “what’s your name?”

  Gavin stared up at the ceiling.

  “I be Lana Sinclair.” She barely acknowledged Jenny, and latched onto Gavin’s wrist.

  Jenny tried to step between them, but Lana kept his wrist in a death grip. “Well, tell us all about Angus Sinclair, Cinnie, the wolves…?”

  Lana glared at Jenny, then glanced at Gavin. “How does this woman know what my dream foretold?”

  “Lana, we experienced everything Lady Morgan has mentioned. What else did yer dream show ye?” Gavin asked, wrenching his wrist free.

  Lana looked from Gavin to Jenny, crossed her arms, and smiled. “Gavin, why is this lass in yer bedchamber?”

  Jenny’s cheeks burned, and she pulled the blanket tighter around her nakedness.

  Gavin glared at the woman, all but ignoring Jenny’s discomfort. “ ‘Tis none of yer business, witch. Tell us yer dream.”

  Lana’s eyes widened. “Ye told her what I am?

  “Aye. Lady Morgan is also powerful, so show respect.”

  “As ye have no’ done? Fine. I dreamed of Niall. He was in my bed, and then he was gone. He flew like a dragon, and landed on the deck of a ship bound for Pentland Firth.”

  “A ship?” Gavin asked, suddenly alert.

  Lana walked around the room. She glanced at the tousled bed sheets, and the crumbled plaid on the floor.

  Wearing only his shirt, Gavin’s cheeks pinked.

  Why was he embarrassed in front of his brother’s lover? The uneasy expression on his face, as Lana sauntered around the small room, made Jenny’s body tighten with jealousy.

  Snap out of it, she thought. The sooner she learned all there was to know about the beautiful Lana Sinclair, the better their chances of finding Niall. Besides…

  “Gavin, didn’t you tell me you were looking for Lana?”

  Lana smiled and quirked an eyebrow.

  ***

  Blood dripped from Niall’s split lip. The coppery-smelling liquid snaked down his naked chest. A wave of nausea gripped his bruised abdomen. Lightheadedness would have brought him to his knees, but they had tied his arms crossways along a beam, inches above his head. The ropes bit into his flesh, and his feet dragged along the wooden floor of the damp hold, as his body swayed with each swell of the sea.

  “How could you do this? Are you asking to be slaughtered?” The captain’s whispered words contained a hint of remorse. He had broken her trust in him, and he would suffer for it.

  Continue to suffer for it, ‘tis true.

  Raven had given him quite a beating, and had smiled the entire time, then had passed the job to Thomas. After several more blows to the stomach made Niall exhale what little breath he held, Thomas mumbled an apology to the captain. When Bill splashed Niall with icy seawater. the captain did not move away.

  As the salt stung his new wounds, the misery on her face threw his plans askew. Groans would not save his hide. Straining to meet her sad eyes, his gaze locked on the beautiful emerald green orbs. Lowering his gaze, seawater from Bill’s bucket had drenched her shirt, making the fabric translucent.

  What new torture was this? Had he not saved the lad? Had he not brought down the vicious boar with one arrow, assuring that her son lived?

  Keegan had followed the hunting party. When he had run from his hiding spot, to catch up with the swiftly moving group, the creature had spotted him. The men guarding Niall had frozen in fear, but Niall’s one arrow had brought the beast down. The lad was unaffected by his near death experience. Unfortunately, Niall’s escape attempt was short-lived.

  “Captain, ‘tis an odd way to show yer thanks. I saved yer bairn!” Niall coughed, and a sharp pain seared along his bruised ribs.

  She wiped a tear from her cheek, as if trying to hide it from Raven. She nodded. “I am thankful that you took care of my foolish son, but then you ran. How do you explain your actions?”

  “I recognized the forest, and thought to return to my previous life. Ye ne’er declared I could stay. So, I thanked ye for yer hospitality by procuring fresh meat. I dinno’ expect to be treated this rudely.” Twisting slowly, trying to find a comfortable position, pain surged through his shoulders and wrists. He spat blood.

  “Aye, he nearly escaped,” Bill said, “but Raven hunted him.”

  Niall tensed, as Bill stepped closer with another bucket of stinging seawater. Did Bill praise the first mate out of respect, or fear?

  Niall would have made good his escape, but Raven had followed the men who guarded him.

  Hiding in the trees, after assuming no one had seen him leave, had been a mistake.

  “Raven made short work of bringing him down with a rock,” Thomas said.

  Bill chuckled, but Niall did not believe the older seaman’s heart was in it. Each time Raven ordered him to upend a bucket on Niall’s ravaged body, Bill’s eyes would not meet Niall’s.

  Had anyone explained to the captain what had happened? If he could turn this around in his favor, he might live longer.

  “I had saved the lad, and the fear of his near death reminded me of my precarious position as yer prisoner. What if I had no’ killed the beast, and he had harmed him? Aye, ‘twas my neck on the line, ye see.”

  �
��Aye, ‘twas a frightful gory scene, to which Snoddy will attest,” Bill added.

  “Doono’ call me that!” Raven Snoddy snapped.

  Niall said, “Why? If the name fits…” The backhanded slap snapped Niall’s head sideways, wrenching his tortured limbs in their bindings.

  Fighting a new wave of dizziness, he glanced at Raven’s savage visage. “My pardon. I dinno’ understand how ye wished to be addressed. Calling ye ‘Raven’ sounds a mite intimate.”

  Raven’s eyes widened. When he growled a litany of curses, raising his hand again, the captain stepped between them.

  “Enough!”

  Raven glared at her, but turned on his heel, and stormed away.

  Niall exhaled. “I am glad the child survived, and I be sorry I panicked.”

  She squinted at him, as if trying to read his thoughts. Could she tell that he lied? Was she wise enough to discern the truth? She was strong, fearless, and beautiful. She stood with her arms crossed beneath her ample chest, with a curved dagger tucked in her belted sash. A deadly combination. The world outside this ship was unaware that the dreaded pirate, Blair MacIan, was actually a woman. How had she hidden this piece of news?

  “You don’t strike me as a man easily scared. I heard you used my son as a diversion, so you could escape.”

  “I beg yer pardon, but ye be wrong.”

  Thomas, one of the men tasked with guarding him during the hunt, stepped forward. “Captain, make him beg for mercy. I would strangle the life from him, but he did bring down a mighty boar.”

  The captain turned her head to the side, and glared at her seaman. Thomas hung his head. He had spoken out of turn, in her presence.

  “I sent four men to hunt for deer. Instead, this man saved my foolish son. I will deal with Keegan next. Mr. Green has been punished enough.”

  Bill perked up at the last word, set down the bucket, and reached up to untie Niall’s bindings.

  Tumbling boneless to the hard deck, his agony intensified. Lying in a heap, he sucked in a few deep breaths, and waited.

  Thomas hauled him to his feet.

  “What do ye plan to do with me?” The words slipped out with a groan. Niall tamped down the urge to cry out in pain, quietly struggling to his feet. He wouldn’t give any of them the satisfaction.

  She faced him. Did she keep her gaze averted because his torn breeches, resting low on his hips, barely covered him? Even brutalized, her perusal made his groin tighten, so he wrapped an arm around his waist, and curled over it.

  His mind whirled, knowing he would watch for another chance to escape. Unfortunately, even with a body in pristine condition, he would not have the tools, nor the knowledge, required to find his way home. Not from the ship. By the shouts above, and the crates and sacks now filling the hold, he assumed they had concluded their visit to the cave near Castle Ruadh, and were at sea. His one attempt to flee, had ended in his capture.

  “I haven’t decided what to do with you. I owe you my son’s life, but I cannot trust you. You will remain our guest, for now, Mr. Green.”

  “Call me Balfour,” he repeated. “Might I know where we be headed?”

  She stared upward, as if the she could see through the plank ceiling of the hold. Niall assumed she was debating what she could tell him. He sensed that Thomas was loyal to her, but his quick inhale of breath worried him. Did Thomas think her actions would anger Raven?

  The first mate was no lover of men like Niall. He saw him as a problem, like a splinter that irritated his skin. Another suitor for his captain.

  “Thomas, return topside. We are going home.”

  CHAPTER 9

  Her prisoner rose from his cowering position. Blair dare not answer his question about their destination, lest he try to escape off the side of the ship. Climbing topside, she noted that her ship had sailed out of sight of the rocky shoreline, and farther out to sea. She didn’t send him back to his cell because she didn’t want the prisoner forced to remain in the hold. She couldn’t bear for him to suffer any longer, but their location meant he would not try to escape again.

  At the top of the second stairway, she stepped onto the main deck. Inhaling the crisp sea air fortified her for the battle to come.

  Raven would urge her to drop their prisoner in the sea. The crew assumed he had no monetary value, and had betrayed them, by fleeing.

  They had filled the skiffs with as much stored booty as they could safely carry. If he had escaped, he might have led others to their hiding spot. The cavern and its many tunnels had served them well, and she would hate to lose such a convenient location.

  If Balfour Green decided to stay on, as part of her crew, they could continue to use his various talents. He was strong, and a proven hunter. Once he healed from today’s beating, his muscles would be welcome.

  An image of his naked chest, as it hovered over her similarly naked flesh, rose up. She swallowed.

  Bill walked over, and stopped beside her. “Capt’n, we have the heading, and shall see home verra’ soon.”

  “Not soon enough,” she whispered.

  Maybe a nap would give her time to quell the erratic sensations in her belly, every time Balfour Green stood near. His physique hinted at a man who was a great example of hard-working Highland Scots. He might be a peasant or a farmer, but she didn’t care about class distinctions. Her adopted crew, and her own profession, attested to the truth in her words. Besides, if he was one of the hierarchy, or someone of monetary worth, he would have pleaded for her to ransom him.

  Her refusal to toss him into the sea was one of the many reasons why Raven acted hostile toward their prisoner.

  “I’ll have to soothe Raven’s feathers somehow,” she mumbled, “without him thinking I want him in a sexual manner.”

  “Are ye claiming ‘tis Raven, or our prisoner, who wants ye?” Bill asked, as they crossed to the side railing.

  Shocked that she had spoken aloud, heat rushed over her cheeks. “We need to keep our prisoner away from Raven. He thinks Balfour is getting too close to me. There’s no truth in that, of course.”

  “Have a drink with the men, Capt’n?” Bill held up his tankard.

  Shaking her head, she smiled. “Not today, Bill. I have some ledgers to transcribe. I want to distribute our goods as soon as we reach New Lincoln. Have the men tied them down well? If another storm brews…”

  “Aye, we stored most atop the gunwales. Pray we doono’ have to use the cannons ‘til we reach home. The wool and tools are fine in the hold. I see ye doono’ mean to keep our prisoner in the dark.” Bill chuckled, then sauntered away.

  The hairs on the back of her neck stood on end, as if someone watched her. She slowly turned toward the hatchway and her gaze locked on a pair of mossy-green eyes.

  Balfour stood in the open hatch, rubbing his fists, with his face raised to the sun. Bruises covered his naked chest and abdomen. Other men raised their voices in happy conversation, and a few tossed a straw-stuffed sack over the yardarm. Since they had not yet unfurled all the sails, due to the storm’s lingering winds, she would allow them their playtime.

  Leaning back against the rail, she crossed her arms loosely over her chest, and watched her crew. Thomas jabbed a long fishing pike into the sack, then swung it up and over the crossbar. The others cheered when the sack sailed over without touching the wooden yardarm, the furled sail, or any rigging.

  When Bill stooped over and speared the sack, then let it fly, she clapped loudly. The stout older sailor had made the sack sail effortlessly. She’d tried it one day after she’d downed a little too much hard cider, which was another reason why she rarely drank. In her opinion, the sack was heavy and awkward, and her shoulders had ached after a couple of unsuccessful tries. The men had chuckled, not too quietly, but most had offered suggestions.

  Scanning the deck, her gaze centered on the broad shoulders of their prisoner. He was cleaner then she’d left him. She assumed Keegan, or Cook, had offered him a basin of water and a bar of soap. He had tied his
sandy hair in a short queue at the back of his neck. The eye patch hid most of the swollen skin along the left side of his face. Darker stubble gave his face a hard edge, and the dark green sash looped around his forehead made him look more like a pirate than Bill, Thomas, or Johnny Depp.

  His naked chest was bruised, but striking. The well-healed scar that crossed it made her shiver. It must have hurt. His ragged trews were baggy, and tied about his waist with rope. He was barefoot, and blood dripped from the corner of his mouth.

  She snapped her gaze from his luscious mouth, but he’d already spied her leaning against the rail. With a mind of their own, her nipples hardened. The place between her thighs ached, even though he didn’t approach her.

  He must know that his earlier escape attempt was a break in trust to all concerned. He stepped slowly toward the circle of competing crew men. Fortunately, her crew was in a good mood, and eager for Cook to finish roasting the slaughtered boar. Since Balfour had killed the animal, and had saved her son from its sharp tusks, he was the hero of the hour; a tarnished hero, but a hero nonetheless.

  The fragrant smoke rising from the galley made her stomach growl. Leaning against the rail, doing nothing but watch her half-naked prisoner integrate himself into her crew, was a task that should make her smile. She wasn’t surprised when Bill thrust the spear toward Balfour in a friendly manner. Balfour caught it, and appeared to listen to the rules. When he bent to stab the sack, muscles rippled over his back and shoulders.

  Blair’s breath caught in her throat, and her palms grew clammy, yet she couldn’t take her eyes off him. He swung the hooked bag, gaining speed. When a roar escaped Balfour’s lips, she slapped a hand against her stricken throat. The sack went sailing, and flew up and over the yardarm.

  Cheers went up among the men, all except Raven. He sneered, and stalked away, while her crew slapped Balfour on the back. Bill thrust a tankard of ale into his empty hand. Balfour lifted the cup and swallowed, and her gaze locked on his long, tanned neck. When he lowered the empty tankard, the men cheered again. Balfour smiled, but the bruises and eye patch reminded her he was an injured man. Many of his wounds were her fault.