She punched her captor and he laughed. Then she spat in his face and scratched him, something that put a quick stop to his laughter but earned her a painful slap.
“Stupid whoreson,” she yelled, holding her cheek where he’d hit her. Then, to her relief, the sound of several Grant war whoops caught her ears. The thunder from the storm was nearly deafening now, but when she glanced away from the fool who’d captured her, she finally saw the source of the noise. Coming toward them was the best sight she’d ever seen.
Dyna rode behind Derric, her knees locked on the horse, her bow lifted overhead. Els, Alick, and Alasdair fought several men with their swords, knocking the heavily armored Englishmen off their mounts. The lightning continued to zip down, tossing some Englishmen off their horses. Ashlyn and Dyna fired their arrows in a fluid succession that was something to watch, though they could only do damage to the riders behind them, who wore no armor.
Then Alasdair came at her captor, whose iron grip on her leg would bruise her for sure.
“Down, Astra!” Alasdair yelled as he galloped toward them.
She did her best to throw herself off the horse, but the bastard dug his fingers into her flesh so hard that she bled. Her head banged against the side of the animal as she flipped over, upside-down.
She was surely about to die, if not from a fall then from the constant battering of her body against a moving beast.
Upside down on the horse, the tears began, but she refused to give up. She clawed at the Englishman’s relentless grip on her leg, wishing she had a knife to cut her leggings off. Alasdair hit the big bastard with the flat of his sword, and the man swayed in his saddle. Still he hung on, until Derric charged toward them. Derric stabbed at the man’s bicep with a dagger, and Dyna grabbed Astra by the arms, tugging her hard. Astra finally gained enough purchase to kick at the man, managing to catch him between the legs, and he released her—freeing Alasdair to finish him off.
Derric slowed his horse and Astra was finally able to sit up and grasp onto her sister, hugging her as if she’d never let go, tears flooding her face. “Hendrie?”
“He’s fine. Els has him.”
Once the battle ended, they gathered into a small group in an empty clearing. All was silent for a moment, then Dyna finally looked at her, her expression dark, and said, “Oh, you wee fool. What were you thinking, Astra?”
Sobbing, she stopped long enough to say, “We found Chrissa. She’s back in a deserted castle. I saw her horse.”
Alick said, “On second thought, well done, lass. Lead the way.”
***
Drostan held his fingers to his lips as he righted himself and stood up, not even caring that Chrissa had shoved him against the door.
Because if she hadn’t, they never would have realized it was open.
He glanced one way, then the other, but no one was about. Chrissa peeked into the passageway, whispering, “Sorry, Drostan.”
“I’m not.” He reached for her hand. “This way. This could be our only chance to escape.”
Something flashed in her eyes as she looked at his hand. “I know you’re not a liar. I’m sorry. Please forgive me.”
He stopped and pivoted, facing her. “Look, we can’t discuss this right now. We have to work together to escape. Can you do that? Even if you’re tempted to believe my mother, please don’t turn against me now,” he said, his jaw clenched so tightly it hurt. He was so close to her that he picked up her flowery scent.
No one else smelled as sweet as she did. Didn’t matter that she’d doubted him.
“Are you sure you don’t wish to leave me behind?” she whispered.
They stood nose to nose, nearly touching, and he had the sudden urge to kiss her. To remind her—and himself—they belonged together and these people around them had been playing with their minds.
She tried to pull away, but he held her hand in a firm grip.
“Nay,” he answered. “Even if we cannot work this out, you are still my lairds’ niece, so I’ll at least see you back to Grant land. Can you agree? Please, Chrissa. We have to get out of here carefully and quickly.”
“Aye.”
He didn’t suffer any illusions—she was still fired up—but she followed him down the passage. A slight breeze wafted from the end of a different pathway, and Chrissa pointed in that direction. They turned, surprised to find every chamber empty along the way. When they passed the last chamber before the door leading outside, he caught a glint of something out of the corner of his eye.
His sword was propped against a wall, and her bow and quiver of arrows sat on the shelf next to it. There was no one around and the chamber was otherwise empty.
Almost as if the weapons had been left out for them.
He wasn’t going to think on that possibility, knowing their best chance was to get the hell out. And now they were armed with their own weapons, something that gave them another boost.
He sheathed his sword, waiting for her to arrange her bow and quiver, and they left the chamber and headed out the door, pausing to listen before they climbed up the stairs.
It all felt impossibly lucky. Their only disadvantage was physical weakness—they’d been held in cells for the past two days, fed nothing but stale bread. Chrissa’s eyes had dark circles under them, her skin sallow and drawn, something he hated to see. When they got to the top step, he peeked out above ground level, looking for any guards in the area.
The area was quiet and empty. Eerily quiet. There was no curtain wall, another gift. Their surroundings were unfamiliar to him. The castle looked abandoned, but he asked, “Know you this place?”
She shook her head, snuggling against him for warmth. They searched the area for the best way out, only to notice two horses tethered off to the side, one of them Chrissa’s.
Another gift. What was going on? Were they being set up?
No time to think on it. They led the horses away on foot, not wanting to draw any attention with sudden movements, but they didn’t get very far before they heard the sounds of pursuit. A group of horses was heading toward them. Hiding in a copse of trees, they caught a glimpse of a small cavalry of Englishmen.
But most of them flew past them in the opposite direction.
Perfect timing because the arrival of the English distracted the guards at the front of the castle. Since they were at the back, away from the rest, they mounted and rode off, no sounds of pursuit.
In fact, it was nearly half an hour before they heard horses behind them. Four men chased them, one of them Sheriff Percy. “Stop, I say!”
Drostan glanced at Chrissa and smiled.
They set their horses to a full gallop across the meadow.
They were free. If they could get past this group of four Englishmen, none of whom could ride like he and Chrissa, he was sure they’d be safe.
Wouldn’t they?
Chapter Eighteen
Alex leaned over the parapets, smiling at the glorious day. The door banged open, disturbing his peace.
“Ramsay,” he greeted. He didn’t need to look to know who’d joined him.
“How’d you know ’twas me?”
Alex arched a brow at his friend and said, “’Truly you ask that question? No one else has taken so many doors off their hinges over the years.”
Logan laughed heartily. “I hear you’ve received word that Astra and her friend have been found.”
“Aye, and the wee troublemaker managed to find the castle where Chrissa and Drostan were being held. The Highland Swords team found them, but by the time they moved into the castle where they were being held, Chrissa and Drostan were gone. But there’s every indication they’re still alive.”
“Good news. I hope your grandbairns can locate them.”
“Astra and Hendrie should return soon. Connor will have a few things to say to the two of them.”
“I would wager he will,” Logan said. He leaned over the parapets next to him and said, “Recall you the day I stole your dear sister away to t
end my sickly brother? I find myself thinking about it of late.”
Alex chortled, staring at him. “You mean the day I allowed you to think you stole her away? My men had come back to tell me you were looking for her. I knew you needed her quickly so I allowed it.”
“Hellfire, you hand me such bullshite after all these years? You didn’t know it until after we snuck away. You would never have allowed me or anyone to steal one of your sisters away. I’m not daft yet, Grant.”
“I cannot argue with that fact. You got by our defenses, but it didn’t happen again. And look what good she did for your brother. I did find out about the situation in the morn, and once I knew the circumstances, I decided to allow it. But ten men were following you through the woods.” He cast a serious look at him. “And I don’t regret it.”
Logan nodded. “Brenna healed more than Quade in our clan.” He stared out over the trees, ignoring all that took place in the bustling courtyard beneath them.
“Aye, she helped Lily and Torrian, too.”
“She healed more than those three, but you know that, old man.”
Alex looked at Logan and nodded. “I do.” Logan had struggled to handle the sickness of his beloved niece and nephew. “I was there when you took a knee to vow you’d trade your life for hers. Others didn’t understand the implications, but I did. That same day we made the best alliance ever for Clan Grant.”
Logan glanced over at him, a small smile on his face. “I agree. Too bad we always bested you at the annual Ramsay festival.” The gleam in his eye told Alex exactly what he was after, but he ignored his friend’s plea for competitiveness.
“Do you think the festivals will continue after we’re gone?”
Logan nodded. “I believe Mama and Papa, and Quade are there every year. They’ll go on for centuries.”
They said nothing for a while, just enjoying the view and the company. Then Logan said, “Do you still dream about Maddie?”
“Aye. About twice a moon. She comes from heaven to deliver messages. She’s never able to linger, but I cherish every moment. Every memory. Why do you ask?”
“My Gwynie weakens. She’s not what she used to be.”
“None of us are, you old goat. She’s still better looking than you.”
“Aye,” he said, grinning. “I cannot argue that point.” He looked down at the view for a moment, collecting himself, then said, “But I think her time is near…”
He reached over and clasped Logan’s shoulder. “Fear not. When it happens, you’ll see her again.” Logan looked like he had something to say, but the moment was interrupted by shouts from the gates. “Come,” Alex said, “we must see what this is about.”
The two made their way down the staircase, Alex behind Logan, grasping his shoulder for the support he needed. Their progress was slow, but they made their way to the balcony.
“What is it?” Alex yelled down.
The door to the great hall opened and closed, Claray shouting, “Astra and Hendrie have returned.”
Upon discovering Astra and Hendrie were missing, Connor had been intent on sending out five hundred guards to find her. Alex had argued with him over it, convincing him the two wouldn’t be far from wherever Drostan and Chrissa would be found. There was no need for two patrols.
After they’d left, his son had come to him to explain his reasoning. “I’ll not have my daughter running about on her own, especially at her age,” Connor had said.
“You need to think on how old Dyna was when she wandered. And Astra has an uncanny ability to understand the world and where everything is in it. I say allow her to think she’s on her own. Let her lead and see where she ends up. Our patrols have turned up naught, and we’ve received no ransom message. Mayhap she’ll notice something the others haven’t. She may be the one who finds Chrissa.”
“Papa, with all due respect, you’re not thinking clearly. Are you showing a favorite?”
“Connor, one granddaughter is as important as another. I don’t value Astra any less than I do Chrissa, but when you give someone freedom to use their mind, they may surprise you with what they can do. Once our guards perceive any danger, we’ll give instructions to end the journey and bring them back.”
“It wouldn’t have been wise to send out five hundred. They are in training for Midsummer’s Day.” The clench in Connor’s jaw told Alex just how upset his youngest son was.
“The Highland Swords will find Astra and see what she’s found. Remember that the two weren’t kidnapped. I’m sure Dyna will be able to find her.”
Connor had cursed under his breath, but in the end, he’d agreed. “Only if the Highland Swords will do it.”
“I’m sure they would be honored to do you the favor.”
Indeed, they had.
“Tell me more about Astra,” Logan said, bringing Alex back to the present. “I know you wished to give her the chance to prove herself, Grant, but she’s mighty young, even for a Grant warrior. Why?”
“Astra is Connor’s youngest. The lass understands the land better than anyone I know. The maps she draws are beyond belief. I’d hoped she might see something the others have missed.”
The door opened again, and Connor entered the great hall, his hand on Astra’s arm. The lass fought him all the way inside.
“But Papa. Listen to me! We found them.”
“Why the hell would you go off on your own with only Hendrie to help you? How many times have you been told not to leave the gates without guards?”
Logan looked at Alex and nodded to him. “If you don’t, I will.”
Alex let out his loudest Grant war whoop. Logan covered his ears and muttered, “You did that apurpose, you old fool.”
Alex smirked but followed it up with a bellow. “Silence!” When everyone quieted, he said, “I’ll hear everything she has to offer, Connor. You can deal with her transgressions later.”
Kyla emerged from her chamber, her gaze intent on the hall. “What is it? What have you found?”
Astra turned from her father and raced up the stairs to stand next to her grandsire, shoving Logan out of the way. “I saw her horse. But when we went back with Dyna, they’d already gone. But they were there. Both Drostan and Chrissa.”
Alex patted her back and said, “Good job. Mayhap someday you’ll lead a patrol out. Now where is that Hendrie? I’d like to thank him, too.”
“He’s in the stables.”
Kyla reached for the wall to steady herself. “Praise the Lord.” Then she looked at her niece and said, “Well done, Astra.”
Astra beamed.
Chapter Nineteen
Chrissa pushed her horse, but the beast couldn’t keep up with Drostan’s. He slowed down, yelling at her, “Get her moving. They’re gaining on us.”
“I know, but I can’t make her go any faster. Think you they didn’t feed our horses any better than they fed us? ’Twould be my guess.” They rode on a for another few moments, her mare slowing further, before she blurted out, “Go on without me. At least you could go for help because you know where they’ll keep me if they catch me. Go, please.”
“Nay, I’ll not leave you.”
“Or your mother?” She didn’t want to believe that he’d conspired with his mother, but every time something interfered with their ability to get home safely that bitch of a woman popped into her mind.
Then again, she couldn’t imagine the man she was falling in love with would want anything to do with a woman like that. He might share her blood, but he was nothing like her at all.
There. The thought had burst through her remaining doubts. She loved him. And love was the kind of emotion that made you believe in someone’s innate goodness—and that belief was far more powerful than any doubt an enemy could sow.
But she didn’t have a chance to say so, because Drostan responded, “Hellfire, Grant. If the woman you saw is my mother, I haven’t seen her in over three years, and I’m not interested in seeing her now.” He stayed abreast of her, but they were reac
hing a small glen, which would force them to slow while the others were still at full gallop.
Glancing over her shoulder, Chrissa noticed two guards were in the lead, with Percy just behind them. The fourth horse had fallen back quite a distance.
She believed him—she truly did—so she set the thought far from her mind. “Drostan, they’re catching us. We should stop so I can set up in a tree. You take on one while I take the others down with my bow.”
“Can’t you turn around and shoot at them?”
“I’m too weak to shoot a moving target from a moving target. I’d have a better chance if we stopped.”
He looked ahead of him and pointed to a spot with a large boulder. “We’ll stop there. You can put the horses behind the boulder to get them out of the way. We can’t risk losing them.”
She agreed and they dismounted as fast as they could, Drostan lifting her down and grabbing her bow for her. Once they were both in position, Chrissa in a tree and Drostan concealed by the other side of the boulder, they could do naught else but wait.
She’d always listened to stories of battle with avid interest. With jealousy, even, especially when it was her older cousins doing the talking. Dyna and the lads had always had such adventures. Once she’d said as much to Els’s wife, Joya, and her sister-in-law, Branwen. Joya, who’d been a spy, something she’d always considered the most exciting vocation of all, had shaken her head. “Sweetling, I know it sounds exciting, but it wasn’t. When you’re in the thick of it, it’s more frightening than you can comprehend.”
“But Joya, were you not thrilled to be such a major part of King Robert’s quest for freedom? Had you not pretended to be an English spy at Glen Trool, the battle might not have gone nearly so well for our side. Were you not excited?”
Joya shook her head slowly and said, “Oh, nay. I was so afraid to be struck down by an arrow that I nearly pished myself.”
“Someday you’ll understand,” Branwen had added. “And then you’ll wish you never had to.”
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