A Knight To Call My Own

by Sherry Ewing

  “Aye,” Ian agreed with a grim expression. “He is sure to have plenty of reinforcements to thwart our plans to free Lynet. Let us away.”

  Seven men against who knew how many? The odds of success were certainly not in their favor this day. The urge to follow and protect Lynet surged through Ian’s veins like fire as he moved rapidly across the forest floor. They had not gone far when a disturbing shriek rent the air. Ian charged ahead. All thoughts of remaining silent were now gone, hearing the distressed cry of his wife.

  He came upon them, but Calum was too busy to notice he was no longer alone. He held Lynet by her wrist whilst she was doing her best to try to pry his fingers from her bleeding limb. A trail, formed from her slippers, showed in the dirt beneath her feet where Calum had been dragging her against her will.

  Ian burst from the cover of the trees into the small open area, despite the fact he could hear Calum’s men in camp within close proximity. All patience he may have had was gone seeing another touching his lady, and he could no longer hold back, nor make any further attempt to remain unheard whilst he rescued her.

  “Get your damn hands off my wife!” Ian yelled as he drew his claymore from behind his back. The blade gleamed, as though Ian’s anger were reflected in the shining silver metal.

  Calum gave a menacing glare, although, he let his guard down momentarily, to show he was surprised Ian claimed the lady in such a final manner. “Your wife?” he asked and turned his attention back to the woman at his side. “It appears, you have not told me all, my lady.”

  “’Twas none of your business,” she announced with a defiant toss of her beautiful head. Ian had never seen her look so glorious in her state of fury, and he thought on how he would not wish to be on the receiving end of such a gaze.

  Her blue eyes displayed her resentment of her captor ’til she turned her attention to Ian, and her whole countenance transformed to one of pure joy. Ian’s heart gave a little flip, knowing such a look was for him alone. The distance separating them ceased to exist in his mind whilst they had eyes only for each other. Lynet gave him a smile that silently spoke she had all the confidence in him that he would free her, and, by God, he would not let her down.

  “Eh gads, I have no desire, or time, to watch two lovesick fools,” Calum said gruffly. “It seems, I have nothing left to lose, and you leave me no choice, but to fight for the coin you would bring me.”

  Afore any could stop him, Calum pulled Lynet most unwillingly into his arms, and Ian watched as the man’s mouth ground onto the lips of his woman. His control snapped at their contact as though ’twere an erupting volcano erupting spewing hot molten lava high into the air. Lynet began squirming in order to free herself. Their brief kiss over, Calum let out a fierce battle cry to alert those nearby that aid was needed. Ian lunged ahead with only one thought in mind. He was going to kill the miserable whoreson for taking such a liberty with his wife!

  ~***~

  “Bloody hell!” Rolf swore afore he, too, joined into the fray. Men seemed to pour from the woods like an army of ants attacking a food source. Clearly, they were outnumbered.

  Rolf saw the chaos breaking out all around them, even whilst Lynet was shoved violently to the ground. She scurried out of the way as swords were raised and clashed with sparks flashing about like dancing stars in the twilight. She might be bruised, but she at the very least was safe…at least for the moment.

  Any further thoughts went racing out of Rolf’s mind as the will to live took over every other instinct in him. His blade rang out as he met one adversary after another. He may have done his fair share of attempting to even out the odds when his present opponent fell in front of him, but the man was just as easily replaced by another. ’Twas more than apparent, they would in no way win such a battle with the small number of forces on their side.

  Ian was holding his own, along with his guardsmen who were making a small measure of headway reaching their laird’s side. Rolf could tell Ian was doing everything in his power to reach Calum to prove his point he was the better man. Currently, their foe was fighting with one of Rolf’s men, who had accompanied him from Berwyck. Alas, he saw the man fall with an empty look in his eyes as he dropped like the weight of a bolder, at Calum’s feet. The man cared nothing for the loss of life, as he kicked the knight in the stomach, once he lay upon the ground.

  A slice across his arm drew Rolf’s attention back to the highlander who raised his sword again to inflict another such wound, if not a fatal one. He ducked just in time to miss the sharp claymore that had been aimed at his head and parried with his own sword, thrusting the blade into the man’s back. His gaze caught Ian’s across the field of the dying where a river of blood began to seep into the ground. He could tell they were of like mind.

  With no thought to the value of his own life or the outcome, Rolf leaped over the man he had just cut down and began running the distance to reach Calum first. Their swords met, and even Rolf had to admit the man was a towering mountain of strength. He could feel the muscles in his wounded arm quiver each time he raised his sword against his opponent.

  He looked for Ian who was closing the distance between them. “Get her the hell out of here!” Rolf shouted and watched in satisfaction as Ian’s purpose was to now reach Lynet’s side.

  Rolf’s attention returned to the matter afore him. His sword sang out, yet again, but he could tell he was tiring. Calum gave him a shove, and Rolf stumbled back from the force as he attempted to regain his footing.

  He stepped forward to challenge the man, yet again, but got no farther. Shattering pain exploded from behind him when he felt the hilt of a sword slam into the back of his skull. Dazed, he began to collapse, even as a blade was thrust into his body from behind. Just as speedily, the sword was withdrawn with a sickening sound. Falling to his knees, he began to choke on the blood rising in his throat, knowing he was not long for this world.

  Everything around him began to move in a slow, hazy motion. Rolf’s gaze searched out the area ’til he at last espied Lynet. She had a look of horror etched upon her beautiful face, along with a silent cry for his fate frozen upon her lips. Still…she never appeared lovelier, and in his humble opinion, she had the face of an angel. Sadly, he realized he had failed in his vow to keep her safe, along with the trust Lord Dristan had sanctioned him with as her captain.

  A quick prayer formed in his mind that God would not judge him too harshly for his trespasses whilst here on earth. His eyes rolled in his head, and he felt himself pitching forward. Afore he fell to the ground, peacefulness began to wash over him, and he could have sworn he heard a heavenly choir singing in the air. Never had he heard such a gentle, sweet sound as their song surrounded his entire body. A calming light appeared afore his vision, beckoning him onward. With a sense of soaring through the air, Rolf willingly reached out for one of the Lord’s beautiful guardians who took ahold of his soul as she gently guided him to the heavens above. He was going home.

  ~***~

  “ROLF,” Lynet screamed out. “Nay!”

  She watched in shock when Lachlan pulled his blade out of Rolf’s back, even whilst Calum smiled at their deed of defeating the knight.

  All the life drained out of the man who had been such a significant part of her existence. Rolf had risked all to come and save her. She could tell the moment his soul left him when his green eyes became vacant, and he tumbled to the ground with a heavy thud. In her despair, she attempted to stagger into the mayhem to reach his side. She did not think of the consequences of her actions, but forced her feet to move forward, step by step. She did not care of the danger she placed herself in. She only knew she must needs see what she could do to help him, whatever the cost might be.

  She thought she had made some progress, dodging highlanders and knights as they fought with their blades of steel. Hearing her name called out above the ruckus of battle, she came to the harsh revelation she had not even crossed half the distance to reach Rolf’s side. Then, she felt her arm grabbed
roughly, and she whirled to suddenly find herself staring into Ian’s worried hazel eyes.

  “Run, lass, run,” he urged, trying to force her to come to her senses and realize their situation.

  “My God, Ian, we canna leave him here,” she yelled at him through her tears. “We must go back to save him.”

  “He is past saving, Lynet,” Ian replied gravely, pressing her to quicken her pace. “Now hurry, lest his death be all for naught.”

  Ian gave a short whistle, and a moment later his horse, along with two others, came galloping up through the woods. Ian leapt into the saddle and reached down to hoist her up in front of him. She was barely settled in the saddle, afore Ian kicked his horse into flight. There was no mistaking the sound of Calum’s curses ringing out for his highlanders to take up the chase.

  Tears coursing down her cheeks, she took one last glance at Rolf’s lifeless body lying motionless on the ground. He had made the ultimate sacrifice on her behalf, and his service to her had cost him his very life. She took note that two of Berwyck’s own were close by and also dead upon the earth. The third, she had witnessed during the altercation, was nowhere to be seen.

  The forest obscured any further witness to the fallen guards who bravely went against enough men to turn away anyone, who had any common sense, from a battle they were sure to lose. Lynet’s lips moved in a reverent prayer for Rolf’s soul to find peace. After everything the man had done for her over the years, ’twas only right she should offer up her petitions on his behalf. ’Twas done out of respect and the love he had felt for her. To honor his memory, she would keep a part of him in her heart, forevermore.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Ian tightened his arms around the napping woman in his lap. Her crying had torn at his heart strings ’til she had at last fallen into a restless slumber. Even then, her dreams continued haunting her as she cried out, now and again. He supposed there was some consolation, whilst he listened to her torment as she slept, that she called out his name alongside of Rolf’s.

  The sound of pursuit had faded as the miles passed swiftly away. Ian did not give any sign of false hope that Calum was not still following them. He knew his kind and was determined to put as much distance between them as he possibly could. He prayed the third guard who had been accompanying Rolf would make it safely back to Berwyck to alert Dristan of all that had occurred.

  Ian made a motion of his hand to alert Angus of his plans to change their current direction. Giving a slight pull to the left on the reins, he directed his horse to move out of the riverbed they had been wading through in order to cover their tracks. The clip clop of their hooves sounded out as they met the rocky bank. Steering their horses up a small rise in the landscape, Ian peered down at the ground. They would need to do something about the impressions of hoof prints the heavy animals left on the grassy soil beneath them. Even though night had descended upon them, anyone with even a limited amount of tracking ability would be able to easily read their trail they left behind and locate them.

  They needed to give the horses a rest, for they had done their duty this day by furthering the space between them and the enemy. Ian peered ahead and decided the best course of action would be to head to a grouping of nearby trees. There wasn’t much cover here on the open Scottish moors. But, he knew he could not push their steeds further this night to get them into the Highlands and the mountainous terrain that would be of greater benefit in hiding their whereabouts. Unfortunately, Ian realized Calum would know, without any doubt, which direction he planned to take.

  Reaching the trees, Ian shifted Lynet in his arms. Her hand reached up and wound its way around his neck. For the briefest instant, he took delight of at last feeling her warm body pressed intimately against his own. Whilst the battle had raged on, he had had his doubts any of them would make it out of there alive. Yet, here she was, a little battered, both emotionally and physically, but at least she was safe.

  “Ian…” She said his name in a breathless whisper, causing a slight shiver to traverse its way through his senses.

  “Awake, Lynet. Let me help you down for we must needs rest the horses awhile,” he replied, brushing his knuckles lightly across her bruised cheek.

  Her eyelids began to flutter open, and, for a moment, he saw a brief glimpse of the nightmare hidden in the depths of her eyes as she hovered between sleep and wakefulness.

  “Ian?” she repeated, although the tone of her voice did not have the same lilting quality it had but an instant ago.

  “Aye.”

  He swung his leg over the saddle and dropped to the ground. “Connor,” he called out quietly as the man made his way to his side. “Double back and cover our tracks, and do it well. I have no desire to be back on the run ’til we have given the horse’s adequate time to recuperate from traveling at such speed and distance this night.”

  “Aye, me laird,” he replied and hurried off in the direction from whence they had come.

  Satisfied his instructions would be obeyed, he returned his interest to his wife, who was weaving in the saddle. He stretched out his arms towards her, and Lynet leaned down, placing her hands upon his shoulders to slide down the length of his body. Luckily, he was prepared when her knee’s buckled beneath her as he continued holding on to his lady. He grasped her firmly around her waist to offer her the support she stood in need of ’til she regained her feet.

  Her forehead rested upon his chest, and, for the first time, he realized just how small his lovely wife truly was whilst she tried to reclaim her breath. Her hands rose up onto his torso, and he felt her fists grasp the edges of his tunic. He was about to lean down to place a tender kiss upon her head when she reacted as though he were in truth their enemy and not Calum.

  “Get your hands off me!” She all but condemned him with her tone as she gave him a push to distance herself from him.

  He rocked back on his heels only to stare down into her mutinous, angry blue eyes. “Whatever is the matter?” he retorted.

  “How can you even ask that of me, given what happened back there?” She pointed her arm into the air, but the direction she tried to draw attention to was the wrong way, not that it mattered. Ian knew what she referenced, but there was not much he could do about what had transpired. He did what he needed in order for him to save her, although the price had, indeed, been high.

  “You know what the cost of war can be, Lynet. I should not have to explain to you the price that sometimes must be paid,” Ian murmured.

  Her eyes betrayed the true extent of her emotions, as though she had written them out on parchment for the entire world to read. Her hand shakily pushed away a lock of blonde hair that had fallen across her brow. She attempted to smother her cry of despair, but instead choked on the sob that tore from her lips in a gasp of sorrow.

  He continued to observe her, and he had the distinct feeling she would blame him for Rolf’s death. She clutched at the plaid he had thrown around her to keep the chill away, but as she raised her face to him again, her eyes confirmed his worst fears.

  “You just left him there,” she whimpered so softly with tears running down her cheeks that he barely heard her voice.

  “Lynet I─”

  “You left him there!” Her voice echoed in the air as she yelled out in misery. “You left him there with his blood seeping into the cold, hard ground amongst strangers and for the crows to come and pick away at his body!”

  “You are being unreasonable, Lynet.”

  “Do not tell me I am being unreasonable,” she spat out angrily. “You have no notion what I have been through since I was taken from Berwyck.”

  Ian sighed and ran his hand through his hair. “Aye, you may have that aright, but you must surely know we were outnumbered. Or have you not thought of that, as you accuse me of leaving behind a comrade whilst I tucked my tail between my legs and ran away like a coward?”

  “I never said you were a coward. Only that you should have returned to save him.”

  “He was pa
st saving, Lynet. Rolf knew the dangers we were facing. He and I both did what we needed in order to secure your freedom.”

  “He was my friend!” she cried out. “I thought he was yours, as well.”

  He discounted her words, knowing she was hurting, but he began to also wonder what her true feelings had been for Rolf. “You make me believe from your speech you loved him,” Ian said brusquely. “Did you?”

  “Of course, I loved him, but─”

  “Then maybe you should have handfasted with him, instead,” Ian blurted out. “It could just as easily have been me who lies dead in the forest, instead of him.”

  “You did not let me finish,” she returned harshly.

  “I am sorry for the loss of the one you declare to have loved,” Ian continued on bitterly whilst ignoring her last statement. “If I could switch places with him in order to make you happy, then I would. ’Tis an impossible task for me to change what is done. I hope you will be able to surmise such a fact for yourself, once you can think clearly again.”

  “Now who is being unreasonable,” Lynet fumed. “You automatically assume I wish ’twas you instead of Rolf who is in need of burying. I never spoke such to you, did I?”

  He did not answer her, since he did not know how to calm her rising temper. “How are we supposed to live as man and wife if you harbor feelings for a man who is dead, Lynet?” Ian asked harshly.

  A snort escaped her, and she shook her head then gathered the tartan over her head. “How little you truly know me, Ian.”

  “I know you well enough,” he began ’til she held her hand up. He clamped his lips together with a snap.

  “Nay, you do not, for you were not there, were you? You kissed me after the siege to Berwyck six years ago then left without even a backward glance. I am sure you gave little thought to what such a kiss would mean to me,” she said with a catch in her voice. “With a wave of your hand, I watched you leave Berwyck, never to return again, as you proclaimed, even though I wished differently.”