by B. J. Scott
Dungal lowered the tent flap, turned, and rubbed his groin. “Now, where were we? My ballocks ache and I know how to relieve them.” His smug grin quickly faded when he stared at the gaping hole at the back of his tent and him crouching over Fallon. “Halt!”
Bryce ignored Dungal’s command, dragged Fallon to her feet, and shoved her toward freedom. “Go!” he ordered aloud and then whispered in her ear, “Run to the east as fast as you can. No matter what happens, dinna turn back. My brother and other members of our rescue party will see you to safety.” His instructions given, Bryce positioned himself between Fallon and Dungal, and drew his sword. “You’ll not live long enough to harm another lass. After I lop off your ballocks, I’ll run you through.”
Dungal laughed and picked up his blade. “We’ll see who ends up a gelding,” he scoffed. “Once I’ve done away with you, I’ll track down the little whore. By the time I’m finished with her, she’ll beg to die. I’ll gladly do the honors. Unless I decide to offer her to my men first.”
Fallon clutched her torn kirtle together with one trembling hand and grabbed her gown and slippers with the other. She turned to leave, but hesitated. “I canna go without you, Bryce,” she sobbed.
“How touching,” Dungal scoffed.
“Go now, Fallon!” Bryce shouted as Dungal lunged forward in an attempt to stop her.
She nodded and began to climb through the opening, but as two men’s swords collided, she paused and looked back. “Bryce,” she gasped.
“Be gone, Fallon,” Bryce ordered, the momentary distractions affording Dungal the chance to knock him off balance. He tumbled backward and the bastard snatched his weapon. Fear swept through him as he stared up at his nemesis. Not for himself, but for Fallon, who once again hesitated. “Run!”
“Prepare to die. This time, I’ll do the task properly,” Dungal growled.
Chapter 18
Tears flowing freely down Fallon’s face as she slipped through the hole. Bryce had lost his weapon because of her. Her premonition of his death at Dungal’s hand appeared about to come true and there was nothing she could do to stop it. She clutched at her throat. The last thing she’d seen was a self-aggrandizing grin on Dungal’s face as he hovered over Bryce, his blade raised in the air.
She fought the overwhelming urge to go back, but that would be exactly what Dungal wanted. She tugged her gown over her head and donned her slippers before darting into the forest. She had no idea where she was headed, but Bryce had assured her Alasdair waited.
Go east and dinna look back.
Bryce’s words echoed in her mind, and her chest tightened. He’d risked all to save her, traded his life for hers, and she might never see him again. A myriad of concerns for Bryce flooded her mind, threatening to override her good senses. Bryce had ordered her to leave, but if she located Alasdair quickly, he might be able to assist his brother.
Her heart pounded a warrior’s beat and the surge of energy coursing through her veins gave her the strength to forge on. With the stealth and determination of a wildcat hunting its prey and the full moon to light the way, she raced along an overgrown path. The smell of the MacDougall’s cook-fires and the sounds of angry men shouting faded deeper into the distance with each step.
After her narrow escape, she wondered if the other members of the rescue party had made it to safety. Did Alasdair survive, or had he been captured? Was Bryce alive? Her mind raced with questions. Mayhap Dungal was only a few steps behind her.
A strong arm snaked around her waist and a calloused hand covered her mouth. “Dinna make a sound.” The brute raised her off the ground and yanked her against a solid wall of muscle, leaving her with both feet dangling in the air.
Was he friend of foe? He hadn’t announced his intent, so she assumed the latter. She bit down on his hand and kicked back with her heel, connecting with his groin.
He dropped her immediately, then doubled over, a string of curses flowing from his mouth.
Fallon scrambled out of his reach, but in her haste to get away, bumped into another man blocking the trail.
She staggered backward, staring into the eyes of someone else she did not recognize. He stomped forward, and she took a step back, all the while searching for a means of escape.
“Watch her. She bites like a viper and kicks like a horse,” the first man cautioned as he tried to stand upright.
Before either of her assailants could speak again, Fallon headed for the edge of the woods, taking refuge behind a large boulder. She picked up a sharp branch, wielding it like a sword. “Dinna come any closer. I’ll not surrender, and I refuse to go back to Dungal while there is breath left in my body.”
The second man laughed. “I applaud your bravery, but dinna think you pose much of a threat with a stick. Be a good lass and come here.”
The two men closed in, but stopped when a third person approached. “What in damnation is going on?” he bellowed as he strode out of the shadows.
Fallon’s heart raced and her breath lodged in her throat. Her odds of outsmarting two warriors were slim, but she didn’t stand a chance against three. Panic squeezed her chest.
“You were supposed to find the lass and bring her to me, not frighten her to death.” The third man threw his hands in the air and continued toward her.
The timber of his voice was vaguely familiar. However, it was not enough to let down her guard. She narrowed her eyes, the breath she held escaping in a whoosh when she saw Alasdair’s face appear in the moonlight.
He reached for her. “Dinna fear, lass, these two idiots are here to help you, not to harm. Come to me, and we will be away.”
She dropped the branch and moved forward, but her head began to spin. Before she could steady herself, everything went black.
When her eyes fluttered open, she looked up at a rugged face etched with concern peering down at her. She rested on the ground with her head on Alasdair’s knee.
“You gave us a scare.” Alasdair inclined his head and issued orders to one of his companions. “Fetch me a plaid and a flask of whiskey. Dinna tarry.” He focused his attention on Fallon. “Take a few deep breaths and calm yourself. You’re safe now, lass.” He brushed a lock of hair from her forehead.
For a gruff man of his size, Alasdair’s touch was much gentler than she’d anticipated. “I’m fine. Please let me up.”
“I’ll decide what is best for you. You’ll be allowed to rise when I’m sure you’ve had sufficient time to recover from your fright.” Alasdair accepted a plaid from one of the men and covered her. He took the flask of whiskey and pulled out the stopper. “Drink,” he demanded huskily and brought the vessel to her mouth.
She pushed his hand away and turned her head. “I said I am fine. I dinna want any whiskey, but I must speak to you about Bryce.”
“My brother will meet us when he is done with Dungal.” Alasdair’s reply was simple and direct. He made a second fruitless attempt to give her a drink.
“You dinna understand.” Fallon tried to stand, but when her head spun and her stomach clenched, she slowly sank to her knees. “What happened to me?”
“You fainted and look ready to do so again.” Alasdair ran his hand over his stubbled chin.
“I never fainted in my life. But I’ve eaten very little in the last few days, so that might explain my weakness.” She made another attempt to rise and this time succeeded, despite her wobbly legs.
“You must listen to me.” She stared at him in frustration. “Bryce needs your help. That is, if you are not too late.”
She quickly crossed her chest. “He managed to free me, but Dungal returned before we could escape together. Bryce insisted I leave while he stayed behind to face Dungal and his men alone. He is sorely outnumbered, and the last I witnessed, Dungal had forced him to the ground and relieved him of his sword.”
“My brother knew the risk before he entered Dungal’s tent, but it was our only hope of saving you. He was clear we were to find you and wait in this spot. That is exactly what we’ll do.�
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Fallon’s mouth dropped open in utter disbelief. “We canna just leave him to Dungal and his men. You must try to assist him.”
Her plea fell on deaf ears. Alasdair hoisted her into his arms before she could protest further and carried her down the path.
Her attempt to struggle failed. Alasdair ignored her badgering and strode toward a small clearing. Frogs croaked and the reflection of the moon wavered on the rippling surface of a nearby pond.
“We wait here.” He plunked her down on a log then handed her the plaid he’d slung over his shoulder while carrying her.
“I dinna need coddling.” She pushed the length of fabric from her lap, stood, and planted her hands firmly on her hips. “I canna believe you refused to lend Bryce your support. He’s your brother and would surely not desert you in the face of such odds.”
“My brother must possess the patience of a saint to tolerate your constant nagging and demands. If you were my woman, I’d put an end to the nattering in a hurry.”
Fallon harrumphed with indignation. “I’m not your woman. I belong to no man and answer to no one but the Almighty.”
The man she’d bitten laughed, then quickly held out his hand as evidence. “I’d not rile her if I were you.”
“Had you announced yourself and your purpose, I would not have retaliated so aggressively. But you came at me from behind. How was I to know if you intended to help or harm me?”
“She has a point.” The second man slapped the first man on the back. “We handled the situation poorly. Good thing she dinna carry a dirk or sword. We’d both be flayed.” He threw back his head and laughed.
Fallon balled her fists in her skirt. She could not believe Alasdair’s complacency or that of his men. “What is the matter with you? Bryce is in danger. He may already be dead.” Tears welled in her eyes, but she scrubbed them away with the back of her hand. “If you won’t to do anything to help him, give me a sword and I’ll go myself.” She made no effort to hide the urgency or determination in her voice. “I never should have left Dungal’s tent without Bryce. If he dies, I’ll not forgive myself.” Unable to contain her regret, she buried her face in her hands.
“Calm yourself. You’re going nowhere. Bryce entrusted me with your care, and I won’t let him down. Rushing off and putting yourself in danger would only make things worse.” Alasdair gently touched her shoulder, but she shrugged him away. “We’ll wait a little longer, but if he doesna arrive in the next hour, we must head back to the Bruce’s camp.”
“I’ll not leave without Bryce. You may go if you choose, but I’ll not accompany you. Once you’ve departed, I will return for him.”
“I understand your concern, but Bryce would want you to wait here. If he fails to return, it is my duty to see you to safety.”
“Do you have such little faith in me, brother?”
Fallon’s heart leapt at the sound of Bryce’s voice. She spun around and flung herself into his arms. Allowing the tears to flow, she frantically kissed his neck, his jaw, and his lips. “I thought Dungal killed you.” She sobbed, soaking the front of his tunic and holding on with a death grip to the fabric. “I canna believe you’re alive. Thank God, you’re here.”
“Believe, luaidth.” He dropped his head and captured her lips with a kiss that stole her breath and rattled her to the very core.
Her moment of bliss ended when she noticed the blood stains on his tunic. “You’re wounded.” She gasped. “Show me where.”
“The blood belongs to Dungal. After you left, he drew down on me with his sword, but not before I rolled out of the way, pulled the dirk from my boot, and plunged it into his chest. You were right when you gave the weapon to me at your uncle’s croft and predicted it would save my life again.” He pulled her closer and kissed her soundly, then held her at arm’s length, his face suddenly contorted with concern.
“Did Dungal . . .?” He choked on the words, but he had to know. “Did he harm you? Did the bastard violate you?” He spat out the words. “Tell me I wasna too late to stop him.”
“Aye. You arrived in time. Dungal was about to ravage me, but he dinna have the chance.”
“Thank you, God.” Bryce looked skyward, then hauled her against his chest and kissed her like a drowning man struggling for his last breath.
“I hate to break up this happy reunion, but we best be on our way.” Alasdair placed his hand on Bryce’s shoulder. “Was Dungal dead when you left him?”
“Would that I had killed him.” Bryce released his hold on Fallon. “Unfortunately, two of his clansmen entered the tent and I was unable to finish him off. With any luck, the wound I delivered will be enough.”
“Even more reason to be off. I am sure the MacDougalls will give chase, and we’ve already lost two men in the skirmish.”
Bryce glanced around the clearing at the men. “Blair and Derek were killed?”
Alasdair nodded. “Aye, both died quickly.”
“Their sacrifice willna be forgotten.” Bryce bowed his head.
Fallon’s heart plummeted. She’d cost two men their lives. “I’m sorry,” she whispered.
“You have no reason to apologize. Dungal took you prisoner, and it was not your fault the men were killed. They volunteered for this mission, and while it is sad they perished, they died a warrior’s death, in a battle against an enemy they despised.” Bryce slid his arm around Fallon’s shoulders and held her tightly. “You are not to blame.”
“This is not the time to discuss who is responsible. We must depart for the Bruce’s camp.” Alasdair led a horse forward.
Bryce lifted Fallon into the saddle then climbed up behind her. Unlike the disgust she’d experienced when Dungal had done the same thing, she felt a warm rush of longing, a surge of excitement brewing in her belly and beyond when Bryce encircled her hips with his powerful thighs.
With a sharp kick of Bryce’s booted foot, the horse lunged forward.
Chapter 19
They rode nonstop for three hours, arriving at the Bruce’s camp before midnight.
“Your journey appears to have been successful. Is the lass not well?” Robert greeted them and grabbed the reins of Bryce’s horse.
“She’s exhausted and fell asleep a few miles back. I dinna have the heart to wake her.” He glanced down at Fallon, snuggled in his arms, her hand fisted in his tunic. The sight of her made his heart thump so hard, he wondered if Robert could hear it.
Robert held Fallon while Bryce dismounted. “You have two less men than you had when you started out.”
“Outnumbered six to one, I’m surprised we dinna lose more.” Bryce gathered Fallon into his arms and carried her toward a fallen tree. “When do we leave for our next encounter with the English?”
“At daybreak. You’ve arrived in time to get a good night’s sleep.” Robert cocked a brow. “Unless you have other plans.”
Fallon stirred, then brought her hand up to her mouth and yawned. “Have we arrived?” She yawned again and glanced around the clearing, her eyes meeting with Robert’s.
Bryce set her on her feet and she quickly combed her fingers through her hair. She smoothed her hands down the front of her disheveled gown then offered a curtsy of respect to the Scottish King. “I must look a fright.”
“On the contrary, you put me in mind of my Elizabeth on our wedding night. She was about your age when we married. I was a widower. My first wife died after giving birth to my daughter, Marjorie. I was not certain I wanted to remarry right away, but the lass needed a mother, and it was my responsibility as clan chief to provide a male heir if possible. Love and duty have a way of conquering many obstacles.” Robert lowered his head. “Both are being held prisoner by Longshanks. Something I soon hope to rectify.”
“I’ll pray they are safe,” Fallon said.
Robert coughed to clear his throat. He glanced from Fallon to Bryce. “You’re welcome to use my tent for your wedding night if you so desire.”
Bryce shifted his weight and ran his hand a
cross the back of his neck. “I’m sure Fallon would welcome a warm place to sleep for the night. I can fetch a plaid and bed down with the men.”
Robert’s brow knit together. “I assumed given the circumstances, you’d be sharing a tent.”
“I dinna know what he means.” Fallon looked to Bryce for answers.
“If I spoke out of turn, please accept my apology. Mayhap we should give the two of you some time alone to speak.” Robert gave a curt nod and motioned for Alasdair to join him.
“What was Robert talking about?” Fallon gripped Bryce’s forearm, but he didn’t turn around. “Please tell me.”
“He assumed we would want to spend the night together,” Bryce finally answered, but didn’t elaborate any further. His pulse raced and his stomach twisted. He didn’t want to upset Fallon, but he could not bring himself to say what she wanted to hear. Despite his strong feelings for her, he could never enter into a relationship. It wouldn’t be fair to either of them. He’d almost cost Fallon her life once and he refused to take that risk again.
“I see.” Fallon withdrew her hand and stepped away. “I suppose that is a ridiculous assumption given your dedication to the cause and determination not to fall in love. I was foolish to believe—”
“To believe what, Fallon?” His resolve wavering, Bryce spun around to face her. “You are a beautiful, desirable woman. Any man would be proud to call you his own.”
“Except you.” She wrapped her arms around her waist, her eyes downcast. “You’ve made yourself clear on more than one occasion that you have no interest in anything beyond the present.”
“It has nothing to do with you. The problem lies in me. If I were to take a wife, you would be my choice. But I canna fall in love. It would not be fair to you. Besides, I’m not worthy.” He couldn’t hide the emotion in his voice when he spoke.
“You once asked me to share my inner thoughts with you, Bryce, to tell you why I felt the need to do everything alone. I am asking you to grant me the same boon. Tell me why you’ve built a protective wall of stone around your heart?”