Highland Champion

by Hannah Howell

  As Liam and Malcolm left a room where there now rested two dead men, they met up with Sigimor. Pausing only to send a woman to where Joan and the others hid, Liam then turned to his cousin. Sigimor’s dagger was bloody, but he looked so calm that no one outside would believe the man had been creeping through the halls of the keep killing. Liam suspected Sigimor felt it was all a justified punishment, and one that was long overdue.

  “I cannae believe no alarum has sounded yet,” said Sigimor.

  Sigimor had barely finished speaking when a half-naked man dripping blood from a shoulder wound stumbled out of a room yelling out a warning to Rauf and his men. Liam looked at Sigimor and shrugged. Muttering about fools who could not even silence an unarmed, sleeping man, Sigimor strode toward the wounded man. Liam heard his cousin ask the man if he surrendered. The man’s reply was grossly profane as he struggled to unsheathe his dagger. Sigimor killed the man with one clean thrust of his dagger. He then stood there, spread his arms wide, and let out a battle cry that caused Malcolm to jump, then mutter a few curses in an unsteady voice.

  “The mon has a fine set of lungs,” Malcolm said.

  Liam laughed even as he listened to the results of the alarum and Sigimor’s battle cry. No more was there only a whisper of sound as Keira’s army slipped through the halls. Now one could hear the sound of running feet, men calling out to others to join them, and then, finally, the sounds of swords clashing. Now the battle had truly begun.

  “Keep Malcolm close,” Sigimor ordered. “That bastard may have left a few of the MacKail men alive, and we will need him to recognize them. Dinnae want to kill the wrong men. Now let us hunt down Rauf the Rat.”

  “Your cousin is a wee bit odd, isnae he?” murmured Malcolm as he and Liam hurried to keep up with Sigimor.

  “Och, aye, just a wee bit. I warn ye, if ye e’er meet his wife, ye will fall over in shock.”

  “Ah, then she isnae some large, buxom warrior woman.”

  “Nay, a wee, black-haired Sassanach.” Liam had just enough time to laugh at the wide-eyed shock on Malcolm’s face before the battle began in earnest.

  It soon became clear that Rauf Moubray’s men had been trained to do one thing well—protect Rauf Moubray. While others dealt with the men in the bailey or upon the walls, Liam joined Ewan, Sigimor, Malcolm, Sir Ian, and a few others in cutting down anyone who tried to stop them from reaching Rauf. The few people they met who were of Ardgleann were shielded until they could flee the danger. Sigimor sent them to Sir Archie, and Liam sent them to Kester and Joan.

  Liam confronted one of Rauf’s men within feet of the entrance to the great hall. With Malcolm guarding his back, Liam fought relentlessly, slowly driving the man back one step at a time. As they passed through the doorway, Liam stumbled slightly and heartily cursed his still somewhat weak right leg. That awkwardness could have cost him dearly, except that the man he was fighting also faltered, stumbling over the huddled body of a terrified child. Screeching out a vicious curse, the man raised his sword, clearly intending to kill the child. Even as Liam hurried forward, knowing he would be too late, a knife buried itself in the man’s throat. The child cried even harder as the man’s life’s blood came pouring out, and he collapsed, dead at the feet of the child he would have murdered. Liam looked at Malcolm, unable to hide his surprise.

  “I thought ye said ye were no warrior,” he said as Malcolm calmly retrieved his knife.

  Malcolm shrugged. “I can only wield a sword adequately. However, I am verra good with a knife.”

  “So I see.” Liam suddenly saw the man they all wanted to kill standing at the far end of the great hall behind eight well-armed men. “See that the child gets to safety, Malcolm.”

  “I should watch your back,” Malcolm said.

  Glancing back at the doorway, Liam saw Ewan, Sigimor, Sir Ian, and Keira’s brothers standing there. “No need to worry about that now. See the child safely away, and come back if ye are eager to join the fight.”

  Malcolm nodded, grabbed the child, and hurried out of the great hall. Liam started toward Rauf and his men, hearing his allies quickly step up behind him. He knew what the positioning meant. Once Ardgleann was free, he would be laird here, and they were signaling that fact by this show of deference. The look that crossed Rauf’s broad face told Liam that that man understood it, too.

  “Do ye surrender?” Liam asked, halting just out of sword reach of Rauf and his men, although it did not look as if Rauf intended to be at the fore of this fight.

  “And just who are ye? What right do ye have to come and take what is mine?” demanded Rauf.

  “Sir Liam Cameron. I have married Lady Keira Murray MacKail.”

  “That bitch is still alive?”

  “If ye are thinking of surrendering, it might be wise to cease insulting my wife.”

  “I will do more than insult her! If I e’er get my hands on the little whore, I will kill her—slowly! Look what she did to my face!”

  Liam hid his surprise when he looked at the ragged scar on Raul’s left cheek. Keira had said she had struggled with the man. She had never mentioned the fact that she had torn open half his face. He was going to have to teach her to be a little more specific when she told him things, he decided, then smiled coldly at the man he so badly wanted to kill.

  “I will ask ye but once more—do ye surrender?”

  “Nay! Kill them!” Rauf ordered his men.

  As the men moved forward, Rauf grabbed the backs of two men’s jupons and held them in place in front of him like a human shield. Liam was surprised Rauf did not see that he had just robbed himself of the one small advantage he had—his eight men against their six. He then turned all of his attention upon the man he must now fight in order to get to the one he really wanted.

  The man who confronted him proved to have little skill, and Liam quickly dispatched him. He looked around to see if any of his allies needed assistance and, for a brief moment, marveled at their skill. Keira’s brothers were surprisingly skilled, even graceful, as they went about their deadly work. Then, even as Liam was turning back to face Rauf, one by one, Moubray’s men died. The two left standing with Rauf realized they would be sacrificed next, and a thin coat of sweat appeared on their pale faces.

  “Cease cowering behind those fools, and face me,” demanded Liam.

  “Oh, nay, I think not,” Rauf said and laughed softly.

  “’Ware your backs!” cried Ewan, even as he turned to fight the man rushing at him from behind.

  Cursing, Liam found himself locked in a fierce battle, he and his allies outnumbered almost two to one. It was only a matter of moments before Keira’s cousins and a few MacFingals arrived, but Liam knew that help had come too late. When the last of Moubray’s men lay dead, Liam looked to where Rauf had once stood, but he was not surprised to find the man had fled.

  He started out of the great hall determined to find the man, pausing only long enough to send Keira’s brothers and Sir Ian to the room Sir Archie held for them. “The bastard may weel ken where at least one escape route is. As Sir Archie said, he is the sort to be sure he has one,” he told them, then with Sigimor and Ewan right behind him, he raced to where Kester and the women were hiding, Malcolm appearing at his side even as they started down the steep steps leading to the bowels of the keep.

  They had barely started down the stairs when they heard a lot of screaming. Liam raced down the steps, ignoring the increasing pain in his leg. When he stumbled into the storage room, he felt his heart sink. They were too late. Rauf’s two men lay upon the ground, but Rauf was gone. Even though he knew it was useless, he tried to open the door, but the man had bolted it from the other side.

  “We can break it down,” said Sigimor.

  “That will take too long.” A quick look at Rauf’s two men revealed that they were dead, and Liam realized the screaming they had heard had been born of fury, not fear. “Jesu,” he whispered as he suddenly knew without a single doubt which way Rauf was headed. “Keira.”r />
  CHAPTER 18

  “Do ye think the battle is o’er yet?” asked Meggie as she wrapped a blanket around herself.

  “’Twould be nice if it was over so quickly. E’en nicer if none of the men were hurt or killed. ’Tis verra hard to sit here and just wait.”

  “My father says that be why women have a more patient, sweeter nature than men.”

  “Because we must just sit and wait for our men to return from battle?”

  “Aye, that and other things. Women do a lot of waiting.”

  “True enough. Yet mayhap God gave women a more patient, sweeter nature so that we dinnae strangle all the men.”

  Keira chuckled when Meggie giggled so hard she tumbled over sideways. The girl had proven to be good company, helping her to keep the worst of her fears from overwhelming her. Meggie had a very quick mind as well as a lot of spirit and courage. Keira was determined to nurture that once she returned to her place as the lady of Ardgleann.

  Looking around the deserted camp, Keira shivered slightly. It surprised her that not one man had remained behind to guard the supplies and the horses or even to watch over her and Meggie. She felt certain Liam, Sigimor, or Ewan would have wanted that. Even her brothers would have wanted at least one armed man here. Either someone had disobeyed orders, or in the confusion of rushing off to battle, those orders had never been given. It was too late to worry about that now, she thought. She just hoped no one suffered too badly for what she was sure had been just a simple mistake.

  Meggie yawned and, staying curled up on her side, wrapped the blanket more securely around herself. “’Tis so verra quiet, isnae it?”

  “Aye, and ye are so verra tired. Rest, lass. Ye have worked hard this day.”

  “I should keep ye company in your waiting.”

  “Ye have done a fine job of it, but rest now. I dinnae think it will be verra long now until we hear of what has happened. I have confidence in the wit and skill of our men, for all I cannae stop worrying about them. No need of ye suffering for my foolishness the whole night long. And if I should wake ye and tell ye to go hide, do it without question.”

  “Aye, I will, m’lady. I am verra good at hiding.”

  A weary smile crossed Meggie’s face, and a moment later, the girl was asleep. Keira sternly told herself it was foolish to suddenly feel so all alone. The girl had worked hard, and all of it to their benefit. Although barely more than a child, Meggie had seen terrible things, yet she had retained the courage and wit to help where she could and to recognize the chance for Ardgleann’s salvation when it came. It astonished Keira that although the girl had been able to flee the keep at any time, she had stayed in the hope that rescue would come so that she could show them the way inside. When Ardgleann was free, Keira was determined to make sure everyone knew what an important part the cooper’s daughter had played in it all.

  In fact, she thought with a little smile, if they won the fight against Rauf, they owed it, in large part, to three very unlikely heroes. A boy who was as clumsy as any she had ever seen, an aging warrior who was as good as blind, and a thin girl. If anyone had told her before the battle that such people would be so important, Keira knew she would have thought them mad. When they won the battle, she hastily corrected herself, immediately fighting back any hint of uncertainty. Keira knew she had to cling to such confidence, or she would become frantic with fear and worry.

  She turned her thoughts to Liam in an effort to stop thinking about what was happening within the walls of Ardgleann. It was almost frightening how much she loved the man. Putting restraints upon that feeling had proved utterly fruitless. The best she had done was keep herself from telling him several times a day. She was not sure how much longer she could keep those words locked up inside her. They rushed into her mouth every time he even smiled at her.

  He was a good husband, just as Fiona had said he would be. Although he had all the usual manly faults, he tempered them with kindness and understanding. When he gave an order, he did not expect her to leap at his command; instead, he explained himself and even allowed her to argue with him. Even better, he truly listened to what she had to say. Keira had no doubt that he would be a good laird for Ardgleann, working hard to provide for and protect all who would depend upon him.

  He was also a wondrous lover, one who promised to be hers alone. And that, she mused, was one thing that could still cause her a few doubts no matter how often she told herself that it was unfair to him, that she judged him guilty before he had even committed the crime. Yet she could not stop herself from wondering just how long a man could resist temptation when it was constantly thrust into his path. Women were drawn to Liam like bees to clover, and she feared her whole life would now be spent constantly pushing aside adoring, willing women. Even worse was the knowledge that she could not always be there to push them away.

  “If only I kenned how he felt about me,” she whispered as she added a few sticks to the fire.

  That was the true crux of her problem, she decided. Liam desired her, of that she no longer had any doubt, and it had soothed a lot of the hurt Duncan had unwittingly dealt her. Unfortunately, she was far too aware of the fact that a man’s desire did not have to be bred in his heart. Liam had certainly bedded a lot of women, yet he claimed he had had no true attachment to any of them. How a man could be so intimate with a woman he cared little for, she did not know, but it was a truth she could not argue with.

  Taking a sip of wine from Liam’s wineskin, Keira decided to look very carefully at what she was sure of. She was alone for the first time in weeks, except for a sleeping Meggie, and it was a perfect time to sort out a few things in her mind. He was possessive of her, she realized. Though it was true that men could be possessive of a favorite tankard, Liam’s possessiveness concerning her should not be ignored completely. He enjoyed her company. Of that she had no doubt. He talked with her, discussed many things, and never acted as if he thought her poor woman’s mind was too weak to understand. Even her grandmother had stressed the importance of that. He was always touching her and giving her kisses. Keira blushed as she thought of how he made love to her. Despite his past, she could not believe that he could be so tender, so concerned that she find pleasure too, then hold her close all night if he did not feel something more than simple desire.

  A sound caught her attention, yanking her out of her thoughts. Someone was running hard, straight for the camp. Since sound could carry far distances in the night, Keira could not judge how close the person was. She shook Meggie awake.

  “Hide. Now,” she ordered.

  It astonished Keira when Meggie not only did as she was told, but also did it so very quickly and efficiently. One moment, the girl had been sound asleep; the next, she had completely disappeared into the darkness. Leaping to her feet, Keira sought a place to hide herself, one far away from Meggie. Even as she started for a tree at the far corner of the camp, thinking to climb it and conceal herself amongst the leaves, she knew she had lost her chance.

  A man stumbled into the camp, and for a moment, Keira did not recognize him in the shadows. Then he laughed, and she felt a deep chill flow through her body. It was Rauf Moubray. Keira beat down the blind impulse to run for her life. It would gain her nothing, except giving Rauf a chance to grab her from behind, something he would heartily enjoy.

  “So I finally have fate smile upon me this night,” he said. “Not only have I found ye, but horses and supplies as weel.”

  “Ye wouldnae be running through the wood like a frightened hare if ye hadnae lost the battle,” she said. “Since ye are obviously so eager to save your own miserable hide, I suggest ye keep on running.”

  Keira watched his cold eyes narrow and his lips draw back in a silent snarl. It was, perhaps, pure madness to speak so insultingly to the man, but she doubted it would make any difference to her fate in the end. He may not have run this way expecting to find her, but now that he had, she had no doubt that he would kill her. She could only try, in some small way, to ma
ke it difficult for him and pray that he was in too great a hurry to save his own life to linger over the deed. Just thinking about how cruelly he had killed others made her so afraid that she felt her stomach rise up into her throat, and she fought the urge to be ill. It might be passingly enjoyable to vomit on the man, but she knew he would recognize that to be the result of terror, and she refused to let him know how afraid she was.

  “Och, nay, nay, my wee black-haired bitch,” he said, his voice hard and cold. “Ye and I have a debt to settle between us.”

  “Debt? What debt? Ye think I owe ye something for slaughtering my husband and many of his people? For nay allowing ye to rape me? In public? If there is any debt atween us, ’tis all yours for ye have stolen from me. Sadly, since most of what was stolen is the lives of those dear to me, it can ne’er be repaid, except with your death.”

  “Ye should be dead, ye whore!”

  “Oh? Weel, I do so beg your pardon for nay dying from the wounds ye dealt me.” Keira found it both amazing and intriguing that as Rauf grew more enraged, she grew more chillingly calm.

  “And look what ye did to my face!”

  The ragged scar on the side of his face nearly made her wince. She could still recall his scream of rage and pain and the smell of blood as she cut his cheek open with a dagger. Keira dearly wished she had that dagger now. As a healer, the act of hurting someone, of spilling blood, was sickening, but she was more than willing to do this man some injury. She only had to think of poor Duncan, of the men hanging from the walls of Ardgleann, and of the sad fate of the women trapped within the keep to feel absolutely, coldly murderous.

  “’Tis an improvement, if ye ask me.”

  That proved to be one insult too many. Keira barely had time to notice that he drew neither his sword nor his dagger before he was on her. The feel of his body slamming into hers, followed by her body hitting the ground hard, robbed her of breath. She fought to get some air back into her lungs, almost uncaring of the hands cruelly mauling her. When she could finally breathe, she realized that her hands were free, and she started punching Rauf in the head. He actually endured several hard blows with no more than a grunt before he reacted to them.