“Friends, we are a’ grieved by the loss o’ our men yesterday. It was unnecessary, and we are the poorer for it. But let us no’ dwell on the grief for they were brave men tae try it, even though it was foolish. Let us take heart frae their courage and keep our spirits up. The rain has cleared, and in a day or two, we should be able to cross with care.”
As the morning progressed, the sun broke through the clouds, and their spirits rose. A team went out hunting, returning with the carcass of a young deer. The afternoon was spent butchering the animal, and as the evening drew on, they built a large fur and began to cook the meat. The rich smell of roasting venison filled the air and very soon the men gathered around the fire, laughing and joking once again. There was a good supply of wood to keep the fire burning and the meat roasting. When they passed the meat around, it tasted very good to folk used to living on travelling rations for several days.
The firelight lit the party that evening, and the stars came out in the sky above. Emily and Murdo laughed together, and when the whiskey was handed round in leather flasks, Emily took a swig. The rich, smoky liquor burned hot in her mouth, and she savoured the warm rush that the spirit gave her.
“That’s good!” she said, coughing as the liquor caught in her throat.
“Aye, ‘tis!” replied Murdo. “And there are few things better my love than freshly roasted venison and drams o’ fine whiskey by a fire. Wi’ ye at my side and my belly full, a dram tae hand and the men o’ my clan about me – och, man, I wouldnae trade places with the king himsel’!”
He laughed with sheer pleasure, a big, booming, free laugh, despite their worries and the threat of pursuit. Murdo was happy in the moment. She was laughing too and glancing around saw two figures entangled in each other’s arms.
“Look!” she whispered, tugging at Murdo’s arm. He looked around to see Alice and Ewan engaged in a deep and passionate kiss!
“Ah, that’s good! I am pleased for them.”
The evening passed pleasantly. They ate and drank and talked. A few of the men sang songs for the party as the fire burned low and some of the men started to roll themselves in their plaids for sleep. John Coll McGraw, who had disgraced himself some nights before had a rich and well-controlled voice and sang several songs for the party in the old native language of the Highlands. Emily did not understand the words, but the emotion struck her heart, and tears stung her eyes as she watched the big man facing the fire, his eyes closed, singing slow, deep, and sonorous.
It was Murdo who noticed Alice and Ewan slipping off toward The small tent, and nudged Emily at their departure. They smiled, and Emily had an idea that she would like to do the same. She looked up into Murdo’s eyes and saw the same thought. He raised one eyebrow and smiled wickedly. Without a word, they quickly rose and slipped away toward their tent. Nobody marked their departure.
Where their first time together had been full of tender exploration, they now knew each other better, and a hot passion replaced the hesitant and careful feeling of their first encounter. The little tent was well-equipped with soft woollen blankets, and they were hardly inside before they tore at each other’s clothing. His passion caught her off-guard, and she gasped in pleasurable surprise as he took her confidently by the hips and lifted her off her feet to kiss her mouth and neck.
She pulled at his clothes, untucking his shirt from his britches and lifting it up over his head. He raised his arms and the muscles in his chest and belly flexed hard and smooth against her. Then her mouth was on his magnificent torso, the scent of him intoxicating, and his groans of pleasure as much a thrill to her as were his hands, which threw aside the shirt and deftly lifted hers over her head. She stopped a moment to get clear of the last of her clothes and felt him slip his britches off too. They laughed a little together when he got entangled in them in the dark, falling on top of each other again and laughing with pleasure.
She put her hand on his chest to feel the soft hair covering his chest and running down like a small path toward his belly. His hands were on her back, exploring her thighs and her hips as she put her mouth to his torso to kiss his chest. Following the trail of soft, downy hair, she kissed the hollow between his ribs, the solid muscles of his flat belly, and then... He groaned as her mouth went lower, and then gasped as she kissed the warm hardness between his legs. His hands rested gently on her head as she took him into her mouth.
After a time, his breathing changed, becoming deep and quick. Shifting his position, he withdrew from her, flipping her over with a speed and gentle strength which made her cry out with delight. Without a word, he dropped his head between her legs, and gripping her firmly around the hips, he began to build her towards a wave of pleasure with careful strokes of his tongue. It did not take long, and as she gasped, giving soft voice to her climax, bright white lights unfurled behind her closed eyelids. As the wave crashed around her, she lay gasping and tingling in its wake whilst he slid effortlessly inside her. The sensation was almost too much, and she began to pull away, but then the feeling changed, and she could not wait to be filled by him, and she clutched at him, holding him tightly as he moved inside her with firm, rhythmic strokes.
When she responded by moving her hips against him, they moved in rhythm together, their breathing synchronised with the motion. She held onto him as he wrapped her in his strong arms and lifted her from the ground in his passion.
After a time, he began to breathe hard and deep, and she felt his hands clench her shoulders and then her back. He kissed her breasts, and she cried out with pleasure as his thrusts became deeper, and his hands held her hips tightly. The feeling welled to a peak, and she rode the wave, basking in the sensation.
She felt him gasp and cry out in pleasure. Deep within she felt his surge and the thought made her dissolve into a soft suffusion of pleasure and love. Her mouth found his and their deep kiss accompanied their climax. She felt him shudder, his groan of pleasure as she gasped and clenched around him. For a long moment, they floated together in a warm, bright, eternal void; the only two creatures in the universe.
She dozed but did not know how long for. When he coughed, she woke, but the languid feeling would not allow her to move quickly. She made a little inquiring sound and felt him smile and kiss her on the top of the head. She tried to speak, but the only sound she could manage was a satisfied groan, and he laughed, holding her tightly and lifting a blanket to cover them both. A warm, deep feeling of animal content filled her body, but as she lay with her head pillowed on his broad chest, the dangers and threats of their position began to trouble her mind.
She found herself thinking of the future. Would they make it back to the MacPherson lands in one piece? And if they did; what then? Would he have to go on fighting the English and leave her at home? She imagined herself alone in some draughty castle in a cold Highland glen. She sighed.
“What’s that for?” Murdo roused himself awake.
“Oh, I was thinking of the future. What will become of us, I wonder?”
“Ah, that I cannae say. But it will be weel for us if we get back tae Castle Corraig, the ancient home o’ my clan. There is a goodly town there, and many folk, old and young, live and work in the town and the castle. O’ course, it’s no’ been sae merry these last few years, whit wi’ the war an’ a’, but it’s a good place tae ca’ hame. But we’ll need tae get there first.”
There was a long silence while she processed this information. It gave her some comfort. Perhaps the war would be over soon, or at least Murdo’s part in it. Then they could live together at the castle and maybe even raise children there.
“And shall we be married there?”
“If I get my wish we shall be married in the house at Rowan Glen, the house at the border of the MacPherson lands where we are headed. It’s many days north o’ there tae get tae Castle Corraig, the seat o’ the clan but Rowan Glen is a pretty place and safe enough for us. I thought we would ask Faither Colum tae dae the ceremony? Whit dae ye think o’ that?”
> “His cough is getting worse,” she mused. “I fear for his health.”
“Aye, I hae noticed that too. Weel dae we ken in the Highlands that a cough taken in the rain can carry awa’ even a strong warrior in time, and he is an auld man. But I would hope that tonight’s fire and fresh meat will dae something tae...”
There was a gunshot outside.
“Whit the devil...?” Murdo leapt to his feet and grabbed at his britches, hauling them on in the dark and groping for his sword belt which he had dropped in their passionate entrance into the tent. Stunned for a moment, Emily grasped the blanket to her chest. Outside they could hear the rattle of gunfire, followed by hoarse cries and the clash of steel on steel. Murdo yanked his sword from its scabbard. “
Wait here!” He commanded Emily as he charged, bare-chested and barefooted into the night.
Chapter Fifteen
She did not wait. Pulling on her clothes in the dark was not easy, but she managed. Outside she could hear Murdo shouting orders and the other men replying amidst the clash of arms. She was dimly aware the rain had started again, pattering on the outside of the tent and distorting the sounds of the conflict outside. Pulling on her undergarments, tunic, tattered riding skirt and boots, she paced around the edge of the dark tent and found her knife in its sheath. Gripping it hard, she slipped out into the night.
The scene before her was one of chaos. The only light came from the fire at the centre of the camp, smokey and giving out a dull light; the watchmen having flung fuel on it when they realised the camp was under attack and rather than lighting up the area it had only dampened the blaze. Rain was falling heavily, running in her eyes and making the grass underfoot slippery and wet. Against the light of the fire, dark shapes of men ran back and forth, and the sounds of the clashing of arms filled the air.
As Emily tried to get her bearings a ragged volley of musket fire flashed from the hilltop. She ducked as something whizzed through the air near her head, before hearing a yell of pain and a thud nearby.
“Tae me! Tae me, my clansmen!” Murdo’s voice boomed out through the tumult, and she saw him silhouetted against the fire, his sword raised. The men around him rallied to his call.
A hand grabbed her by the arm, and she whirled, knife raised to strike, but it was Alice’s frightened face that met her eyes.
“Alice!” she said in a choked whisper.
“Come this way!” Alice tugged at her arm, and Emily followed without question.
“Ewan has gone intae the fighting. He said tae get awa’ frae the crowd ‘afore the blows began.”
Away from the glaring light of the fire, they found that their eyes adjusted and they could see one another better. They looked each other up and down. Like Emily, Alice’s hair was loose and her clothing rumpled, and despite the peril, her eyes were bright, and she smiled.
“Our men willnae be beaten here. See how the attackers charge messily, and cannae bring their guns tae fire in the rain? They arenae the English soldiers – the army doesnae fight like that.”
Emily watched, realising that her friend correct. The assailants were undisciplined, and from the sound of the voices and the nearby cheers, it sounded as if the MacPhersons and McGraws already had the better hand. It was not long before Ewan came seeking them out. When he reached them, Alice threw herself into his arms. Holding his sword away from her, they kissed with abandon.
They walked back to the fire together. The wood was now blazing brightly and illuminated a large circle around it. Murdo came over to them, followed closely by Neil McGraw.
“Are ye baith unharmed?” he peered closely at Ewan.
“Aye,” said Alice, “we are fine. Whae were they men whae attacked us? No’ English soldiers, that’s clear.”
“No, no, they were not. I dinnae ket whae they are though?”
“I dae,” said Neil McGraw. “They are bandits whae infest the border country around these parts. They are lawless men, abiding by the rule o’ nae clan and live by the plunder they take frae travellers on the nearby roads. They live a hard life in the hills roundabout, and they are vicious but no’ disciplined. They obviously didnae think tae meet wi’ much resistance here, and they fled as soon as a few o’ their number were killed.”
Murdo looked thoughtful. “Aye, but they may be back. We must sleep nae mair this night.”
* * *
Dawn came grey and cold, and mist rolled up the glen behind them, filling the woodland beyond the river with a cold, impenetrable veil. The rain eased, and Murdo returned to the river at first light with Emily to check the water level.
“I put a stick in the ground when we arrived so we may gauge how far the level o’ the water has sunk since our arrival.”
He pointed to the thick stick hammered into the bank, and sure enough, the water had receded. Perhaps two feet of muddy ground lay between Murdo’s stick and the flowing water.
“There, ye see? This is how far the water has receded. But it’s still no’ anywhere near safe for the horses. Och man, this is a bad situation.”
“You think they will come back?”
“Aye, I dae think it likely. But I think they might take a walk down tae yon road and find an English officer tae sell information tae. These clanless men hae nae scruples and would sell a fellow Highlander as soon as look at ye. If they ken the English soldiers are in the neighbourhood it willnae tak’ long for them tae mak’ the connection between them and us.”
“But the water is too deep! There’s no way we can get the horses and all the baggage across.”
“Ye are right more’s the pity, nae way that I can see at least. I might swim it at a push, but maist o’ the others here couldnae. I cannae think whit tae dae.”
There was a long silence while they both stared at the mussy brown flow of water that churned smoothly past before gathering speed and plunging over the fall. As she looked at the flowing water, an idea formed in Emily’s mind. It was terrifying, but it might just work.
“What if...” she stopped, reluctant to carry on.
“Aye?” he asked eagerly. “Whit if whit? Come on, Emily, if ye hae any idea at a’ it will be welcome.”
“Well,” she began again, emboldened by his confidence, “what if you were to swim across, but we were to anchor you on this side with a long rope. Then if you lost control of your passage, we could haul you back safely. If you can make it across, you can tie the rope off on the other side. Then the others could cross using the rope.”
She looked doubtfully at the dark brown water.
“It would not help with the horses, but even I could cross with such a bridge if we made it as far up from the waterfall as possible.”
Murdo was nodding slowly.
“My dear, I think ye may have hit upon the answer. Aye, it’s a risk, that’s for sure, but I’m thinking it’s no’ as much o’ a risk as waiting here for the raiders tae return or for Clairmont and his men tae arrive and line up on yon ridge tae use our camp as target practice for their firing drill. No, it’s a desperate hope, but I think we’ll hae tae chance it.”
He looked at her, and his dark eyes shone with love for her. Putting her arms around his waist, he held her for a long moment, his face buried in her hair.
“I love ye, Emily,” he whispered.
“And I love you, Murdo,” she replied.
* * *
“I dinnae like it,” James shook his head. He had listened to their plan for crossing the river and now sat on the ground, shaking his head and glaring from the swollen river below them to the empty ridge above.
“I dinnae like it one little bit, and that’s the truth o’ it.”
“Neither dae I faither, but whit else is there tae dae? Either we go back tae the road and run the risk o’ being caught by English soldiers, or we cross here. There’s nae other option.”
“Damn these falls,” muttered James. He turned to Emily, “ye think ye can dae this lass, wi’ the rope? Ye think ye can cross?”
Emily nodded
slowly. “Yes, I think so, though I like it no more than you do, Mr MacPherson, particularly as it requires my prospective husband to risk himself first. But what other choice do we have? As Murdo says, if it’s either this or go back to the road, then surely this is better.”
“Weel, weel,” he muttered, “whit ye say is true.” He glanced up at the sky.
“There’s mair rain on the way, or my name’s no’ James MacPherson. Murdo, if ye’re going tae try this brave deed, ye better get on wi’ it wi’out delay. Dae we have a rope long enough?”
One was found among the baggage, a long, thick, heavy twined hemp rope which Murdo wrapped around his waist and tied before handing the other end to his father.
Fighting For A Highland Rose (Defenders 0f The Highlands Book 1) Page 11