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“He’s a bit hard tae miss,” Arne replied, still scanning the vessel.

“Aye, as big as a barn door. And that makes him an easy target.”

“True enough,” Arne agreed, wondering what he was getting at.

“He’s a right nasty bastard and all. D’ye ken who he is?”

“Nay.”

“His name’s Jethro Maddox, and he’s the right-hand man of Laird Struan MacDonald. They’re practically joined at the hip.”

“Is that so?” Arne said, regarding the giant with fresh interest as they drew nearer. The details of the man’s mutilated face became clearer. “He’s nae about tae win any beauty contests, that’s fer sure.”

“Aye. But ’tis his soul that’s really ugly. And it just so happens that I have a score tae settle with him. He killed me braither. But I’ve never had the chance tae get him where I could have a go at him.”

“What are ye suggestin’?” Arne asked, noticing the captain was gripping a wide-bladed knife in his fist.

“Well, I was thinkin’ that I might never get such a good chance as this, and I could give ye a hand tae get yer lassie back safe at the same time. The crew are nae gonnae try anythin’, so ye could take on the lanky one in the robes, and I’ll give Maddox a wee somethin’ tae keep him busy while ye get the lassie.”

“All right,” Arne agreed at once, hardly able to believe his luck. However, he had a feeling Maddox would threaten Raven’s life to make them leave without interference.

His belly churned in horrible expectation as they came up alongside theLady Anne. Maddox and his companion were mere yards away now, glowering at them, swords out. Arne recognized the man in the oilskin coat as the leader of the two men employed by MacDonald who had come to see Haldor, asking about Raven.Kirkwood. Jed Kirkwood,he recalled.

But he did not have time to think upon it further because just then, Maddox suddenly reached down between him and his companion and hauled up a slight bound and gagged figure into view by its hair. It spun there in the air like a spider’s dinner, all wrapped up and ready to be eaten.

Raven!A combination of terror and fury swept over him to see his love being brutalized in such a cruel fashion, and he swore vengeance on the man meting it out. He gripped the gunwale hard, his first instinct to leap over to the other boat to help her. But he stopped himself, knowing that would almost certainly guarantee Raven’s demise.

“Let her go, Maddox, and I’ll let ye and yer friend Kirkwood there go back tae yer master, ye dog!” he bellowed.

A hideous grin formed on Maddox’s ugly face. He pulled Raven up higher, his meaty fist wound cruelly in her hair. “I’ll slit her throat if ye dinnae turn around and leave us be, MacLeod. And then I’ll kill ye as well and feed ye tae the fishes,” Maddox roared across the divide, his deep, rumbling voice sounding to Arne as though the monster ate gravel for breakfast.

Arne’s heart plummeted. Maddox had the upper hand, and much as he might wish to leap over and fight him, by the time he got there, it would be too late for Raven. He wracked his brains to come up with a way of getting Maddox to let her go, or at least loosen his hold on her.

His brain was still spinning frantically, searching for a solution, when something completely unexpected happened. Something flew past his ear, and the next moment, there was a meaty thunk, and then he saw the handle of a blade sticking out of Maddox’s shoulder, embedded up to the hilt.

The giant roared in agony, dropping both Raven and his sword to the deck as he staggered backward, crashing into things haphazardly. Kirkwood stared at his companion open-mouthed, rooted to the spot, apparently too stunned to move.

In that spilt second, Arne noted with grim satisfaction that the crew of theLady Anneseemed spooked. The stringy-haired captain, and those with him, backed away to the stern, as far away as they could get. The men at the rowlocks dropped their oars to turn and stare at the unfolding events but made no move to intervene, clearly not seeming at all anxious to get involved in any fighting.

“Damn, I missed. I was aimin’ fer the bastard’s head, but that should hold him fer a while,” Arne heard Bosco say as if from the bottom of a well. Arne moved instinctively to capitalize on the moment of disruption.

He seized a rope from the rigging and swung across to theLady Anne, cannoning into Kirkwood with both booted feet. The man was taken by complete surprise. He let out a loud, “Oof!” as his feet flew out from under him. His weapon clattered to the deck, and he went skidding into a pool of Maddox’s blood.

While the two men were temporarily disabled, Arne wasted no time in rushing to Raven’s side. He ripped the gag from her mouth and said urgently, “Raven, me darlin’, are ye hurt?” As he spoke, he pulled out his dirk and began slicing through the ropes binding her ankles and wrists.

“I’m all right,” she gasped, pulling in air, tearing the bindings away in frantic relief as he cut them. “Thank ye fer savin’ me,” she sobbed, her face tear-streaked, white, and terrified. “I didnae think ye heard me screamin’ fer ye. He was takin’ me back tae Struan.”

“He’s nae takin’ ye anywhere now, ye’re safe,” he soothed her, but even as the words left his lips, her eyes flew wide, and she screamed and pointed at something over his shoulder, “Arne, watch out behind ye!”

Still in a crouch, he whirled on the balls of his feet to be confronted with a blood-soaked giant wielding a raised sword, which he was about to bring down on Arne’s head. Arne still had his dirk in his fist, and without hesitation, he punched it into Maddox’s belly, sending the giant tottering backwards until he crashed to the deck like a felled tree, still clutching his weapon.

Knowing they had to get out of there fast, Arne scooped Raven up and held her to his chest with one arm. With one fluid movement, he grasped a rope from the rigging and swung back to theKelpie Lass,where Bosco and the crew were cheering and clapping.

“Get us out of here, Captain,” Arne panted, but the birlinn was already carving out a wide, circular wake as it turned.

“Row, lads, row!” the captain yelled, and theKelpie Lasstook off, this time running parallel to the shore.

Arne slid down against the gunwale, holding Raven tightly, examining the red welts on her wrists and ankles with fury. “Have ye any other injuries?” he asked solicitously, rubbing at the welts.