Page 14 of Highland Heroine (Brides of the Highlands #3)

Moira and Brodie fought with a ferocity born of righteous anger, their blades singing through the air as they cut down their opponents one by one. The remaining men, seeing their comrades fall, began to falter, their resolve crumbling in the face of the Highland warriors’ onslaught.

The last man standing, a hulking brute with a scar across his left eye, lunged at Brodie with a roar of fury. Brodie sidestepped the attack, his sword flashing out to slice the man’s sword arm. The brute howled in pain, his weapon falling from nerveless fingers.

Moira stepped forward, her blade leveled at the man’s throat. “Yield, ye coward, or meet yer maker.”

The man glared at her, hatred burning in his eyes, but he slowly raised his hands in surrender.

Brodie quickly bound the man’s hands behind his back, his grip firm and unyielding. “Who are ye, and why were ye attacking that lass?” he demanded, his voice low and dangerous.

The man spat at Brodie’s feet, his lip curling in a sneer. “I answer to no McClain dog,” he growled. “Ye think ye’ve won, but there are more of us out there, waiting to strike.”

Moira pressed the tip of her blade against the man’s throat, drawing a bead of blood. “Speak plainly, or I’ll send ye to meet yer fallen friends.”

The man’s eyes widened, a flicker of fear breaking through his bravado. “We’re just doing what we’re told,” he stammered. “The Stewarts pay us well to sow chaos in the Highlands, to weaken the clans from within.”

“The Stewarts,” Moira repeated, exchanging a grim look with Brodie. “They seek to divide us, to turn clan against clan.”

“Aye,” Brodie agreed, his grip tightening on the bound man’s arm. “And they use scum like this to do their dirty work.”

The captured brute glared at them, defiance still burning in his eyes despite his precarious position. “Ye think ye can stop what’s coming?” he sneered. “The Stewarts will rule these lands, and all who oppose them will fall.”

Moira’s blade pressed harder against the man’s throat, silencing his tirade. “We’ll see about that,” she said coldly. “But first, ye’ll tell us everything ye know about the Stewarts’ plans.”

The man’s eyes darted between Moira and Brodie, calculating his odds of escape or rescue. Finding none, he slumped in defeat, his bravado crumbling.

“Fine,” he spat. “I’ll tell ye what I know, but it won’t do ye any good. The Stewarts are too powerful, too cunning. Ye’ll never stop them.”

Moira and Brodie dragged the man back through the forest to the keep, the stag forgotten in the face of this new threat. As they emerged from the trees, curious eyes turned their way, taking in the bound prisoner and the grim expressions on the warriors’ faces.

Alisdair McClain strode forward, his brow furrowed with concern. “What’s this? Who is this man?”

“A Stewart lackey,” Brodie replied, shoving the man to his knees before Alisdair. “He and his men were attacking a young lass in the forest. We stopped them, but there’s more to it than just a random assault.”

Alisdair’s eyes narrowed as he studied the captive. “Speak then, ye filth. What do the Stewarts plot against us?”

The man glared up at the McClain laird, defiance warring with fear in his expression. “They plan to take these lands, to crush the Highland clans beneath their boot. They’ve infiltrated yer ranks, turned yer own people against ye. Ye’ll never see it coming until it’s too late.”

A murmur of unease rippled through the gathered crowd. Alisdair raised a hand for silence, his gaze never leaving the prisoner. “And what part did ye play in this scheme?”

“I was just following orders,” the man said, a hint of desperation creeping into his voice. “They told us to sow discord, to make the clans mistrust each other. To weaken ye from within so ye’d be easy pickings when the time came.”

Alisdair’s jaw clenched, his eyes flashing with barely contained fury. “And ye thought ye could attack an innocent lass as part of this plan? Ye’re naught but a coward and a fool.”

He turned to Moira and Brodie, his expression grim. “Take him to the dungeons. We’ll question him further, see what else he knows of the Stewarts’ treachery.”

As the prisoner was dragged away, Alisdair addressed the gathered crowd. “Let this be a warning to us all. The Stewarts seek to divide us, to turn us against each other. We must stand united, now…more than ever, if we are to weather this storm.”

Moira stepped forward, her voice ringing out clear and strong. “Aye, we must stand as one! The Stewarts think they can break us, but they underestimate the strength and spirit of the Highland clans. We’ve faced threats before and emerged victorious. This time will be no different.”

A cheer went up from the assembled crowd, fists raised in solidarity. Moira felt a swell of pride at their resilience and determination. They would not be cowed by the Stewarts’ schemes.

As the gathering dispersed, Moira turned to Brodie, her expression somber. “We must be vigilant, Brodie. The Stewarts have eyes and ears everywhere. We cannot trust anyone outside our closest allies.”

Brodie nodded. “Shall we go and retrieve our stag, and see if we can get another?”

Moira smiled, nodding. “That sounds like exactly what I want to do.”