Page 29 of Intrigued By A Highlander (Highland Revenge Trilogy #2)

CHAPTER 29

T he morning mist hung thick and low over Clan MacFadin, the scent of ash still lingering from the previous night’s fires. Knox stood at the keep’s door, his gaze sweeping the village. Tension lay coiled in his every movement.

He turned to Dru, his expression grim. “We need to find Brack and see if Callan’s men show any signs of stirring trouble.”

Dru nodded, taking hold of her husband’s outstretched hand.

“Stay close,” he ordered, not taking a chance of letting her out of his sight.

Dru stepped closer to him, so he would know she intended to do just that.

The heavy mist began to dissipate as they wound their way through the village Knox veering toward a path that led to the entrance.

Dru caught sight of Mara shooing Penn back inside their cottage, her hands trembling slightly.

Dru tugged at her husband’s arm. “I need to speak with Mara. She looks frightened.”

Knox looked toward the woman, then a short distance away to see Brack talking with two warriors. He nodded toward him. “Brack is right there. Join me when you are done and don’t take long.”

“I won’t,” she said and hurried to Mara.

Knox kept his eyes on her the whole time and took a stance by Brack where he could continue to keep his eyes on her.

“Mara?” Dru asked gently when she reached the woman. “Is something wrong?”

She forced a smile, but it wavered. “We all fear a battle. Talk is that the leader of the north clans will not let this go. And all know that there will be severe retribution to the entire village if Brack dared to surrender you to Callan. Death stalks us either way.”

Dru’s heart sank. “I am so sorry. This is all my fault.”

“Nay,” Mara said, shaking her head. “You are as innocent as all of us. You did nothing to inherit such vengeance. I never thought I would pray for Lord Torrance’s return, but now I do. He puts the fear of the Lord in the bravest of men, and the warriors who travel with him are a fierce lot. He would protect us.”

Dru reached out to give the woman’s hand a comforting squeeze just as a horn’s blare pierced the quiet. They both turned and saw it.

Smoke curled and rose from beyond the eastern ridge. It seemed no more than a distant fire as all eyes focused on it.

Then came the sound, a low, echoing crack of something unnatural followed by a beat of ominous silence.

Then an explosion.

It shattered the air, a deafening thunder that rolled down the hills and slammed into the village like a beast unleashed. Fire burst from the storage shed near the livestock pens, a roaring column of smoke and flame.

Screams followed. Warriors shouted. Livestock scattered. Complete chaos reigned.

Knox was already running toward Dru.

“Stay in your cottage,” Dru warned Mara and took off running toward Knox.

He’d barely taken a few steps when warriors poured out of the woods, overtaking the village in mere moments.

Knox’s blood ran cold. He had to get to Dru.

He drew his sword as warriors descended on him and he fought like a wild man slashing one after the other as he battled his way to Dru.

A group of riders suddenly charged from the opposite flank—silent, swift, and precise. MacFadin defenders scrambled, caught between the burning chaos and the sudden breach.

Knox battled harder, seeing his wife, ducking and slipping past warriors who grabbed for as she ran toward him.

A blow to his side knocked the breath from his lungs. Another came from behind. He swung wildly, cutting down one attacker, but more pressed in. He glimpsed Dru—fighting wildly to reach him.

“DRU!” he roared.

Two warriors slammed into her, driving her to her knees.

She screamed, not in fear but in fury for him, “KNOX!”

A warrior struck her temple with the hilt of his sword and his name died on her lips as she dropped to the ground.

Knox surged forward, blood in his mouth, rage in his heart. He didn’t feel the strikes that landed. He only saw his wife lying helpless on the ground as darkness claimed him.

Dru stirred against the cold earth, her body aching, her thoughts heavy and muddled. It took a moment before the weight of memory slammed into her—capture, struggle, the sound of Knox’s voice calling for her before it was cut off.

She jerked upright, her hands going to rest on the ground as a bout of dizziness hit her. Once she could focus, she tried to stand.

A boot nudged her shoulder roughly. “Stay down.”

Memories flashed in her mind. Callan’s men. The attack, Knox trying frantically to reach her. Darkness. She had been taken prisoner. But Knox would come for her. He would always find her no matter what. Her task was to stay alive, and if escape proved possible, take the chance.

She glanced around seeing far too many warriors to even think of escaping, at least for the moment. As she finished her perusal, she almost gasped. Not far from her, Knox lay on his side, unfettered and motionless. Fear gripped her like an iron band, not seeing the slightest movement. Was he dead? Had she lost him? She sent a silent prayer to the heavens not to take him from her.

She kept her eyes on him and caught the way his fingers flexed against the moss. Her heart fluttered as if skipping a beat. He was alive… and he was waiting.

Two warriors stood guard over him, laughing about something too low to hear. Dru watched, remaining silent, knowing her husband would not let either of them stop him from reaching her.

In one caught breath, he moved.

Surging up, Knox grabbed the nearest man by the shirt and slammed his head into the tree with a dull thud. The second had just enough time to widen his eyes before Knox’s fist connected with his jaw. The man dropped like a sack of grain.

Knox was beside Dru in two strides, lifting her and taking her in his arms.

“Are you hurt?”

“Just bruised. You?”

“Not enough to matter.”

A sharp shout cut through the woods. Callan emerged from the shadows, sword in hand, and his expression unreadable. More warriors surrounded them now, weapons drawn—but none approached.

Callan’s mouth curled into something almost like a smile.

“Let them be,” he ordered, voice cold. “They’ll be separated soon enough, and permanently.”

Knox growled low in his throat, pulling Dru behind him. She didn’t resist. His rage was a living thing, barely leashed, and she knew what it cost him not to lash out again.

“We’re not done, Callan,” Knox threatened.

“No,” Callan agreed, his gaze steady. “We’re only just beginning.”

Callan turned his back without another word, vanishing into the trees like a shadow, his warriors falling in behind him save for four who stayed behind to guard Knox and Dru from a distance. None spoke. None needed to. The message was clear… try anything, and it will end badly. Not for Dru since they needed her, but for Knox.

Knox shifted, angling his body just enough to shield Dru. She pressed close to him, needing his warmth, his strength, his love.

“We have to escape before it’s too late,” she whispered.

His lips barely moved. “Agreed.”

“They think you’ll behave with a blade at my back,” she said bitterly.

His jaw tightened. “Then we make sure they never get that chance.”

Dru leaned her head slightly toward his. “There’s four here but there could be more lurking close by. And where did Callan and his other warriors go? Why doesn’t he move us?”

“My guess would be that he attacked worried that he wouldn’t get his way and now he has to find a way to get us off Lord Torrance’s land before he learns about it.”

“I never thought I would pray for Torrance to find me,” she said, finding the situation ironic.

“Time is short for us and Callan. Some of Torrance’s warriors were bound to survive the attack. They will get word to him immediately. He’ll ride here with an army of men prepared to slaughter those who lifted a hand against him.”

She nodded, her eyes scanning without turning her head. “When do we escape?”

“Tonight, right after dusk, darkness will be a welcome protector.”

They fell silent, wrapped around each other, each counting the minutes, the trees around them suddenly seeming less like a forest and more like a trap waiting to be sprung.

As dusk neared, Knox whispered, “If we need to separate?—”

“Nay, we stay together,” Dru insisted, shaking her head. “I know what you’re thinking, that if you draw them away, I have a better chance of escaping. But that leaves you with a better chance of dying. I won’t have that.”

“It may give both of us a better chance of surviving. With only four guarding us, I can get rid of two easily then reach you to rid us of the other two.”

“Why do you have to make sense?” she asked, her stomach roiling at the prospect.

“Believe me, wife, I don’t want us to separate, but I do want us both to survive. So, we do what is necessary if we must.”

She understood the wisdom of his words. “Where should we meet if separated?”

“The stream where we stopped near the village before entering it. The spot where it flows the quietest.”

“I remember.”

“Then it is settled,” he said, hugging her close and kissing her, praying it wouldn’t be for the last time.

Darkness began to settle thick over the woods, broken only by the flicker of firelight and the low murmur of voices around it. Knox sat motionless beside Dru, legs folded beneath him, his posture loose and lazy to any casual eye. But she could feel the tension in him—like a bowstring stretched too tight.

Across the clearing, three warriors lounged around the fire, their conversation trailing into silence as one by one, they drifted into sleep, exhausted from battle.

Dru leaned close, her whisper barely a breath. “Now?”

Knox’s eyes scanned the camp again, slow and deliberate. “Not yet.” He nodded toward a tree.

A warrior sat guard about ten paces from them, his back against a tree, head drooping only to jerk up every few minutes with a startled snort. He was older, clearly a seasoned warrior. Yet he had been worn out from the battle, giving Knox an edge.

They waited.

Every heartbeat pounded in Dru’s ears, every crackle of the fire made her flinch. But eventually, the guard’s chin dropped and didn’t lift again. His breath deepened, soft and steady.

Knox moved then, silent as snowfall. He rose, crossed the distance in three fluid steps, and slipped behind the guard before he even stirred. A sharp twist. A soft crack and the body slumped to the side.

Dru was already on her feet, catching the fallen sword before it hit the ground. Her eyes met Knox’s. No words needed.

They slipped past the trees, weaving through shadow and root, careful not to stir a single branch. Dru kept close to Knox’s back, trusting his instincts even as every step stretched her nerves tighter. The camp faded behind them, the trees swallowing the firelight and sound.

They were nearly a safe distance when…

A shout rang out behind them.

“Run!” Knox barked, grabbing her hand, the unexpected sentinel spotting them and alerting the others.

They raced through the woods, feet pounding, branches lashing against them, and calls of pursuit grew louder.

Knox turned suddenly, pulling her behind a boulder. “Split. Meet where we agreed. Go!”

He shoved her gently, already turning to draw off the chase. She hesitated—just for a breath—then ran, praying they would reunite.

Knox made it a good distance before the blow came. A rock—thrown, not shot—caught him at the temple. He stumbled, dazed, blood trailing down his face. He kept moving, forcing his legs to carry him forward, deeper into the woods, drawing the warriors away from Dru.

But the night began to tilt sideways. The trees blurred. He dropped, knowing he didn’t have much time. His cheek rested against the damp, cold earth and he had just enough time to roll and conceal himself under a bush. His last thought before the dark swallowed him was of Dru, and the silent promise that he’d find her again.