Page 5 of Jack (Highland Outlaws #1)

JACK CHARGED THROUGH the woods with his four brothers trailing just behind.

They had been tracking the Redesdale carriage for nearly three miles, waiting for the flat landscape to give way to a hill from which they could descend upon their prize.

Having at last reached a wooded slope, Jack galloped to the top and signaled for them to don their masks.

They had moved ahead of the carriage, but it was almost upon them.

He leaned low in his saddle. The thrill of the catch set his heart to race.

Moisture beaded against the fabric of his mask as his breath quickened.

He raised his fist in the air, preparing his brothers to attack.

Once his fist swung down, they would be unleashed like a furious black storm upon the unsuspecting English nobles.

The carriage was almost in position.

Just a short distance to go.

He started to lower his fist, but then he froze as a humbly dressed man with sword raised high suddenly burst onto the road in front of the carriage. The driver of the carriage jerked on the reins. Then the man sprinted to the other side of the road and disappeared into the woods.

“Who’s he?” Rory asked.

“I do not ken,” Jack answered absently as he watched one of the Redesdale guards chase after the swordsman. Then another man suddenly appeared, running close to the carriage before darting out of sight.

The carriage swerved.

“What’s going on?” Rory blurted.

Before Jack could answer, a great crack rent the air as a tree plunged toward the earth.

Itfell with a thud in front of the carriage.

The driver pulled hard on the reins, but it was too late.

The wheels crashed into the mighty trunk and splintered into pieces.

When Jack drew his next breath, more than a dozen armed peasants ran out from the woods with swords raised high and attacked his prize.

“Blast!” He threw up his hands and let loose a string of curses.

“Jack, what’s our move?” Quinn asked.

Jack shook his head. “We have no move. Those thieves stole our prize.”

Rory tore off his mask. His blue eyes shone brightly. “Mayhap they’re like us, Scottish rebels. ‘Tis as Bishop Lamberton predicted. Our people are once more ready to fight!”

“And look at how well they do against guards on horseback,” Ian said eagerly.

Jack shot a glance back at his youngest brother. Ian’s long red hair hung in tangled disarray.

“Cover back up, lads. I want a closer look.”

Jack eased his horse further down the slope to watch the skirmish.

The peasants were, indeed, making surprising progress.

Three guards had been slain. He did not doubt that the others would soon be overwhelmed.

Leaning forward in his saddle, he eyed the ragged gang.

Their humble clothing bore the wear of toil, but their broad shoulders and thick waists belonged to men who did not know scarcity.

Jack shook his head. “Look at their swords. Those aren’t the weapons of farmers?”

“What does it matter?” Rory said. “They’re fighting the English and winning!”

Jack’s eyes narrowed on the scene below. “Something isn’t right.”

Quinn nodded. “Look at the skill with which they fight.”

“They’re not peasants,” Jack said with certainty.

His brothers fell silent as the last guard was pulled from his horse. Several blades glinted in the sun before the tips were plunged into the wretch’s belly.

“’Tis done then,” Jack murmured. “Whoever they are, they’ve won the day,”

He was about to turn away, but then a woman suddenly tumbled out of the carriage, wearing finery that spoke of great wealth. Again, he cursed their luck. Whatever fortune she carried with her should, by rights, be theirs. They had, after all, tracked the carriage for miles.

“I don’t like this,” Ian said, drawing Jack’s gaze.

Jack watched as his youngest brother slid off his horse.

“What are they going to do with her?” Ian asked before moving further down the hill and crouching behind a thick tree. “I can’t see her anymore,” he called back.

“Ian, ‘tis nothing,” Jack assured him. “She’s in no real danger. Whoever these brigands are, they will not harm her, not when they can ransom her for a sizable fortune. Come along, all of ye. The lady is no longer our affair. We certainly cannot rob her now. We’ll have to fill Scotland’s coffers on another day. ”

Jack urged his horse around, but then a sob rented the air. He looked back. Men were tearing at her clothes. Her scream of terror raked up his spine. “Perhaps I spoke too soon.”

“Scottish rebels or not, we cannot allow them to hurt her,” Quinn cried.

Rory jumped to the ground. “Jack, we must do something!”

Jack watched as the lady’s veils were ripped away, revealing tear-stained cheeks and wide, fearful eyes. “Damnation,” he cursed under his breath.

She stood for everything he despised in the world, and yet they couldn’t stand by while she was brutalized by a band of Godless ruffians.

Ian implored him. “For the love of all things decent, Jack!”

Jack wheeled his horse around. “Mount up, lads. We’ve an English lady to save.”