Page 107 of The Forest Bride

“Come with me,” he growled, dragging her across the turf and up a jumble of slate and stone and tree trunks. Below, the narrow river hurtled in cataracts toward the falls that roared not a hundred feet to the left. The sound was immense, the air filled with moisture. As she struggled on slippery, moss-covered rocks, she looked up.

And saw Duncan and Iain step out from a screen of trees just where the river swirled to pour over the cliff as the waterfall torrent. Duncan stepped forward, but stopped as his brother grabbed his arm in warning. Even across the distance, Margaret felt Duncan’s gaze meet hers and hold.

That glance fortified her. She pulled in a breath and straightened. Then she kicked De Soulis, trying to escape his grasp. He ignored her, hauling her along as he climbed. Glancing back, she saw Menteith and some of his men just reaching the gorge on foot. Sir John was clumsy and slow, hampered by his injured foot.

De Soulis dragged her toward the falls and the two men who stood near it. She stumbled again on slick stones. De Soulis yanked her up savagely, wrenching her arm and shoulder.

At that, Duncan moved forward again and set a foot on a stone. Then he took the bow from his shoulder, reached for an arrow, and nocked it.

“De Soulis! Let her go!” His shout was nearly drowned by the water’s roar.

“Duncan!” she screamed. De Soulis pulled her hard against him. Above, a sudden motion caught her eye. She looked up.

A white falcon glided over the treetops lining the other side of the river.

Chapter Twenty-Eight

Duncan gripped thebow, fingers itching to release the arrow, yet even an accurate shot might not free Margaret. His gyrfalcon could flee faster than the wind if she wanted. A quick glance showed Greta perched on a tall pine like a tiny angel. His other angel was held tight in De Soulis’s grip, with Menteith lumbering toward them and the wild falls treacherously close.

“What shall we do here,” Iain murmured. “Shoot that bow and stop this?”

“Not yet. We need to get closer so we can grab Margaret safe away.”

“And toss the rest of them in the deep.”

He kept his gaze sharp on Margaret, but some dark urge pressed him to kill the man in the instant. Steeling himself, he kept still. Menteith reached them then, three men behind him. He swiveled his glance to see the other knights hanging back on their horses, awaiting orders.

With luck, Con Murray would be on his way with a patrol of knights ready to reinforce Duncan and Iain. But he could not wait on that.

“De Soulis!” He powered his voice over the noisy falls. “Let her go!”

“Come get her!” came the reply. “She is mine now!”

“She is mywife! Let her go!”

“Wife?” Iain stared at him.

“Wife?” De Soulis shouted, then barked something at Margaret and shook her.

“Enough,” Duncan snarled. Raising the bow, he aimed and let the arrow loose to sail in a broad arc. It landed at De Soulis’s feet. A warning.

The man launched forward, dragging Margaret in a fierce grip. Menteith followed, shouting, the words unclear in the commotion of noise from the falls. Duncan spared a glance for Greta, who sat calmly. He wished she would fly away.

“Wife!” De Soulis yelled, advancing, Margaret stumbling beside him, Menteith limping after. His men came more slowly, looking confused.

“Tell him!” De Soulis shook her. “You gave me your promise!”

“I never did.” She twisted away but he set two hands on her now. She kicked him again.

“De Soulis!” Duncan reached to grab a second arrow, nocking it in a new warning. “We will annul it—or make you a widow!” De Soulis was shouting.

“That does not matter, you fool!” Menteith bellowed. “Where is the other girl?”

“The Bruce girl is safe,” Duncan called.

“At Brechlinn?” Menteith shouldered in front of Margaret to face Duncan. “We will claim her there! Go!Now!” he shouted, motioning to his men. They ran as if relieved to leave the falls and the threat from the bow.

“Menteith,” Duncan called, “you have no claim over Lilias!”