Page 42 of The Highlander’s Iron Hold (Kilted Kisses #4)
CHAPTER NINETEEN
T he guard's hands were rough, shoving Morag forward with barely concealed irritation. "Move along, lass. Don't make this harder than it needs tae be."
She had been put in a another section of Fraser’s tent, separated by a flap, but it was impossible to escape as the area was heavily guarded inside and out.
"Let me go!" she raged. "Ye cowardly bastards! Let me go!"
"Fraser!" she yelled, her voice cracking with fury. " Colin will gut ye like a fish when he gets here!"
She screamed until her voice was hoarse.
Finally, her strength gave out. Morag slid to the dirt floor, her back pressed against one a wooden pole sustaining the structure. Her chest heaved as she fought to catch her breath, anger and desperation warring in her heart.
What are ye daeing, ye fool? Screamin’ and kickin’ like a child havin’ a tantrum is nae goin’ tae get ye out of here.
She closed her eyes, forcing herself to think clearly.
That's when she heard it—distant shouts echoing across the camp, followed by the unmistakable ring of steel on steel. Her heart leaped as she pressed her ear to the door, straining to make out the sounds of battle.
Men were yelling orders, horses whinnying, and underneath it all, the deadly song of weapons meeting in combat. The fighting had begun.
Colin. He’s come fer me.
Relief and terror flooded through her in equal measure.
But Fraser's words echoed in her mind.
Two hundred men, all waiting fer Colin Armstrong tae come charging tae the rescue. How many men could Colin possibly have brought? Thirty? Fifty at most?
Morag pushed herself to her feet, her eyes adjusting to the dim light filtering through the fabric of the tent. She wanted to peer out, to see what was happening.
She moved towards the guard that stood near the flap to enquire about what was happening.
"There is a battle out there. The fightin' is getting’ close tae camp. Ye need tae stay in that far corner, away from the here."
Morag could hear the battle sounds more clearly now with the door open—much closer than before. Steel clashed against steel, men roared battle cries, and she could swear she heard Colin's voice cutting through the chaos.
"Sounds like quite a fight," she said casually, watching the guard's reaction. "Are ye winnin’?"
"’Course we are. Armstrong's men are like ants before us. It'll be over soon."
Armstrong! He came fer me!
His voice, however lacked conviction she noticed, and Morag could see the fear in his eyes. She realized then that the other guards had left their positions, probably to go and help their companions.
Even though the man was clearly a seasoned soldier, something about this battle had him scared to death. Morag wondered what it was, and how long it would take her to find out.