Page 12 of The Rightful Highland King (The Last Celtic King #4)

Chapter Seven

The village was in sight, and Ansel felt the weight of what he was about to do so heavily that he was surprised that his horse did not sink into the ground below him.

He cleared his mind as best he could, determined to focus on the victory to come rather than the reasons for what they were doing.

The laird of this clan was another half-day's ride away with his family, but this village was the main hub of Clan Macrae, and if they took it out, they'd send the message more effectively than attacking the stronghold.

Then, if Laird Macrae did not come crawling back to the king's side, they'd dispatch him too.

He wished Baldric was with him, but his cousin had said he had work to do at the castle. Ansel assumed that the king had required something of Baldric, and he had not dared to question it. He'd already been warned off enough, and anyway, he was sure he'd find out when he returned home.

They stopped just at the top of the hill that led down to the gates of the village. He cast his eyes over the thatched roofs, wondering at the lives that might live within it.

"Nessa," he said, getting down from his horse and helping her down as well. "Ye will wait here with the horses. Ruadh and Wullie will stay here as yer guards. Ye'll obey his commands so long as they are within reason, understood?"

Nessa blinked. "I thought I was tae come closer tae the action today," she said.

"Ye can see perfectly fine from up here. In fact, ye may even have a better view from this angle than ye would close up," Ansel replied firmly.

Nessa bowed her head. Ruadh and Wullie got down from their own horses and got into place while the rest of the men dumped any supplies they had brought and prepared for the battle.

"We're about tae begin," Ansel announced.

"And there will nae be a repeat of what happened at Clan McIntyre.

That was a waste of land and of life. Ye will follow me lead , ye understand?

We are only tae kill those who fight back against us.

Women and bairns are tae be captured, as are any men who lay down their arms. We are here as conquerors, nae executioners. "

Many of his men nodded in agreement, but there was a murmur of discontent from several. One of them, a confident young man named Nicol who was a favorite of the king, spoke up. He was something of a chosen leader amongst the soldiers who were most loyal to Edric.

"We're here tae send a message on His Majesty's orders," Nicol argued. "Let's wipe this village from the earth, then when Laird Macrae comes tae beg, slaughter him as well. Our king is too powerful for pity."

Ansel shot him a level look. "It isnae about pity , Nicol. It's about strategy. Slaughterin' unarmed men and the innocent isnae the move of a good strategist, it's the move of a brute."

"Then let us be brutes," Nicol snarled. "If that's what it takes tae stamp out the rebel scum for good."

"Eejit," Ansel snapped, his patience already thin. "Dinnae be such a fool. Every drop of unnecessary blood spilled is another drop in the cup of revolution. Dinnae ye understand that? The more we oppress them, the harder they fight."

"They cannae fight back if they're dead!" Nicol insisted, and a few men on his side cheered.

"Dinnae talk tae yer prince that way!" one of Ansel's more loyal men retorted. A few others shouted out in his defense.

The argument started to escalate, shouting on each side getting louder, each insisting, anger flowing around them. Ansel reared up his horse, shouting for them to stop. In the surprised silence that followed, he spoke more firmly than before.

"We attack now . Ye obey me. And we win. Understood?" he commanded.

"Aye, Yer Highness," many of his men said as one.

Ansel met Nicol's eyes. "Understood?" he repeated softly.

Nicol looked away first. "Aye," he replied. "Yer Highness."

Pretending not to notice the resentment in the man's voice for now, Ansel turned his horse around to face the village. With one last glance back at Nessa, he set off, hearing the thundering of his men as they followed behind him.

They raced down the hill and through the gates of the village, Ansel's mind whirling with what he would do. He would target the leaders; probably he would have to kill a few of them as they would definitely fight back, but he hoped that?—

Something was wrong.

As his men spread out across the village, kicking in the doors of houses and shouting for the residents to come out into the open, Ansel stayed frozen in the middle, watching around him.

His stomach swooped as the reality hit him, and his understanding of the world suddenly got flipped on its head.

There was no screaming. No fighting. No noise or movement at all.

The village was empty.

Nessa sat on the grass, staring bleakly down toward the village, her breath catching in her chest as she waited for the battle to begin. She could feel her two guards watching her.

"Ye dinnae need tae watch," Ruadh said with a fumbling awkwardness to his tone.

She turned to look at him—he was young with blazing red hair and freckles and wide blue eyes.

He didn't look like he should be involved in such things as warfare.

Perhaps that was why Ansel had left him behind. "Ye can look away."

"I'll watch," Nessa replied. "My husband-tae-be will win a great victory this day, and as his future wife, it's me duty tae support it."

"See? The woman has more sense than ye," Wullie replied with a snort. He was a tall, burly man with hooded eyes and a dark smile. "Let's just hope the prince listens tae Nicol and makes it a sight worth watchin'."

Ruadh said something in protest, but Nessa had already stopped listening to them. She expected the first screams to have risen from the village by now, or at least the sound of a raised alarm, but there was nothing but silence.

"What's goin' on?" she whispered to herself. She got to her feet, straining to hear the sounds of battle.

Nothing.

The silence stretched out, peppered only with the sound of Ruadh and Wullie's argument, and Nessa grew increasingly confused.

She'd seen too many of these battles now.

She knew how it went. So where was the panic?

Where was the oncoming storm? Surely, even if Ansel had managed to convince the men to a more peaceful route—and that was unlikely—there would be some resistance from the village?

She peered down the hill, but despite Ansel's assurances, it was far too hard to see. She realized one thing for certain, though. For whatever reason, the battle had not started.

Her guards were still arguing behind her, and though Nessa knew that she should sit still, something pulled her forward. She took a few steps toward the village, not even sure what she was intending to do.

A sudden thud made her jump, and she spun around just in time to see Ruadh fall to the ground and lie still. She cried out in surprise, at first thinking Wullie had attacked him, but the other guard came lumbering over with panic on his face.

Nessa hurried toward the downed young man, but before she could reach him, a man darted out from seemingly nowhere and pounced toward her. She wordlessly screamed as a hand gripped her arm and pulled her hard.

Wullie drew his sword and threw himself forward. "Let go of the king's property!" he snarled. "I'll kill ye where ye stand, rebel scum!"

"Wait here," her attacker said in a voice that sounded a little too lighthearted for Nessa's comfort. He turned and winked at her. "I'll only be a moment."

She stood, paralyzed with a mixture of fear and shock, and watched as the strange man ran forward to meet Wullie's attack.

She stared, wide-eyed, at this strange, impossible man who seemed completely out of place here at this moment.

His tree-sap golden curls bounced as he fought, laughing as he dodged out of the way of Wullie's attacks.

"Come on, now, ye're nae even tryin'," the attacker scolded with a snort. "Dinnae make me kill ye. I dinnae like winnin' against such a pathetic show."

Wullie roared and swung again. The man danced out of the way, his wild grin visible even through his short beard. "I'll kill ye!" Wullie snarled. "I'll kill ye before ye take her! She belongs tae the king."

The man tutted, parrying another hit. "I ken some very powerful people who'd disagree. Now, last chance. Put yer sword down. Surrender and ye'll live."

Wullie screamed. "I'll gut ye! And the king will destroy each and every one of ye vermin!" He swung down with a heavy two-handed blow. "Die kennin' yer pretender heir will burn!"

Something in the man's posture changed. Something serious and dark overtook him.

He did not retort. He simply moved, almost too quickly for Nessa to follow, and sliced out with his sword.

Wullie fell a moment later, and it was clear from the thunk of his body on the ground that he would never rise again.

The man returned to Nessa's side. "Now, then," he said in that same cheerful voice from before, all traces of the darkness gone. "Shall we go?"

Nessa tried to run, but he grabbed her again, pulling her close.

She cried out, kicking at his legs, flailing her arms as she tried to fight against his grip.

He grunted, almost sounding surprised, but he fought back easily.

Nessa desperately wished she had a weapon.

She screamed, praying that Ansel or someone would hear.

The man overpowered her in just moments, holding her with her back flush against his chest and her hands crossed in his grip. He pushed her slightly, urging her forward until they reached a horse.

"On," he ordered, loosening his grip. "Come on. We've nae time."

Shaking, Nessa obeyed. She didn't know what else to do. Her eyes went from Wullie's body to Ruadh on the grass as her kidnapper climbed onto the horse behind her and reached past her to grab the reins.

"Did ye have tae kill them both?" she whispered.

The man flicked the horse's reins, and they set off at a gallop. Nessa was thrown backward, feeling the heat of his body supporting her as they raced away.

"The redhead isnae dead. He's gonnae have a hell of a headache when he wakes, though," he told her. "And as for the other one, I did warn him."

The horse sped down the hill and into the forest, galloping in the opposite direction to Blackthorn Castle. Nessa felt cold and empty, wondering where life was taking her next. She wondered if she'd ever choose a path of her own.

"Are ye gonnae kill me?" she asked. "Or are ye plannin' tae hold me for ransom?"

Unbelievably, the strange man laughed again. He really seemed to be enjoying himself—or maybe he just enjoyed every moment. "Kill ye! Ransom ye! After all this effort? God, Nessa. Nae offense, but it doesnae seem worth the trouble."

Nessa's brain scrambled as she tried to understand what he was saying and his odd tone of words. "Are ye mad?" she asked, partly sincere. "Have I been captured by a madman?"

Her kidnapper's arm tightened around her waist as they swung around the corner. Nessa gasped at the sensation.

"Possibly," he replied, "But nae mad enough tae let any harm come tae ye, never fear. After all—yer sisters are waitin'."