Page 25 of Time of the Warlord (Stones of Scotland #5)

W aiting there, staring at the cottage door, was the most agonizing few moments of Ciaran’s life. The smoke had already begun to clear - wherever the hell it had come from - as the wind and the damp dissipated it. Ciaran could now see well enough to make out all the windows of the cottage, as well as the figures of his men, all looking blessedly unharmed.

No one had spoken in response to his warning call. But he had heard noises coming from inside the cottage. Something was happening in there, and it killed him that he had no idea if Sadie was safe.

“Come out, or I’m coming in!” he called again.

Still no response.

He swallowed hard. Storming straight into the cottage would be a terrible idea, much as it appealed to him. He had no idea what other strange, futuristic weapons they might have in there.

Futuristic… that was a thought. Were these kidnappers from the future? His heart beat a little faster. It might explain why they’d been at the stone circle, and why they’d targeted Matthew, Sadie, and Norah. Of course, they might just be opportunistic kidnappers after a ransom, but that smoke was like nothing he’d ever seen before. It all seemed too much to be coincidence.

He gestured to his men to hang back as he tried to decide what to do. If these men were from the future, he had no idea what else they were capable of, what other tricks were up their sleeves. Realistically, he should fetch more men and mount a proper, well-organized attack on the cottage. But how could he walk away and leave Sadie to her fate, whatever it might be? He had not imagined that scream. He could not leave her.

Drawing a deep breath, Ciaran decided he was finished with being a cautious bodyguard. It was time to embrace his role as a wild warrior. Hefting his sword, he screamed aloud and ran at the cottage door.

He burst through on his first attempt, the rotten wood crumbling under the force of his attack. His sword swung - and froze, poised in the air, as Ciaran stared at two terrified pairs of eyes.

“Put down the sword,” a man’s voice said from behind the two women. “Because, believe me, I can kill them both in an instant.”

The fear in Sadie’s eyes told Ciaran to believe the man’s threat. He lowered his sword and stepped further into the cottage, trying to circle around and view the man head-on. The damned coward kept shifting, keeping the twins between him and Ciaran. Another man lay on the floor, in a pool of what looked like blood. Ciaran was about to write him off as dead, but a low moan informed him that the fallen man was still alive - barely.

“What do you want with these women?” Ciaran asked. “Why have you taken them?”

“They work for me,” the man said in his strange, cracked voice. “And I’m going to be taking them with me.”

“I don’t believe that the ladies wish to go with you,” Ciaran said, keeping his voice level and polite. In fact, I am almost certain that they do not.”

“As if I care,” the man spat.

Something whizzed past Ciaran’s face, but he had no time to wonder about it. He reached for Sadie as her hands stretched towards him.

“Stupid woman!” the man shouted. Something flashed in the smoke-filled air of the cottage, and Sadie fell. Ciaran lunged forwards to catch her before she hit the ground, her warm body tumbling into his arms.

“Sadie!” he said desperately. “Sadie, can you hear me?”

Her eyes did not open, but she moaned slightly. She was alive, thank goodness. But, when Ciaran looked up, Norah and the man were gone. He heard a shout outside, but he could not abandon Sadie.

“I need help in here!” he shouted.

One of his men appeared in the doorway in an instant, his eyes widening as he took in the scene.

“My lord? What happened? A man and a woman just ran past us.”

Ciaran cursed, but he couldn’t worry about Norah right now. He had to get Sadie to safety.

“I need two of you to make some kind of stretcher,” he ordered. “And commandeer a horse and cart. This man and this woman need to reach Dunadd as quickly as possible.”

Thankfully, the guards were efficient men. They had the man loaded onto a cart in a matter of moments, and even managed to bind his bleeding leg. Ciaran had no idea what had caused the wound, but he hoped Dunadd’s healers would cope with it.

Releasing Sadie to lie on the cart was far more difficult. Every instinct told him to keep her close to him, but carrying an unconscious woman on his horse would not be easy. Reluctantly, he allowed the men to build a nest of blankets on the cart, into which he lowered Sadie as carefully as he could.

“Get moving,” he said. “We need to reach Dunadd. Now .”

They set off as quickly as the lumbering horse and cart could travel. Every step was torture to Ciaran. Why weren’t they going faster? Why were they so far from home? At last, he could take it no longer.

“Ride ahead,” he snapped at the nearest guardsman. “I want healers ready and waiting at the gates the moment we arrive.”

White-faced, the man nodded his agreement. He nudged his horse into action and disappeared up the road ahead of them, leaving a cloud of dust in his wake.

Ciaran and his party trudged on.

What would he do if Sadie died? He had been so ready to declare his love for her - and then so ready to turn on her. She’d known her sister was in Dunadd, yet she hadn’t told him. How could he overlook that? But how could he blame her? Ciaran knew that he would do almost anything to keep Niamh safe. He could only imagine how strong the bond must be between these sisters.

His thoughts tumbled round and round in his head as they made their achingly slow progress along the road. In the end, though, it was the frantic beating of his heart that told him the truth. No matter what she’d done, no matter what she’d said, he still loved Sadie.