Seduction of a Highland Lass - Maya Banks Page 0,2
slight disturbance of the air was the only warning he had before he lunged to the side. A sword caught his side, slicing through clothing and flesh.
Pain seared through his body, but he pushed it aside as he grabbed his sword and bolted to his feet. His men came alive and the night air swelled with the sounds of battle.
Alaric fought two men, the clang of swords blistering his ears. His hands vibrated from the repeated blows as he parried and thrust.
He was backed toward the perimeter set by his men and nearly tripped over one of the men he’d posted as guard. An arrow protruded from his chest, a testimony to how stealthily the ambush had been set.
They were sorely outnumbered, and although Alaric would pit the McCabe soldiers against anyone, anytime, and be assured of the outcome, his only choice was to call a retreat lest they all be slaughtered. There was simply no way to win against six-to-one odds.
He yelled for his men to get to their horses. Then he dispatched the man in front of him and struggled to reach his own mount. Blood poured from his side. The acrid scent rose in the chill and filled his nostrils. Already his vision had dimmed, and he knew if he didn’t get himself on his horse, he was done for.
He whistled and his horse bolted forward just as another warrior made his charge at Alaric. Weakening fast from the loss of blood, he fought without the discipline Ewan had instilled in him. He took chances. He was reckless. He was fighting for his life.
With a roar, Alaric’s opponent lunged forward. Gripping his sword in both hands, Alaric swung. He sliced through his attacker’s neck and completely decapitated him.
Alaric didn’t waste a single moment savoring the victory. There was another attacker bearing down on him. With the last of his strength, he threw himself on his horse and gave the command to run.
He could make out the outline of bodies as his horse thundered away, and with a sinking feeling, Alaric knew that they weren’t the enemy. He’d lost most, if not all, of his soldiers in the attack.
“Home,” he commanded hoarsely.
He gripped his side and tried valiantly to remain conscious, but with each jostle as the horse flew across the terrain, Alaric’s vision dimmed.
His last conscious thought was that he had to get home to warn Ewan. He just hoped to hell there hadn’t been an attack on the McCabe holding as well.
Chapter 2
Keeley McDonald was up before dawn to tend her fire and ready herself for the day. She was midway between the wood pile behind her cottage and her cottage door when it occurred to her how ridiculous it was to imagine that she had a day filled with duties and activities.
She stopped as she came around the corner of her cottage and stared down into the valley that stretched to the distant crest several miles away. Smoke from the McDonald keep and the cottages immediately surrounding it rose like a whisper and floated lazily toward the sky.
How fitting that she should be afforded a prime view of the one place she was never welcome. Her home. Her clan. No more. They’d turned their backs on her. They didn’t acknowledge her as kin. She was an outcast.
Was this her punishment? To be relegated to a cottage where she was forever reminded of her birthplace, close enough to see but barred from returning?
She supposed she should be grateful to have any place at all. It could be worse. She could have been forced from her home with no place to go and no recourse but to earn her way in life on her back.
Her lips grew thin and her upper lip curled into a snarl.
It was a trial to her good nature to dwell on such matters. It only made her bitter and angry. There was nothing she could do. She couldn’t change the past. Her only regret was that she hadn’t been able to seek justice against the bastard McDonald for all he’d done. And his wife. She’d known the truth. Keeley had seen it in her eyes, but the mistress of the keep had punished Keeley for her husband’s sins.
Catriona McDonald had passed on four years ago, and yet Rionna hadn’t sent for Keeley. Her oldest and dearest childhood friend hadn’t come for her. Hadn’t summoned her home. And Rionna, of all people, knew the truth.