April Holthaus - The MacKinnon Clan 01 (15 page)

“What do ye suppose they are doing out here in the darkness?” Ewan asked.

“I am nay sure. Let’s get a closer look.”

Together they rode in silence trying to avoid the horses from making too much noise from the littered forest floor. Rory could hear the men talking amongst themselves but they were too far away to hear what they were saying. He slid off his horse and readied his sword as Ewan did the same.

“There she is,” called out one of the men in a gruff voice.

“It’s about time. We should have been back hours ago and me legs are killin’ me,” replied another.

Squinting his eyes, Rory looked down where the man was pointing the torch. He saw a young woman curled up on the ground with her hair all tussled around her face.
Annella?
Instantly he was enveloped with fear. He felt the color drain from his face and his hands began to shake; he was barely able to hold onto the hilt of his sword. He dropped down to the ground on one knee and rested his bowed head on his arm using his sword as support.

But his fear and anguish did not last long. His nose flared with every deep exhale. He raised his head and affixed his eyes on the men before him. They didn’t know it but they were already dead. All thought left his mind. Instinctively, he grabbed his sword he bolted out of hiding and sliced his nearest opponent.

Filled with rage and adrenaline, he fought the four men like a wild beast. Ewan stayed back knowing that it was vital to give Rory the space he needed, not to mention that the way he swung his sword around, he too may be caught in the path of his blade and rage.

The bodies of all four men were scattered across the ground. Rory stood trying to control his breathing. Ewan watched as he ran over to Annella’s limp body.

Ewan walked up next to him, placing his large hand on his shoulder and squeezed it. Bending down, Ewan brushed the hair out of her face. Taken by surprise, he took in a sharp breath.

“Rory, it no’ be Annella. It’s Elspeth.”

“What?” Rory asked almost not comprehending the words. “Elspeth?”

Rory struggled to hold back the tears as he felt his heart ache. He had never been so scared in his life. Not even death scared him.

“That means Annella is still out there,” Rory said in relief.

Standing up, Ewan said, “Then let’s go find her.”

“Hold still, ye blasted wench,” Stewart growled as he tightly held onto Annella in his arm while they rode together on his horse.

“Ye are hurtin’ me,” she cried out.

Annella shifted her weight back and forth, trying to get out of his grip. He squeezed tighter, hurting her stomach, making her nauseated. Trying to stay calm, she looked down and tried to control her breathing to rid the nausea away.

Unfamiliar with this area, she had no idea where they were or where they were going. She knew that they must have ridden for hours as the sun was beginning to peak on the horizon. 

“Men. We will stop and make camp. We should be a good distance away from both MacKinnon and the English,” Stewart pronounced and climbed down from his horse.

Forcefully grabbing onto Annella’s waist, he dragged her off the horse and threw her over his shoulder. She kicked out her legs trying to break free, causing Stewart to drop her on the ground, hard.

“Do that again, bitch, and I will nay be so generous,” Stewart threatened. “Tie her to that tree over there,” he demanded.

Annella carefully watched the men around her. She felt foolish for being a captive twice now but knew that as long as she was here, Rory was safe. They have ridden far away from MacKinnon’s land and Rory had no idea where she was. Elspeth was the only one who knew what really happened and she was already dead. Even after Elspeth betrayed her, Annella still felt sorry for the young woman.

The men in Stewart’s party were scrappy looking men. They didn’t act like a group of Highlanders who have fought in battles before. Annella wondered if they were just hired men that Stewart had offered coin to for their services and in the end would most likely not pay.

Stewart was talking quietly with one of them when he watched her closely observing them. Abruptly ending his conversation he walked over to her and sat next to her down on the ground.

“I have seen that look before, my lady. Ye will no’ be escaping me this time. I see yer fear in yer eyes, yer anger. But like a wild horse, ye just need to be tamed,” he goaded.

Grabbing her hair, he let the loose curls slide through his dirty fingers.

“Ye owe me, Annella. Ye are my wife and I will be takin’ what is mine,” he said smiling, revealing his yellow stained teeth and bad breath.

Stewart took a small dagger out from his boot and cut the rope tied to the tree. Picking Annella up, he carried her into a nearby tent while Annella squealed and tried to wiggle free of his hold.

Pushing her down onto the pallet of hay, he began to loosen his trews and started to lift the skirt of her dress. Before he could assault her, Annella felt his weight abruptly lift off of her as he was tossed several feet away.

Rory’s towering figure was standing over him, sword drawn.

“Get up and fight, ye bastard.”

Stewart nervously looked around the tent wondering if he had time to call out to his men. Sliding his hand down the length of his leg, he pulled out the dagger from its sheath at the top of his boot strap and swung it towards Rory’s calf. Jabbing it into his muscle, he released the small knife and crawled out of the tent.

“Rory. Oh my God, ye are hurt,” Annella cried.

Rory grabbed the handle of the dagger and pulled it out of his leg. He winced at the sudden pain shooting down his leg.

“I’m fine. Stay here and dinna leave this tent until I come for ye,” Rory said in a stern voice and hobbled out the entrance of the tent.

“Stewart,” Annella heard Rory roar from outside the tent.

She slipped out through the opening and took cover beyond the trees as she nervously watched. Her throat constricted when she saw the dead bodies lying on the ground that Ewan and Rory had killed. She feared the same fate for Rory and Ewan.

Rory saw Ewan fighting with two of the other men while he scanned the forest looking for the cowardly laird who had ran off. Spotting him just beyond the camp he made his way towards him. With a bloodthirsty look in his eyes, Rory stared Stewart down. As he got closer, they circled around each other waiting to strike.

“Ye are foolish, lad. Ye will no’ win this,” Stewart provoked as he progressed forward, drawing out his sword. “She is just a worthless whore. Lower yer weapon and I will nay kill ye. I will let ye go, but Annella is comin’ wit me. She is mine.”

“Yer wrong,” Rory snarled.

Rory raised his sword overhead and swung its blade. Stewart jumped to the side barely missing the sharp edge of the blade. Stewart attacked, thrusting his sword forward. Ducking from the swing, Rory skipped backwards blocking the blow. Whirling around each other in a battle dance, their blades locked as the metal crashed against each other. Twisting and dodging each attack, Rory brought his foot up and kicked Stewart into his side causing him to fumble to one side.  

Slashing his sword through the air, he nicked the side of Stewart’s face, drawing blood. Stewart raised his hand to his cheek. Looking down at the blood smear, he hissed. Yelling out his aggression, he ran towards Rory swinging his sword from side to side. 

Rory leaped out of the way, turned and kicked Stewart square in the gut causing him to fall backwards. Crashing onto the ground, Stewart had the wind knocked out of him as he landed hard on his back. Rory slumped and took in a deep breath. With his opponent temporarily immobile, he loosened his grip from his sword to relieve some of the pressure from his fighting arm.

In all of Rory’s years of training and combat, he did the one thing that he knew never to do during a battle, get distracted. Foolishly, he turned his head towards Annella. He knew that she had disobeyed his order and left the protection of the tent.

Their eyes locked onto one another as if time stood still. He felt the comfort for just that moment knowing that she was unharmed. Hours earlier he thought her dead. He could no longer imagine life without her in it.

The moment he took his eyes off his enemy, Stewart kicked his feet from under him and Rory went crashing down to the ground dropping his sword out of arm’s reach.

Annella panicked and ran as fast as she could towards the horses. Scurrying to stand up, Stewart circled around Rory, positioning himself and held his sword high.

“As I said before, I always win,” Stewart said with a scowl.

With his face down in the dirt, Rory struggled to stay brave. He was not afraid to die. He prepared himself for the blow that was to come. His one mistake that would cost him his life was his reason for living, Annella. 

Knowing this was his last and only chance, with as much emotion as he could muster, Rory yelled out, “Annella, I love ye.”

Annella for a moment stopped in her tracks. Words that had never been spoken to her before from anyone, other than her parents, strengthened her will and encouraged her to run harder and faster. She grabbed her bow and arrows that Stewart had tied to the saddle bags. Notching the arrow in place, she pointed it at Stewart’s heart and released at the same moment his sword started roaring down upon Rory. Stewart was hit and faltered. Becoming weak, the weight of the sword gave and embedded into the ground just grazing Rory’s side. Stewart looked down at his chest and at the arrow. Raising his head, he looked back up at Annella in the distance.

With fury blazing in her eyes, she said in a loud harsh tone, “That…was for my father.”

With another arrow already notched in place, she pulled the string back as far as it would go.

“And this is for me, ye bastard.”

Releasing the arrow, it lodged in his throat. Stewart immediately fell backwards as blood poured down out of his neck. She stood still, watching the blood pool onto the ground. She dropped her bow as Rory stood up onto his knees and faced her. Running towards him, she fell to her knees before him and wrapped her arms around him kissing him over and over.

“What were ye thinking, ye daft woman? I told ye to stay inside the tent. I could have lost ye.”

“I am sorry. I had to. I love ye,” she said looking up at him trying to stop the tears from streaming down her cheeks.

“I love ye too, lass. But please dinna ever do that again.” Holding her head between his hands, he kissed her with as much passion and love as he could show.

Clearing his throat to casually interrupt the couple, Ewan waited for their attention. Once Annella and Rory looked in his direction he said, “My laird, my lady. I think it’s best we get going. There is a wedding tomorrow that I think ye dinna want to be late for.”

Rory and Annella looked at each other and smiled.

“Aye, he is right,” Rory said.

Rory got off his knees and lifted Annella up into his arms. Guiding her onto his horse, he swung up behind her and grabbed the reins. Holding her closely, they rode fast back to the castle. Annella was satisfied that she finally had her revenge on Stewart and that she was in the arms of the man she loved and who loved her.

Chapter 15

Before the sun went down, everyone in the keep was preparing for tomorrow’s big day. Cook was prepping food, Lil was decorating the church and even some of the men from the village were in the bailey tidying things up at Lil’s request.

Walking arm in arm along the curtain wall, Annella and Rory sat down on the ledge and watched the sun set. The rays of oranges and reds peaking from the horizon lit the sky.

“Ye saved my life today.”

“A woman can only try, my laird.”

“Well, I am grateful for your efforts.”

Sneaking up behind them, Lady Kenna called out, “Rory, Annella, there ye are. I have been looking everywhere for ye. I have something to show ye, my lady and the groom should nay be wit his bride this night. I do believe the men in the great hall are looking for ye as well, Rory.” 

Rory lifted Annella’s hand, bent over and put his lips upon the back of it. “I shall see ye tomorrow, my wee bride. I will be the mon standing at the altar,” he whispered.

“Thank ye for telling me because I would have detested marrying yer brother,” she jested.

Rory strolled into the great hall and spotted Bram and Ewan sitting down at the table drinking whiskey. He walked over to join them.

“It’s about time ye show yer face. We have been waiting for hours. Drink brother, for tomorrow ye shall be tied down to a wife,” Bram joked as he handed Rory a mug of whiskey.

“Better he than I,” Ewan boasted. “For I shall ne’er marry.”

“Me neither. Far too many lasses to bed,” Bram replied.

“Ye say that now, but ye just wait. Some lass will come along and knock both of ye on yer arses,” Rory said smiling taking a big swig.

“And where is yer bride-to-be this eve?” Bram asked.

“Lady Annella and our mother are up in her chamber doing whatever it is lasses do.”

“Why are lasses always so concerned about their dresses when after the wedding, ye are just gonna rip them off ‘em anyhow? It’s what’s under their skirts that matter,” Ewan bragged to Bram.

Bram shrugged and replied, “To have to bed with only one lass, there are just too many to choose from to settle down wit a one of ‘em.”

“Says the mon with two bastards already,” Rory interjected.

“Hey, I love me bastards. They be good lads.”

Both Rory and Ewan looked at each other and laughed.

“Annella, this was the dress I wore when I married Rory’s father. God rest his soul,” Lady Kenna said holding up a white satin dress and wiped a tear from her eye.

The collar was beautifully stitched with light blue flowers. The sleeves were long and were pointed at the tips, and the lace and ribbon flowed down the back of the dress.

“Oh my lady, it is the loveliest dress I have e’er seen. Thank ye,” Annella said with tears brimming her eyes.

“I have always wanted me a daughter and now I will have one,” Lady Kenna said as she helped Annella into the dress to see where it needed to be hemmed.