Branded by a Warrior (4 page)

Broderick nodded, “Aye, s
he is the daughter of Laird Drumm
ond. I haven’t seen her in years.
Ye are correct Brother, she be
the fabled
Warrior Queen
of Scotland
.” H
e
explained a
s he ran his eyes over her face
and down
her body looking for her wound.
It was a miracle she was alive.
He had no idea how long she had fallen off her horse, only that she was on death’s door, and they needed to get h
er to their castle immediately.

It had been years since he saw the lass; she had grown into a fine woman.
Stories of
this woman
floate
d around the Highland for years, he had only
met her once,
and she
had been in her full glory. He had guess
ed her
to
have been
eightee
n the last time he had seen he
r
, now she had to be in her twenties.

“
She looks just like her
mother
,
and
surly you see how much she looks like Duncan
. T
here
is no mistaking her Kendrix;
she is the heir to Drummond. The sole survivor, and in these lands, the closest thing we have to
royalty
. We need to get her
back to
MacMillan
castle right away.
”
Standing up Broderick
nodded for his brother to lift her up,
“
It’s been days since the attack; she has to be on death’s door
.
She’s nearly frozen to death, and lord knows
where that blood is coming from
.
”

“What
tis her
name?” Kendrix asked
as he
slowly lifted the limp woman into his arms.

“Elisbeth, she is the lass who put
herself between her brother and I all those years
ago. She stopped the bloodshed.” H
e said with a dry voice, he thought back to that fateful
day with shame.
Years had passed since he almost was drawn into a battle with his friend over a woman.

The beautiful woman dead to the world in his brother’s arms was the one thing he was most thankful for all those years ago, she had stopped him from killing his best friend over a lying whore. He owed her his life.
He had never thanked her for stopping the brewing war; he had never been able to express his gratitude as time had passed for stepping in between him and Duncan and stopping their fight.

Walking back to their mounts, Kendrix
forewarned
, “
I’m not sure she’ll make it Broderick, she’s barely breathing, and nearly frozen solid
.
Warrior Queen or not, she be human, and humans bleed and f
reeze to death every bloody day
.
”

“
Aye, w
e need to hurry,
tie her horse to yours
. I’ll carry the lass home,
” Broderick
orde
red, his stern voice commanding, the sudden realization that even though they had found her alive dinnae mean she would stay alive very much longer.
They had a hellish ride ahead of them, transporting her back to his castle could very well be her death sentence.

Broderick swung up onto his stallion with ease,
adjusting
his tartan
so he could hold the young woman securely
.
He pulled off his leather gloves and
watched Kendrix carry
the lass over to him. H
e thought
back on the day she pulled him an
d Duncan apart at the waterfall. I
t was the last time he’d seen his friend aliv
e. Years had passed since
she
dared pull
a sword on him
;
in fact, she had been the
only
woman to ever brandish a weapon at him.
He
remembered
the tension and fury he and Duncan had both felt, she had rode upon them and yelled at them like wee children.
She had
blossomed into
an
exquisite
woman, s
he had been a vision years ago; time h
ad only made her more alluring and stunning.

Elisabeth’s story was famous amongst the Highlands
;
it was widely known that Laird Drummond allowed his daughter to ride with his army
.
Across the Highlands she was known not only for her beauty, but also her skills as a warrior.
She was the fabled woman of Scotland who refused to take a husband, and instead, rode with her father’s army.

Broderick
was positive that
Duncan had a hand in her
training, and her survival
. Even years ago Duncan
was fiercely protective of his sister
. Duncan was one of the finest warriors
he
had ever
seen;
it was obvious from her fame that Duncan had trained her. There was no finer teacher than Duncan.
Stories of the
siblings
fighting side by side in battles floated throughout the lands, witnes
ses had recounted the skill they
had
, and how deadly they were
.
Elisabeth was said to be unbeatable at bow and arrow
, looking down at the petite woman his brother carried
towards him
, he wondered how a woman of her size had such a reputation
.
The people of Scotland had dubbed Elisabeth the
ir
Warrior Queen
; she was bel
oved and revered by her country and people.
She had taken little backlash at refusing a husband, she was one of the few women of their time allowed to have a choice.

Although he hadn’t seen the Drummond siblings in years, he had
heard the tales, and legend of their battle victories. He knew Duncan to be extremely well
trained,
nearly flawless warrior
. Could his little sister really be all they said she was?

Gently taking the woman from his brother, he shifted he
r
limp body
comfortably against his chest and placed his leather gloves upon her frozen hands. She was far more in need of the protection than he was.
With her
secured in his arms
he covere
d her pale
face with his
tartan and shifted his sable fur to cover as much of her cold body as possible.
Running his
free
hand through his long dark hair he looked down at his brother.

“Lord she is cold,” tucking her in close
so he could share his heat
,
he
waited until Kendrix had secured Elisabeth’s stallion, and mounted his ride
before urging
his horse into a gallop.
His faithful wolfhounds and B
rother followed him around the bend
to the waiting army.

As the brothers
joined the waiting army, Broderick signaled for the men to proceed home with all due haste.
The massive army moved like lightning at their Laird’s command.
They had the last leg of their journey to complete, with the weather growing increasingly worse, he wanted to get his warriors and Elisabeth home as quickly as possible in these conditions.
Within hours they’d be
safe
behind the cast
le walls
,
before warm fires and back in their beds.
He prayed his healer was up to the task of bringing this woman back from the brink of death; it would be a miracle if the
bonny
lass survived. He had seen men twice her size die from far less.
He found himself
continually
checking to make sure she was breathing on his ride, she was so still, there had been several time he thought she might have died in his arms.

His
dogs Conn and Isla kept
pace with
his horse
as usual, always at his side
the wolfhounds flanked him as they rode through the night
. T
he entire
kilted
battalion moved
through the
snow-covered
forest with s
peed as heavy snow
closed in upon them.

As
the storm caught them
Broderick could feel the wetness upon his chest
, looking down in his arm
s he
gently
pulled her away from his chest and saw she was still bleeding profusely.
She had bled through her clothing and
now, all over
his.
His chest was now covered in her bright red blood.
Gently p
ulling back her tartan
and tunic
to reveal her shou
lder
,
he saw a sword wound from the top of her shoulder down to her chest
, deep and red.
A vicious woun
d that would fall even a warrior his size.

“Shite!”
No wonder the woman was so pale! She had almost bled out. Spurring his horse, Bro
de
rick galloped past the
battalion.

Alerted by his actions, h
is men
quicken
their pace
as
he raced towards the castle.

He whispered a blood oath to his late friend Duncan;
he swore
if there were a way to save her, he’d
gladly
sell his soul to the Devil to keep her alive. He owed Duncan so much, not to mention the young lady in his arms who had saved him from dueling with his closest friend.

Years had rolled by after that fateful night, the young men aged but their friendship never was repaired. They had respect for each other and kept their distances over the years.
He would right his error by saving Elisabeth’s life.
Broderick knew how much Duncan loved his little
sister;
Elisabeth had meant everything to Duncan
and her parents
. Somehow, he just knew Duncan had a hand in Elisabeth’s survival. It made him think of his own brother who rode beside him, he would give anything to keep Kendrix safe, even force him to escape like
he suspected Duncan forced her to do.

In his arms he held the last remaining survivor of the ancient Drummond clan, one of the most fabled women of their time, the Warrior Queen of Scotland, Elisabeth Drummond. Even on death’
s doorstep she was mesmerizing, he wondered what she was like? Her
tenacity
and spiri
t had captivated him years ago, what was she like now?

From this day forward
he
would protect her
with his life, that, he vowed.
The alliance between the Drummond and MacMillan clan
went back to his father’s time. His father and Elisabeth’s father had made a pact years ago to defend
their borders together.
There had been peace amongst the two clans for all of Broderick’s life.
He was honor bound to seek justice for the fallen clan, as the only living laird of both clans it would be up to him to protect her and Drummond lands.

Many
grueling
h
ours later, his
castle came into view.
Tucked high in the Highland mountain range, his castle beckoned as they drew near.
Looking up at his castle, he whispered to the fading woman in his arms, “Hold on a little longer Elisabeth, a warm fire awaits
you;
I will do whatever I can for you, just stay with me
lass.
”

Torches surrounded th
e perimeter of the castle walls
illuminating the s
tone castle in the blowing snow; a more welcoming sight could not be seen.
Perched high in the mountains
,
Castle
MacMillan
was a veritable fortress.
The remote location in the rugged Highland mountains
made it so isolated
none dared attack.

Ahead of him Broderick watched the heavy
wooden
drawbridge begi
n t
o lower as his
thundering mass of
MacMillan
warriors returned to their home.
Galloping across the drawbridge first, he rode
past his
people, th
e huts, blacksmiths and stables.
Broderick rode
directly
up to the
keep
so he could get her inside as quick
ly as
possible.