Return of the Highlander (10 page)

She was about to hoist herself onto his back and quietly leave the camp when she felt a hand on her shoulder. With a gasp of shock, she whirled around.

“Going somewhere lass?” Logan asked.

Perhaps she should have fought to come up with some believable story about what she was up to, but instead, baser instincts prevailed.

Larena hauled back a fist and socked Logan in the nose. His head snapped back in the darkness, he stumbled over something and fell to the ground. At the same time, Larena doubled over in agony, cupping her knuckles in her hand.

“
Ballocks!
” A fiery burst of adrenaline followed, so she quickly leaped onto Rupert’s back and kicked in her heels. “Go, Rupert! Go!”

Confused and disoriented, Rupert nickered as she tried to steer him into the pitch darkness. Logan scrambled to his feet. He grabbed the hem of her skirt and yanked her roughly to the ground. She landed with a heavy thud that shook her ribcage and stole her breath.

Flat on her back, blinking up at the stars, she gulped desperately for air.

Logan gave her no time to recover. He flipped her onto her stomach and wrenched her wrists behind her back, then tied them with a rope.

“I didn’t want to have to do this,” he said, digging a knee into her back. “But you leave me no choice.”

“Then
don’t
do it,” she grunted with a tightly clenched jaw, her cheek pressed into the dirt.

He leaned down to speak in her ear. “Are you suggesting I trust you to behave yourself and travel with me the rest of the way to Leathan?”

“Yes. I promise!”

He scoffed and sat back to finish tying the knot. “Sorry, but I cannot take your word for it, lass.” He tied her ankles together as well and twisted the rope around her legs, all the way up to her thighs. “Especially considering whose daughter you are.”

“I don’t understand what this is about,” she ground out while she struggled against his hold. “Why are you doing this?”

He rolled her onto her back and straddled her. Perched above her on his hands and knees, he peered down at her face. “Now, look at you. All trussed up.”

She tried to kick him between the legs but she couldn’t bend her knees.

“Stop squirming lass,” he said. “You’re getting me worked up when you shouldn’t be drawing attention to the fact that we’re alone and I have a bone to pick with your family.”

Larena frowned up at him in bewilderment. “Are you referring to Sheriffmuir? It wasn’t our fault that you lost members of your family. We
all
lost people that day.”

He scoffed bitterly. “Is that what you think this is about?” He shook his head. “I’m afraid there’s a bit more to it than that.”

“Then what is it? Why do you hate me so much?”

“It’s not
you
I despise,” he replied in a low, hostile voice. “It’s your father. There are some wrongs that need to be righted.”

Her heart raced wildly and her stomach churned with nausea. “What wrongs? My father is a good man and a fair chief.”

For a long moment, Logan’s disdainful gaze roamed over her face—back and forth slowly from one eye to another, then across her forehead to her cheeks, and down her nose until his eyes settled on her lips.

His chest rose and fell with slow, deep breaths, and all Larena could do was lie still, praying he would back away and leave her alone.

“You know…” he casually said, “I did consider tossing the King’s pardon into the fire and being first in line to watch your father lose his head. But I want him to know that it was
me
who brought his daughter home to Leathan.”

Logan inclined his head and continued to study her face.

“In case things get dodgy,” he continued, “you ought to know that I meant what I said earlier—that I think you’re a bonnie lass. I hope you’ll forgive me for all this. I think you will when all is said and done.”

He wet his lips and slowly bent his head to kiss her, but she squeezed her eyes shut and turned her face away.

“What’s the matter, lass?” Logan asked. “I thought we were friends.”

“Not anymore,” she replied with disdain. Then she spit in his face.

Logan’s eyes flared with anger. She braced herself for his retaliation, but the unexpected sound of a pistol cocking caused him to turn his head. Larena looked up to see Darach standing over him.

Thank God.
Relief flooded her senses for he was alive and unharmed—and here to stop his brother from beating her, or doing something far worse.

But suddenly her heart sank as she considered that Darach might be here for another dark purpose. What did she ever really know of either of them?

Darach pressed the barrel of his gun firmly against his brother’s temple. “If you know what’s good for you, Logan, you’ll get off the lassie now.”

Logan raised his hands over his head and slowly rose to his feet.

Chapter Twelve

“Cut her loose,” Darach said with the pistol still cocked and aimed.

“I was just having a bit of fun with her,” Logan explained, his hands in the air. “Besides, I had no choice. She just tried to escape with the pardon.”

“But she’s not our prisoner.”

“Says who?” Logan replied. “
You?
”

“Aye. Me and our laird, Angus the Lion.”

“He was never our true laird,” Logan practically spat. “You know that as well as I do.”

Still roped and bound on the ground behind Logan, Larena rolled to her side and quietly struggled to free her wrists, while listening carefully to what the brothers said to each other.

Darach kept the weapon trained on Logan’s head as he spoke. “I pledged my oath to Angus, and so did you. He asked us to deliver this woman and the King’s pardon to Leathan Castle, and that’s what I intend to do.”

“What difference does it make if we do what we want when we get there?” Logan asked.

“Angus wants peace,” Darach replied.

“Peace?” Logan let out a bitter laugh. “With the English, you mean? Or with the Campbells? After what they did to our father, that’s a bloody pipe dream.”

“What are you talking about?” Larena asked while she struggled to free herself.

“Quiet lass,” Darach said. Then he spoke to Logan again. “I gave Angus my word and I aim to fulfill that oath.”

She prayed that would be the case. Perhaps Darach would turn out to be her savior after all…

“But have you forgotten where you come from?” Logan asked with heated intensity. “Have you forgotten who your true family is?”

“Nay, I’ll never forget,” Darach replied.

Slowly, Logan began to lower his hands. “Then let’s do what we are destined to do, Darach. Think of it. What are the odds that we would stumble across Fitzroy Campbell’s daughter, unconscious and carrying the pardon to save his life? Surely that was fate. Surely we are meant to return to Leathan and seek justice.”

Justice?

“Where is the pardon now?” Darach asked. “What did you do with it?”

“I have it,” Larena said, wincing at the burning chafe marks on her wrists.

Logan turned to look down at her, lying at his feet.

“You let her keep it?” Darach asked. “I’m surprised.”

He shrugged indifferently. “I figured it would keep her amiable until we reached Leathan.”

“And then what did you plan to do with it?” Larena demanded to know. “Steal it from me and destroy it outside the castle gates?”

“Nay, lass,” he replied. “I was going to use it to gain entry, to poke around and see what the English are up to.”

“I wouldn’t have let you,” she argued, still fighting with her bonds. “I would have exposed you for what you are. A traitor and a cheat, a man who would assault a woman, strike down his own brother and leave him for dead.”

“Darach’s not dead,” Logan argued, “and I’m not daft. I wasn’t going to bring you to the castle with me. I would have done something with you by then. Kept you for assurance somehow—so that I’d have something to negotiate in case things went sour.”

“What things?” Larena growled, fighting harder against her bonds and wishing she had her bow so she could shoot Logan straight through the heart.

“You must give me your word,” Darach said to him, “that you will let this go. There is no future for us at Leathan. We cannot change the past. Gather up your things now, ride back to Kinloch, and we won’t say another word about it.”

Logan shook his head. “I cannot let it go.”

Darach lowered the pistol to aim it at Logan’s knees. “Go now or I will shoot you in the leg.”

Larena rolled out of the way.

“You won’t do that,” Logan said. “I’m your baby brother, the one you saved.”

“Aye, but you’ve lost sight of your honor, Logan. I cannot stand by and let you break your oath to your laird and do as you please. You’ll get yourself killed. It’s time to gather up your things and leave.”

“You dare to speak to me of honor?
You
?” Logan spit on the ground between them.

For a long moment they stared at each other in the gloom of the moonlight while Larena lay absolutely still, praying that Logan would submit.

But even if he did, would she be any safer in Darach’s hands? She had no idea what was really going on here. And could Logan be trusted to return to Kinloch? What if he came after them?

Suddenly, in a flash of movement, Logan lunged at Darach. The gun went off in a deafening blast that rang in Larena’s ears, but the ball only grazed Logan’s leg and embedded itself in a tree.

As soon as the noise faded to silence, Logan threw his whole weight at Darach. They landed in a heap on the forest floor, grunting and shouting like savages. Logan punched Darach in the face, but Darach rolled him onto his back. He struck Logan three times in the jaw until Logan’s arms fell listlessly to his sides and his eyes rolled back in his head.

Darach rose to his feet and staggered backwards, wiping his forearm across his bloody mouth. All the while, he kept his eyes on Logan, as if he fully expected him to rise up again and resume the fight.

Larena tugged desperately at her bonds until her wrists were numb from the chafing. At last she freed herself and began to unwrap her legs.

Logan recuperated suddenly. He clambered to his feet, drew his knife, and lunged at Darach.

Darach grabbed hold of his brother’s wrist, head-butted him, and pushed him backwards into the steep rock face, where he pounded Logan’s hand repeatedly up against the stone. At last the knife fell from Logan’s grasp.

In a shrewd maneuver, Darach bent and snapped Logan’s arm with a gruesome-sounding
crack
!

Logan bellowed in pain and dropped to his knees, clutching his arm to his abdomen.

“Your fighting arm is broken,” Darach informed him, “but you should be able to ride with the other. I’ll set the bone in place and you may remain here until morning, but then you must return to Kinloch. Tell Angus you were thrown from your horse and I will put this behind us, Logan. Do otherwise, and I promise you will answer to
him
.”

Logan picked up his knife, sheathed it in his boot, and rose unsteadily to his feet. Still cradling his broken arm, he said nothing as he limped past the fire to his horse and awkwardly mounted him bareback.

“Wait,” Darach said, following. “Let me set the bone in place first.”

“Go to hell,” Logan replied and urged his horse into a trot. “I’m done with you.”

Larena stepped out of his way, but he stopped in front of her. His horse stomped around skittishly.

“We’re not who you think we are, lass,” he said. “And you deserve to know the truth.”

Darach stepped forward. “Logan,
no
….”

He tossed his head in Darach’s direction. “This Highlander who thinks he’s full of principle and honor is a bloody liar. His name is Darach Campbell and I am Logan Campbell. We were born at Leathan Castle and our father was Ronald Campbell. Your former chief.”

Larena’s body stiffened in shock. “You are sons of
Ronald
Campbell?”

Logan nodded.

She shook her head in disbelief. “But you’re MacDonalds. You told me you lost your family at Sheriffmuir.”

She was overcome by confusion and dismay, for she remembered Ronald Campbell. He had survived the battle at Sheriffmuir, remained chief for more than a decade afterward, but had suffered a tragic death two years ago when he was thrown from his horse during a hunt.

These were his sons?
She’d been under the impression all his sons had fallen on that bloody battlefield fifteen years ago and he had no heirs. That is why her father had been chosen to take his place as chief two years ago.

Logan had nothing more to say on the matter. He rode past her and was swallowed up by the darkness of the forest.

Stunned and shaken, Larena stared after him for a long moment. Then she turned to face Darach. Her stomach lurched, for he was glaring at her with intense, murderous eyes. His lip was split open and starting to swell.

He spit blood onto the ground, then thrust Logan’s heavy claymore into the dirt and sheathed the knife in his boot.