Page 33 of Captured By the Highland Devil
“I remember the days I’d do that with Nara,” Galan groaned.
“Ye daenae do that anymore?” Ruben asked.
“Nae for the past month. She’s at her sister’s house,” Galan muttered. “She never returns quickly enough when she’s at that house. To this day, her sister thinks she can do better for a husband than a lowly warrior like me.”
Shaking his head, Ruben said. “Ye’ll be fine. I’ve seen yer wife a time or two. She loves ye to death.”
A near full moon lit the night, the clear sky peppered with tiny dots of starlight. By the way Galan’s eyes kept flickering to the window, he suspected the man was keeping watch on the time. He had a reason to—guards woke before sunlight.
“We have a few hours yet.” Ruben said, surprising himself with his own leniency.
“As for the other itch under yer skin, have ye told her what happened to yer sister?” Galan asked.
Ruben’s hand firmed around the cup, “Nay. And I will nae rest until I find that blackguard who took her and scarred her so deeply that she is nae the sweet girl I used to ken. Believe me, when I find that son of a dunghill, he will pay.
“Ye ken this means more to me than a trunk full of coin and jewels,” he said. “This is me family’s honor at stake, and I’ll see that bastard hung up by his heels and flayed alive for what he did.”
A buxom woman who served pints of warm mead was meandering through the room; she took her time to attend to some patrons first. Smiling, laughing, rubbing men’s arms and heads.
As she neared, he saw she was swaying on her feet—the woman was as drunk as the rest of the patrons.
He shifted to stand just as she swayed and felt right unto his lap, giggling. The tall tankard in her hand sloshed as she sat it down. “Me laird, as I live and breathe. Ye’re here in me brother’s pub. How may I service ye tonight?”
“By getting’ off me lap,” Ruben said firmly.
She did not seem to hear him. “A storm is rollin’ in, me laird. T’would best if ye stayed in the inn upstairs and saved yerself a perilous journey.”
“Are ye offerin’ me a bed, ma'am?” Ruben asked dryly.
“A bed,” she said while Ruben gently eased her to her feet. She took great pains to bend over, her tight bodice revealing more of her ample cleavage as she removed his emptied cup. Dark eyes glittering with seduction, “Aye, and a body to go with it.”
“Nay,” Ruben told her. “I only want the mead.”
“Are ye sure, me laird?” the serving woman coasted a hand over his chest—a hand Ruben instantly removed.
“Aye, I am,” Ruben said as he stood and dropped a coin on the table. “We’re leavin’, Howe. Now.”
“Word around town is yer new wife is a frigid as a witch’s tit,” the drunk woman slurred. “Ye would have better company here, with me, me laird.”
Stopping, Ruben said, “Ye will keep me wife’s name out of yer mouth, me good woman.” He pitched his tone loud enough for everyone to hear. “If ye or anyone else badmouths me wife, I promise ye the repercussions will nae be tame.”
Stepping into the nights air, the shock of the cold air made gooseflesh rippled up his skin. He strode to the tethered horse and swung into the saddle, turning the steed to the road.
“Word moves fast around here,” Galan said as he spurred his mount into a trot. “Those whispers are nae somethin’ good though.”
“It’s only spurrin’ me to tell the lass the truth about the war,” Ruben said. “It’s true she is detached from me but I understand that. She has nay one to trust here, well, aside from her maither.”
They continued along the road as it left the village behind. The road emerged at the other side and took the long path through farm roads.
There was a patch of woodened area that spotted a part of the road, a quarter mile that the locals named “the plunderers path”. The thick forestry was perfect cover for the robbers to pounce on unsuspecting travelers.
Ruben made sure his sword was in early reach but as they rode through, not a flicker or a shadow was out of place.
He did not his guard down as he rode around the corner, only to see a horse sprint down the road, the saddle on its back unmanned. The animal’s panicky gait told him that someone had been attacked, and its fear of death was palpable.
Galan swiftly turned his horse away as the frightened animal plunged into the forestry behind them. The two shared a look before they began to look around for the unlucky person who had been attacked.
Slowing their horses, they peered into the shrubs and tall grasses for the person.
