Page 34 of Dark Side of the Laird
Had to trust that she wouldn’t believe a word of Isabella’s vile tongue.
I couldn’t be worried over it. Had to relinquish that bit of power in order to seize control over the rest of my life.
As the last of my dozen men exited the gate, the lot of us dressed in hunting plaids in order to disguise ourselves from enemies. I called out our progressions. “Forward!”
The men grunted their reply in unison. Lined two by two, we spurred our horses into gallops, setting the pace for the grueling trip toward the king. I spurred my mount further, leaning over his withers, not caring that his hair slapped painfully against my cheeks. ’Twas nowhere near the punishment I deserved.
Baring my teeth I growled at the wind. Come hell or high water, we’d make it to the king’s court in record time.
Breaking through the trees, heading southward, we followed the well beaten road, lighted more now that the massive, ancient trees had lost their leaves, and only their gnarled claw-like branches scratched the sky. Many thought these woods to be haunted. The trees to be alive and fae and other tricky creatures to live within the hidden coves and hollowed out oaks. But I’d always found comfort in the forest. Loving the way its natural foliage wrapped around me, cocooning me in a shroud of mystery. There was always a place to hide, always nourishment to be found. Nay, this place was not haunted, but blessed.
Ahead, I spied a large tree that had fallen in the road. I frowned. If the tree had truly fallen, my scouts would have seen it removed. This tree was laid their purposefully. I raised a hand, halting my men, instantly on alert.
’Twas an ambush, I was sure of it.
We scanned the trees, looking for anything out of the ordinary.
I pointed toward a spot not twenty feet beyond the fallen tree. A body, on the ground. Unmoving. Wearing our colors.
Damn. I gritted my teeth. Red hair matted his face. Looked like one of the twins, my best scouts. I signaled to my men to stay behind as I went forward to investigate for myself. The closer I got, the more it became apparent that it was indeed Collum, one of the twins. He laid motionless, blood seeping from a jagged wound in his throat. He’d been murdered, viciously. His clothes were torn and bloody from multiple slash wounds. Weapons were gone, leaving him to look vulnerable even in the afterlife.
Where was his brother?
I scrutinized our surroundings, certain to find his body next. And I did. Just a hint of discoloration on the forest floor where Tavish’s red hair splayed on top of dead leaves. I turned back to my men and nodded toward the forest and two of them broke off. This close to the castle, we’d not bury them here, but bring them back to their family. I had to harden my heart, when what I truly wanted to do was sink to the ground, my knees touching dirt and shout up to the sky. Why did Collum and Tavish have to suffer? Why did they have to serve as some sort of warning to us? These men were good to us. Loyal. Genius in their abilities to scout, and now they lay dead in service to me, cut down by my enemies.
But there wasn’t time for me to mourn. Instead of falling to my knees in prayer, I gritted my teeth and scrutinized our surroundings. There was no sight of anyone ready to ambush us. No shifting shadows amongst the barren trees, no whispers on the breeze. Nothing beyond the shifting of our horses’ feet, their puffs of breath, the jangling of the reins and stretching sounds of our leather saddles. But I knew in my gut, this was not simply a warning, a blow to where they thought it would hurt.
Our enemies knew better than to let us simply walk away. They wanted to rattle us. To put us in a state of mind where all rationality disappeared.
I couldn’t allow that to happen.
I locked eyes with each of my men and nodded. “Hold steady,” I said. Two simple words they were, but for the men it was a great boost. Their leader was holding steady, and so should they.
The moments ticked by in a torrent of heartbeats. I focused on slowing mine, on defeating these men for all they stood for and for what they stood in the way of. They needed to be removed so we could be about our business to the king.
Then I heard it. A whistle on the wind. I ducked and an arrow went whizzing over my back, stabbing into the tree not a foot away. I rent the air with a fierce battle cry.
The sounds of metal scraping on scabbards as swords were wrenched free, pierced the air as my men’s answering call.
“Formation!” I cried, and the men were quick to move, all of us putting our horses’ rears together in a circle in order to protect each other’s backs.
They swung at us from trees, flying past like animals as they tried to slice at us from the sky before landing on foot. And though they may have thought their tactics were clever, they were no match for our men on horses.
A crude looking bunch they were, dirty, scuffed and covered in muck. They looked like the devil’s minions crawling the earth. They sprang at us, despite their disadvantage, lunging forward and stabbing at the horses’ chests. But we kept our horses plated, and each stab did nothing but irritate the mounts all the more.
My own horse, reared, pawing the air and planting a blow against one rat’s chest. He flew backward with the force of the jolt, crying out with his hands clutched to his chest. He’d likely find it hard to breathe.
The next who leapt forward, saw the end of my sword sink into his shoulder, before I wrenched up, tearing his arm from his body. He stumbled away, pale and in shock as he lay dying on the ground.
A few more swung in from the skies on ropes tied high in the trees, but this time we knew the way of their descent and each one of them was cut down before he had a chance to act.
The next group to rush us did so from the ground, leaping up and striking out. A few got in a scrape or two, but they were at once put down like the rabid dogs they were.
“Where is MacDonald?” I bellowed. “Show yourself, ye coward!”
But only the rustle of leaves answered me. The man did not appear, and no one else attacked us. We waited for several moments before dismounting and making piles of the dead for a quick burial.
Though they were our enemies, they did not deserve to rot in the open without a chance to explain their evil deeds to the Lord on high.
