“Go,” he said before he changed his mind.
Rose spurred her mount and raced into the night. As expected, this was a beacon to the waiting broken men. They broke from the trees and charged the cottage.
“Make haste,” William said, swinging into the saddle. His horse, sensing impending danger, pawed and snortednervously. Drake and Wallace mounted beside him, and, with swords drawn, they burst from the cottage, bellowing their battle cry.
Rose struggled to keep a grip on the wildly thrashing child. “No! No! Da! Uncle Drake!” she cried.
Rose held her tightly, dropping the reins once when Dede would have slithered from her arms to the ground.
“Dede! Listen to me!”
Dede shrieked and kicked. Rose was forced to slow Moireach to a walk.
Dede abruptly went still. Before Rose could reason with the child, the mare veered to the right and reared. Rose’s heart leapt in panic. She sawed on the reins, but the horse was determined to turn.
“Moireach! No, damnit!”
Rose pulled and yanked, but a demon possessed the horse. Moireach pawed at the ground and screamed furiously—then bolted forward, back to the cottage.
“No! Stop!” Rose cried, pulling on the reins. Dede clutched her waist.
Lights burst ahead of them, followed by three loudpops.Rose pulled her dag from the saddle holster, her heart hammering in her throat. As they drew nearer the cottage, the clouds shadowing the moon scudded aside, and she could see the fighting. Bodies littered the ground around the structure. Six men still battled. Three were on horseback, and another three had been unhorsed. They fought savagely, two against one. Rose still had no control of the horse. It raced toward the men on the ground. Rose recognized Strathwick, sword in one hand and adirk in the other, fighting off two men. He slashed at them with a fury she’d never guess of the taciturn man, single-handedly driving both men back.
Moireach ran at one of the marauders, surprising him so he had no time to react before her hooves drove him to the ground. She pounded him for good measure before wheeling away and turning back.
One of the horsed bandits appeared beside Rose. She tried to block his blow, but his fist struck her arm. She cried out and, clutching Deidra to her, toppled back. She landed on her back, knocking the wind from her lungs. Deidra sprawled across her chest. The dag skidded away.
Pain radiated through Rose’s back. She fought to catch her breath and clear her vision. Lights exploded before her, and a great weight still pressed into her.
Deidra screamed and the crushing weight disappeared, replaced with a burning on Rose’s scalp as someone pulled her to her knees using a handful of her hair.
“Two pretty ones,” a rough voice rasped gleefully. “No wonder they sent you away.”
Rose’s vision cleared enough to see the ragged plaid at eye level and Deidra screeching and struggling in the man’s other hand. Fury and fear twisted inside Rose. She drove her fist into the man’s groin. He pitched over and back, releasing Rose, but dragging Deidra down with him. Rose stumbled to her feet, pain radiating through her back. She ignored the pain and kicked the villain. “Let her go!” she screamed, then she kicked him in the head and stomped on the arm trapping Deidra.
He howled and cursed but released the child.
“Deidra, run!” Rose yelled.
Deidra sprinted toward the cottage. Rose started after her, but the man was on his feet already, furious.
Blood poured from his nose. “Stupid bitch!” he yelled, his voice strange and nasal. He lurched at Rose.
Rose ran in the opposite direction, praying Deidra found a safe place to hide rather than more trouble. Her breath wheezed in her chest, burning. The pain in her back seized at her, making her stumble. Her pursuer tackled her, dragging at her hair and arisaid. She slammed into the ground, bringing her hands up to break her fall. Stones cut her palms, and the impact jarred her shoulders. His hot, stinking body covered her, suffocating her. She bucked crazily, blind terror gripping her. The back of her head slammed into his face and he gasped, his weight easing enough for her to crawl forward on her elbows. A glint of metal caught her eye, and she scrabbled for it. The man snatched at her skirts, seizing her ankle and yanking. He laughed wickedly, his grip punishing. Rose fell, twisting so she landed on her bottom and kicked wildly at him with her free leg. She heard a feral growling and moaning and realized it was herself. She drove her heel hard into his face with a grunt of effort and was rewarded with a crunch.
He roared his fury and pain but didn’t release her. Still, she gained the few inches she needed to grab her dag. She rolled onto her back and swung the gun around, the hilt gripped hard in both hands. He lumbered up, bloodied teeth bared, hands already reaching for her. He paused only a moment when he saw the gun barrel aimed at his face, then he threw himself at her, hisbearded, misshapen face distorted with rage. Rose pulled hard on the trigger. The wheel lock spun, scratching pyrite. Sparks showered around her as the gun discharged with a deafening blast. The force of it sent her reeling back, knocking her head into the ground.
A cloud of smoke surrounded her. She dropped the gun, useless now, and coughed, scooting backward. Her attacker lay in a heap on the ground, part of his head gone. Rose closed her eyes and tried to catch her breath, her stinging hands pressed to her chest. Her heart raced, and she felt nauseated.
A sharp twinge in her back reminded her of Deidra. She scanned the moor around her. The fighting was over. The wind whispered over the moor, disturbing the tufts of grass. Horses meandered about, two of them cantering together playfully. Where was everyone? Her heart raced again as she limped hurriedly to the ruined cottage. She counted four bodies of broken men and spotted several more dark mounds further away.
She found Wallace on the ground inside the cottage, leaning against a wall, grasping his side. His hand was dark and wet.
Rose dropped to the ground beside him. “What happened?”
He spoke through gritted teeth. “Sword wound. Not bad.”
“Let me see.” She pulled his fingers away and pushed his plaid off his shoulder, then removed his leather vest. The linen shirt beneath was crimson with blood.
