Chapter 1
Scotland, November 1308
Snow pelted Elspet McReynolds as she clutched her dagger, her gaze riveted on the two roughly dressedmen paces away.
“Hand over the sack!” the stocky one with a jagged scar across hischeek demanded.
His partner, with a scraggly beard, narrowed his eyes.
Heart pounding, she tightened her grip. God in heaven, how had her simple plan gone so horribly wrong? She’d despised robbing these strangers. An action she’d never have done if not for the Earl of Dalkirk’s treachery.
Horrific images of the day before stormed her mind. The grizzly death of her mother and stepfather, her stepbrother Blar’s screams as he was dragged away by the murdering cur’s men, and how the earl had hauled her to his chamber.
Nausea choked her at memories of her struggle for freedom. How dare the arrogant bastard believe she’d ever willingly share his bed? Had he not deflected her dagger, she would have driven thesgian dubhdeep into his vile heart. She found grim satisfaction that her blade had left a long gash across his cheek.
With the noble howling in pain and demanding that she be captured and killed, she’d fled Tiran Castle. However much she yearned to leave Dalkirk land, she couldn’t allow her stepbrother to die in the earl’s dungeon.
Terrified for Blar’s life, she’d begged her family’s friends to help her discover whether he was alive. They’d agreed. Except once they’d believed her asleep, she’d overheard them planning to turn her in to gain favor with the noble.
Devastated by their betrayal, after they’d found their beds, she’d crept to the door and, with painful slowness, opened the hewn entry and fled.
Earlier today she’d found a castle guard out on his rounds, a man she’d met several times before, who’d sworn that her stepbrother still lived. For a pound he’d agreed to help Blar escape. That had been on her mind when she’d stumbled across the camp in the woods and had seen both strangers at the river, propelling her to foolishly try to rob them.
A brief search had revealed where the travelers kept their coin. Except, before she could slip away, they’d spotted her and given chase.
Body trembling, she glared at the angry faces of the furious men, damned that she hadn’t stolen one of their horses and ridden away. With the earl calling for her death, she hadnaught to lose.
Another snow-drenched gust whipped past, blinding her from her ill-chosen victims. Too aware of the steep slope behind her, and the harsh landscape of the Highlands, she edged to her left. If she could only reach the trees a short sprint away, she might lose them in the dense woods.
The man with the scraggly beard stepped closer.“Hand it over!”
Elspet’s blade trembled in her hand. Somehow, she must distract them. “Stay back.”
“Nay one steals from me!” Teeth bared, the scarred man moved to the side and cornered her against the dangerous incline.
Fear a bitter slide in her throat, the icy ground crunched beneath her as she edged back. “I am sorry. I needed but afew coins, I—”
The scarred man lunged.
With a scream, she slashed outwith her blade.
A thin line of blood streaked his chin. “You bloody bitch!” Snarling, he caught her arms. After twisting both wrists behind her back, he seized thebag of coins.
Panicking, she struggled to break free. “You have your money; release me!”
Scowling, the thickset man shoved the leather sack into a ragged, worn pocket. “Nay, lass, you have earned naught but punishment for your thievery.” He wrenched open her cape. “Penance,” he said, his eyes darkening with lust, “I shall enjoy delivering.”
His friend gave a cruel laugh. “A comelywench indeed.”
“Nay!” Fresh terror building in her chest, she drove her foot against her captor’s thigh.
With a curse, the stocky man fisted his hand, swung.
Pain exploded in Elspet’s head, and she collapsed onto the snow-covered ground.
* * * *
A woman’s scream had Sir Cailin MacHugh reining his warhorse to a stop. Gaze narrowed, he scanned the forest.
