"What happened?" Mungo stood by the fire, the light flickering off his face.
Holme examined the knife in his hand. It looked familiar. "Is this yours?"
Frowning, Mungo glanced down at his empty scabbard, then back at the knife, his eyes wide. "Aye."
"Did you give it to her?" Holme demanded.
"Of course not! Do you think me mad?"
"Well then, how the hell did Kristina get it off you?"
"I have no inkling."
"You weren't paying attention. That's how! A shapely lass can easily make you go daft."
"She's as canny as a mercenary," Mungo said with amazement, then glanced down at Holme's belly. "You're bleeding."
"I ken it. She stabbed me with your damned knife."
Mungo laughed. At Holme's glare, his face dropped straight. "I'm sorry."
"You should be. I should take it out of your hide." Holme removed his armor and shirt enough to see the shallow stab wound in his belly. It bled, burned and smarted like the very devil, but 'twas only a flesh wound. "Lucky for you, I'll live. Get out of my sight before I take the rest of your weapons."
Mungo hastened away.
Kristina had also sliced his wrist. Nothing killed lust faster than a couple of bloody knife wounds, even if they weren't serious. He wrapped a piece of material around his wrist to absorb the blood. Luckily he had a thick layer of fat on his belly. Good protection. He put his clothing back on and tightened his belt to staunch the bleeding. He strode back to Kristina's tent.
"Kristina!" He kicked at her foot.
No response. Was she pretending, knocked out, or dead?
He dragged her from the tent, causing her skirts to ride up her slender shapely legs. Her eyes were closed and she was as limp as a rag. What a weakling she was! He'd knocked her out with only two strikes. Of course, his fists were large and hard as stones. And in his anger, he'd struck her extra hard. Damnation! He'd wanted to have some fun, not kill her.
He noticed a pouch tied at her waist, over her smock but beneath her outer clothing. What was she hiding in there? He cut the cord and opened the pouch. Silver coins and dangling golden earrings glinted in the firelight. The earrings were coin shaped, with a deep red stone in the center. These were the ones he'd seen her wear over two years before, and they were no doubt valuable. He could sell these, he decided, cramming them into his sporran along with her coins.
He picked her up and carried her toward the fire, then laid her down about five feet from it.
"What happened to her?" Scroggie asked, returning from the hunt with Dobson.
"She stabbed me and I hit her. She's knocked out."
Dobson stopped near her. "Are you certain she still breathes?"
Holme hadn't checked for breath. What if she was dead? A sick feeling punched him in the stomach. He knelt beside her and held a finger beneath her nose. Her weak breath whispered against his calloused skin, giving him a surge of relief. Although he wanted to strangle her at times… if he did, who would he lust over then? He'd been obsessed with her for far too long.
"Want me to throw some water on her face?" Mungo asked.
"Nay. I want her to lie here in the firelight and if any of the Camerons approach, they'll see her, lose their senses and come charging into camp to rescue her. Then, we can kill all of them from the cover of the bush, over there." Holme pointed.
"Good plan. All while our supper roasts." Dobson put three rabbits on a spit over the fire.
"Aye, we sit back in the shadows and watch for them. I want all of you fully armed and prepared for the skirmish. Scroggie, ready your bow. I want you to take out every last Cameron."
"Aye. With pleasure."
***
Grief-stricken that he'd allowed Holme to recapture Kristina, Colin strode rapidly through the pine forest beside Rusty, following the path Holme had left.
