Chapter Fourteen
As gloaming cast purple light over the golden autumn landscape, Colin and his men rode closer and closer to Rhodie Castle, but three or four miles yet remained in their journey. They had ridden hard all day to make it this far, but they could not push the horses more at this point. They must keep to a slower pace.
Without Kristina by his side, Colin felt a gaping hole inside him. Plus, the dread and anxiety over how he would find his da's health cast bleak darkness over his mind. He could not remember feeling so fearful and devastated. Everything had become deadly serious. If his father could not survive this wound, Colin's world would crash to the ground. And without Kristina as his wife, his life was not worth living anyway. What reason would he have to go on?
His clan.
Even after the hell Neacal had suffered through two years ago, his main reason for continuing on was his clan. He'd committed himself to leading them to the best of his ability.
Colin could do no less. He would look to his friend and foster brother as a mentor.
One of the men shouted, and Colin's horse reared.
"What the devil?" Colin struggled to maintain his seat. He then noticed an arrow protruding from the saddle near his thigh. "Take cover! 'Tis an ambush!"
Why hadn't Colin been paying more attention to their surroundings?
Two more arrows whizzed toward them from the nearby wood, and the men lifted their targes, deflecting them. Colin was unable to see how many men lurked there. Probably not many if only two arrows were being launched at a time.
Regardless, he wasn't taking any chances with his men's lives or the horses. He vaulted from the saddle and quickly drew his horse farther along toward large boulders, then behind them. His men followed.
"Is anyone injured?" While holding the bridle of his spooked horse, Colin looked the men over. All were either still in their saddles and dismounting or already on their feet as they joined him behind the rocks.
"An arrow grazed my arm." Warton leapt from his horse and ripped at his bloody sleeve to see the torn flesh. "Who are these bastards?"
"Likely the same ones who shot my father." Rage burned like a fire in Colin's stomach. "We must capture or dispatch them." Colin checked his horse and found that the arrow's point that had struck his saddle had penetrated the horse's flesh about an inch. It bled, but not too severely. A flesh wound that would heal quickly. He stroked the horse's muzzle to calm him while observing the trees some thirty yards distant.
He yearned to capture or destroy each of the outlaws, but running into the dark wood after them would be suicide. From here, he couldn't see even one man.
"Rusty, see if you can shoot any of them." Colin kept his voice low. "Their archer must have a clear view of us betwixt the trees."
Rusty was one of the best with a bow and arrow, and his eyesight was keen.
Two more arrows darted toward them, missing by several feet. One struck the stones and bounced off, while the other drove into the dirt.
"Cowards!" Colin shouted. "Come out and face us!" He narrowed his eyes, watching the wood. A blur of plaid moved among the bushes at the edge. "There. Do you see him?" Colin pointed. "Shoot him."
"Aye." Rusty nocked the arrow, drew back and propelled it toward the trees. The plaid vanished behind the bushes and shouting followed.
"You got him!" Feeling a small surge of victory, Colin hoped the downed man was the assassin who'd injured his father. Rustling reached his ears. It sounded as if the other outlaws were fleeing through the dried leaves of the forest floor. "The rest are getting away. Capture them!"
The Camerons ran on foot toward the wood, leaving three in charge of the horses.
"You two, disarm and guard the assassin," he told Warton and Ethan, then advanced with the rest of his men, chasing the fleeing murderers through the wood. Their feet crunched over the dried leaves and pine needles. At the back edge of the forest, the land turned grassy. Colin stopped, his gaze searching for fleeing men, but he saw nothing. Where had they disappeared to? Around the bend? Down the hill to the next patch of trees? Not knowing how many they'd be up against, he didn't want to split up his forces more than he had already. He wanted to keep the rest of his men safe. Besides, gloaming would soon turn to night.
"We need to reach Rhodie before dark. Let's see if the man Rusty shot still lives."
As Colin and the others approached, Warton and Ethan stood watching the outlaw lying on the ground. He was attempting to draw the arrow from his thigh, but that could be a fatal mistake, for it could cause him to bleed to death. The man's bow and quiver lay several feet away, as well as his other weapons.
"Who are you and why did you ambush us?" Colin demanded.
"Go to hell, you Cameron bastards!" the downed man growled through gritted teeth, his face contorted in pain.
"Did you tell him our name?" Colin asked Warton.
"Nay. He knew immediately who we are."
"What's your name?"
