"Run!" Neacal yelled to Anna. He didn't want her accidentally hurt during the skirmish.
Neacal focused on his enemies again, battle fury consuming him. His survival instincts and years of training took over. He was unaware of what he did until 'twas over and all three bleeding men lay on the ground, writhing in agony or else still in death.
Neacal glanced down at his clothing to find it spattered with blood. The dark anger still consumed him as he scanned the area, looking for additional enemies. Were more of them behind the buildings?
Where had the lass gone? "Anna?" he called out.
Before he could find her, two more men emerged from behind the tavern, one with bright red hair and one with dark hair and beard. Once they saw their cohorts lying on the ground, they drew their swords and eased forward cautiously, their glares directed at Neacal.
Aye, he could kill them, too, if he wished. But how many more were there? What if a small army lurked behind the tavern? Did he wish to kill a dozen men this day? He and Anna couldn't stay here. He had to get her away.
"Damnation! Anna, come!" When she emerged from the side of the building, he tossed her up into the saddle and leapt on behind her. "Dunn!"
"That's her! Stop him!" one of the men shouted.
"Hell," Neacal muttered. He urged the horse into a gallop, racing east, toward the hills and the nearest cover. When he glanced back, the two men rode horses, giving chase.
"I'll have to kill those bastards, too," he growled. "Take the reins, Anna. If I jump off, you keep riding as fast as you can toward that mountain up ahead."
"Nay, stay with me! I don't want you to get killed." She turned. Her anguished eyes pleaded with him.
"Did those other three kill me? Nay, I'll be fine. Do as I said. Ride toward the mountain and hide behind the bushes if you must." He glanced back to find that Dunn had leapt onto the ginger-haired man and dragged him off his mount. He fell among the rocks and squawked like a great bird.
The other rider, with dark hair and a short beard, did not slow. When he drew close enough, Neacal struck out at him. Their swords clanged. Needing to take the fighting away from Anna, he shoved himself upward and leapt onto the other man's horse. Looping his arm around the man's neck, Neacal dragged him to the ground. They hit with a shocking jolt. Ignoring the pain, Neacal sprang to his feet, the tip of his blade at the prone man's throat.
The black-eyed weasel did naught but lay still, his hands in the air beside his head. His sword lay several feet away.
"Who are you?" Neacal asked.
"MacBraden. One of Chief MacCromar's soldiers."
"How many more men with you, besides him?" With his head, Neacal gestured to the man Dunn had attacked.
"Three dozen are on their way. We're the scouts who rode ahead of the others. Lady MacCromar is the laird's wife. He will never give up until he has her back."
Neacal felt as if someone had thrust a blade into his stomach, for he'd already started thinking of Anna as his own future wife. Now, that couldn't happen. Devastation poured in upon him like a great rock slide. "The bastard mistreated her, did he not?" Neacal asked, keeping his blade at the man's throat.
MacBraden shook his head.
"Cease your lies, man! Why else would she run away from him?"
"Matters not. She's still legally wed to him. He has every right to discipline her, and even beat her if he so chooses."
Neacal ground his teeth, trying to rein in the fierce anger that threatened to devour his control. What the devil had the knave done to her? "Any man who abuses a woman is no man in truth, but a coward," he shouted. "Is he among the three dozen?"
The man smiled.
Dog barks and yells echoed. Moving back a safe distance, Neacal glanced around to find the redheaded bastard swinging his sword at Dunn, back and forth. The dog dodged out of the way each time.
"Back, Dunn!" Neacal commanded. The dog loped up the hill away from the man.
MacBraden arose and yanked the dirk from his scabbard, while his comrade raced away from Dunn and toward Neacal.
He didn't want to kill more men, but would if he had to. Anything to protect Anna. His heart ached with the knowledge she wasn't his and couldn't be. 'Twas why she'd refused him without explanation. Why hadn't he guessed? Regardless of whom she was married to, he would not let her be abused further.
Neacal eyed the two men poised to charge him at any moment, fury and murder in their eyes. "Neither of you want to die this day, do you, like the other three at the tavern?" he asked them. "You saw your brethren back there. They attacked me at once and none survived. There are only two of you. What chance do you have?"
They hesitated, the gleam of dread and hatred in their eyes.
