Isobel? Saints!
Seona climbed onto his broad back, holding onto his shoulders. He wrapped one arm around her thigh and, with his other hand, he carried his unsheathed sword. Moving nimbly, he ran through the wood past his horse, weaving among the trees. With the rough pace, she jolted against his back. She could not believe his fearsome strength.
On the trail just beyond the trees, blades clashed and clanged. The silhouettes of two warriors in a sword dual moved this way and that.
“Nay!” a woman yelled. “Cease!”
“Indeed, that is Isobel,” Seona whispered, the sensation of chilled water flowing in her veins.
“Leave him alone, you bastard!” Isobel yelled.
“Go, Isobel! Run!” a man commanded. Though enraged, his voice sounded familiar. Dirk?
Aye, he was one of the men fighting, yelling scathing Gaelic insults and curses at his opponent.
Chapter Six
Quietly, Keegan carried Seona on his back through the trees and closer to the edge of the dark forest. Loud shouts from the two warriors and the clangs of their blades filled the night air.
“’Tis Chief Dirk, fighting with someone,” Seona whispered into Keegan’s ear.
“Aye.” But he couldn’t tell which of the outlaws challenged him. Dirk could take care of himself, but protecting Isobel while fighting would be much harder. “Wait right here, behind this tree,” Keegan whispered, lowering Seona to the ground next to a larger tree. Hopefully, wearing his dark plaid, she would be well-hidden behind the trunk. He wanted her close-by so he could protect her should the outlaw flee Dirk’s wrath. “I’ll get Isobel.”
“Have a care.”
“Aye.”
Keegan rushed to the perimeter of the wood. He didn’t wish to distract Dirk, but he had to be sure Isobel remained safe, especially since she hadn’t run like Dirk had ordered her to. Stubborn woman. She stood thirty feet behind Dirk, well out of range of the two fighters, but still too close for his comfort.
“Isobel. ’Tis me, Keegan,” he said, still hidden in the shadow of the trees, though likely his pale linen shirt could be seen in the moonlight. “Come.”
She gasped and sent a quick glance his way. “Nay. We must help Dirk!”
Keegan crept closer, unable to recognize Dirk’s opponent inthe low light. “Who is he fighting?”
“Nolan MacLeod.”
The bastard who had tried to rape Isobel last year? Keegan had never met him, but he’d seen him from a distance.
“Dirk can handle him. Come into the wood where you can hide with Seona.”
In the next instant, Nolan’s sword flew into the air and he fell backward, yelling and grabbing his throat. He sprawled down the embankment, his head almost in the water of the stream. After a few moments, he grew silent and still.
Dirk’s loud breaths were the only sounds in the darkness. Isobel ran to him and he drew her close with one arm.
“Are you injured?” she asked.
“Nay,” Dirk said. “Are you?”
“Nay.”
“Thank the saints. When he snatched you from the tent and took off, I thought my life was over.” Dirk pulled Isobel tighter against him and kissed her.
Keegan moved out of the tree line and closer to the unmoving body of Nolan MacLeod. An ugly dark gash marred his throat.
“Is the bastard dead?” Dirk asked.
Nolan’s eyes gleamed wide and sightless in the moonlight. “Aye. Looks that way.”
