“Around a dozen at last count,” Keegan said. “Unless he’s hired more since that last skirmish.”
“We’re going to find out,” Cyrus said. “Prepare for battle, lads.”
“Their archer is deadly. Watch out for him,” Keegan warned.
None of them carried targes since they’d been headed out for deer stalking, not into battle, and had no way to deflect arrows that might fly at them.
Keegan hadn’t imagined Haldane would follow them here, but he shouldn’t be surprised, really. Haldane was a canny lad and determined to get what he wanted.
Shouts and running erupted up ahead, some of the men on horseback and others on foot. Most fled north, along the loch’s edge, while others scurried up the side of the mountain to the east. The MacKenzies and MacKays pursued those running along the loch’s edge. Easier pickings.
“Capture them,” Cyrus ordered. “I want to question the bastards.”
Keegan was glad to see they were gaining on the stragglers of the group.
One of the scrawny men, red-headed with a stringy beard—but unfortunately not Haldane—glanced back and screamed like a lass. He ran down the bank and into the loch. Fraser took after him, splashing through the shallows, latched a hand onto the plaid at his back and dragged him toward the bank. A struggle ensued,but Fraser, being taller and stronger, quickly disarmed him and shoved him up the bank onto dry ground.
Once Keegan saw Fraser and one of the MacKay guards had the outlaw well under control, he ran ahead to join the MacKenzies. He hoped they could catch several of the knaves.
Dermott threw a rock at another outlaw and hit his mark. With a dull thud, he crumpled to the ground and didn’t move.
Only one more was still within sight. He was taller and broader of shoulder with black hair. When he glanced back, Keegan didn’t recognize him. Picking up the pace, Keegan joined Cyrus in the pursuit.
An arrow jabbed into the ground near Keegan, spraying dirt and leaves. He jumped aside. “Arrows!” he warned Cyrus. Taking cover behind a tree trunk, he glanced up the steep, tree-covered hillside where the arrow had come from, seeing Gil and Haldane.
“Bastards. They’re up there!” Keegan pointed, then sheathed his sword and nocked an arrow. Aiming and drawing back, he let the arrow fly. It sailed through the trees a good distance but then stabbed into a tree trunk. “’Slud,” he muttered.
Taking cover near Keegan, Cyrus yelled back to his guards. “Shoot them!”
Keegan nocked another arrow, but Gil and Haldane disappeared before he could release it. Keegan ground his teeth. He wanted to chase them down like the vermin they were, but he was ill prepared at the moment. No armor, no targe.
The other outlaw they’d been pursuing along the loch had also vanished.
“Bastards,” Cyrus grumbled. “We’ll take these two prisoners to the castle, arm ourselves better, then come back and hunt down the rest of them.”
“Aye.” Keegan was glad Cyrus was also eager for a fight. “I want to hear what these two have to say.”
∞∞∞
Keegan didn’t recognize the two scraggly-bearded men being shepherded back to Teasairg Castle, their hands bound behind their backs, but they definitely looked like desperate criminals. No doubt Haldane had hired them.
The portcullis was raised and all of them strode into the bailey.
“Go get Chief MacKay,” Cyrus said to one of the maleservants. “Tell him we captured two of his brother’s men.”
“Aye, m’laird.” The servant hurried inside.
Keegan was surprised to see Dirk appear at the entrance a moment later. He must have been in the great hall for he couldn’t have had time to negotiate the stairs from the upper floor.
“Aye?” Dirk limped forward on the sturdy cane, his sharp blue gaze cutting to the outlaws. “Are these Haldane’s men?”
“Indeed, cousin,” Keegan said. “I remember that one from the skirmish we had north of Ullapool.” He nodded to the brown-haired one who had been knocked down by the rock. Blood soaked part of his hair and dripped onto his filthy clothing.
“Have they revealed anything as of yet?”
“Nay, I thought I’d let you question them,” Cyrus said.
“Did Haldane MacKay hire you?” Dirk asked the two.
