Page 25 of Enchanted

Chapter Ten

Keiran rode beside Alastair as they made their way through the forestland. Their horses moved restlessly, their breath pluming in the cold morning air as each man searched the shadows made by the trees. Perhaps, based on the way the horses skittered, they sensed something the men did not. Keiran held up his hand, silently signalling for them all to stop.

In the silence Keiran listened. Nothing but the trickling of water in a nearby stream and birds chattering in the canopy above came to him. He narrowed his gaze, searching for something out of the ordinary, when finally he saw steam rising in the air like what the horses and they themselves generated, coming from behind a cluster of trees.

With a motion of his hand, Keiran signalled the direction and for the men to dismount and separate into two groups. One to head east, the other west, hopefully catching the hidden men unaware of their presence. Silently, Keiran drew his sword, and crouched low as he crept forward. Alastair did the same behind him. He could see Tormod and Graeme on the opposite side, closing in on the location of the breathing vapours.

They were close, so close.Keiran leapt forward along with Tormod, only to have four grazing deer leap from the cover of the shrubs and race into the distance.

In that same moment, two men sprang up from the foliage, their swords ready to strike. Keiran cursed himself for a fool that he had fallen for such a trick and lifted his sword to meet the blow aimed at his head. The sound of steel meeting steel echoed through the forest as the men who had attacked suddenly realised they were outnumbered. The man before Keiran turned and ran. Keiran pursued.

The man sprinted ahead, leaping over branches, ducking and weaving around pine and rowan trees that slowed his brothers down, but Keiran was used to running through the woods in Fairyland. The muscles in his thighs stretched as his legs pumped, propelling him through the forest, his stare intent on the man ahead of him.

He was closing in on his prey, his body responding to his every demand. He could run like this for hours without tiring, but he would need only one more moment to catch his enemy. Keiran was close enough now to hear the man’s laboured breathing as he leapt over a log. Keiran reached out to graze the man’s arm, but the man surged ahead, his muddy dark blue aura indicating his fear.

Keiran’s senses heightened as he ran faster. The sun’s rays filtered through the canopy above, casting dappled shadows on the ground as his feet pounded against the soft earth. He noted a slight twitch of the man’s head, indicating he would head right, towards the loch in the distance. Anticipating the shift, Keiran reached out just as he turned, grabbing then yanking his enemy against his body. They fell together onto the mossy forest floor. Grabbing the man’s wrists, Keiran raised them up over his head as he pinned the man beneath him.

The man glared as he thrashed beneath Keiran’s body.

“Surrender,” Keiran demanded.

“I would rather die than surrender to you,” the man spat at Keiran.

“That can be arranged,” Keiran said, rising off the man and dragging him to his feet. He secured the man’s hands behind him with a length of rope he drew from his sporran, just as Alastair skidded to a stop beside them.

“I had no idea you were so fast,” Alastair said between harsh breaths. “From now on you can chase all our enemies.”

“Did Tormod and Graeme catch the other one?” Keiran asked, leading their prisoner back the way they had come.

“I have no idea,” Alastair said. “I was so focused on trying to keep up with you I lost sight of them.”

The man dragged his feet, slowing their progress forward. “I asked you to kill me rather than take me prisoner.”

A wry chuckle escaped Keiran. “We are not going to kill you unless you refuse to answer our questions. For starters, why were you on MacLeod land?”

“I cannot tell you.” The man scowled. “No matter what I say, death awaits me.” His aura darkened. “Please, I beg you to end my life now before he does.”

“He?” Keiran asked as he and Alastair shared a glance. “We can protect you if you tell us what we need to know.”

“No, you can’t. You MacLeods have no idea who you are up against.” From his grasp on the man’s arm, Keiran could feel the man trembling. Who was this man so afraid of?

Once again Keiran shared a glance with Alastair. “The sooner we return to Dunvegan, the better,” Alastair said.

“Agreed.” Keiran forced the man up onto the saddle of his horse before mounting behind him. They only had to wait a few moments before Graeme and Tormod arrived with their prisoner.

“This one did not even put up a fight,” Graeme said, as Tormod secured the second prisoner on his horse.

The man’s black aura indicated negative emotions such as anger or resentment. Both fear and resentment were normal responses to the situation in which the men had found themselves. There was no indication of deception, for which Keiran was grateful, yet he still wanted to hurry back to the protective walls of Dunvegan with all due haste.

As they rode, Keiran clasped his muscular arm like a steel band around his enemy’s waist. He had managed to find the men his mother had warned them about only hours ago, meaning Rosalyn was safe for now. At the thought warmth flared in his chest, along with something else he did not want to name.

*

Back at Dunvegan,the men took the two prisoners into two separate chambers. Alastair oversaw the interrogation of the man who was angry and resentful in the great hall, while Keiran and Tormod attempted to break the more fearful man in the old keep that was still being refurbished.

The room they were in had not yet been enclosed, and a light breeze rippled through the unfinished chamber. The man sat in the chair in which they had placed him with his arms crossed before him, refusing to look at either Keiran or Tormod. “Who sent you?” Keiran asked, his voice booming in the open space as he fisted his hands, trying to stay in control. He wanted answers and would do almost anything to get them.

The man’s chin tilted up. He narrowed his eyes, the hate in them as sharp as a newly honed blade. “I have nothing to say to you.”