Page 19 of Sins of the Highlander

One wolf continued to lunge and tried to scuffle up the trunk. Elspeth caught a whiff of his stinking breath as he snapped at her, but unless he sprouted wings, she was out of reach.

“Whatever happens, dinna come down till I say,” Rob ordered as the pack turned its attention from her to the man on the prime piece of horseflesh.

The wolves formed a ring of snarling muzzles around Rob and Falin. Their breath rose in a haze, like a smoke ring from a giant’s pipe. Elspeth counted fifteen big beasts with several smaller ones hanging back in the deeper shadows, yipping encouragement.

Rob pivoted the snorting stallion in a tight circle, so he could keep an eye on the restive crowd. The wolves called to one another, coordinating their coming attack. The sound raked Elspeth’s spine like a claw. The unholy chorus rose and then stopped suddenly, as if the song was a thread snipped off with shears.

“Come, ye sons of bitches!” Rob growled into the sudden silence. “If ye want us, ye must take us. I give ye worm-eaten bastards leave to try!”

Elspeth had seen fearsome things in the hall of dreams. The Sight had sometimes taken her repeatedly to the aftermath of a great battle of some sort, and she woke from such bloody visions sickened to her soul. But she’d never seen anything as terrifying as the sudden attacking leap of the wolves on this man and his horse.

They came in waves, snarling and snapping. One managed to land on the stallion’s back behind Rob, going for his unprotected neck. Falin screamed and reared, lashing out with his hooves, and the wolf slid off, raking the stallion’s flanks with his claws. Rob’s blade sang a song of blood and whipped around to shear off the beast’s head.

Falin’s kicks sent a few wolves flying as Rob laid about with his claymore. Man and horse, they fought in concert. They fought for their lives.

As the battle wore on, Falin stumbled on fallen wolf carcasses but managed to keep his feet. The ground was black with blood. Rob roared as he slashed his blade, sounding as wild and vicious as any four-legged predator.

The numbers of the pack dwindled. As the eastern sky lightened to pearl gray, hope rose in Elspeth’s heart.

Then the largest wolf charged and leaped. His flying lunge knocked Rob from Falin’s back. They rolled together, tooth and claw, man and blade, off the path and into the thick underbrush, disappearing in a growling, swearing mass.

Chapter 6

Lachlan Drummond and Alistair Stewart reined their horses to a halt at the top of the rise. The sun eased over the southeastern hills, but it promised no additional warmth. The day was breaking cold and bitter as a spinster’s bed.

“This is the last place we spotted them,” Drummond said, scouring the valley from south to north. A light frost painted each leaf and blade of grass with a crust of white. “They weren’t that far ahead of us at that point. Then once we reached here, they were nowhere to be seen. We headed south, thinking he’d try to confuse us by the river.”

Stewart frowned at him and glared in the direction Lachlan pointed.

“We followed the watercourse for several miles, looking for a place he might have crossed over, but there was no sign of them. It was as if they’d vanished.” Drummond shook his head and made the sign against evil. “I’m not a man given to fancies, but if ye told me they were swallowed up into the hollow hills, I’d believe ye.”

“Ye’d best hope not,” Stewart said, leaning on the pommel of his showy saddle. “If we canna find my daughter, our accord is off. All of it.”

There was too much riding on his alliance with the Stewart clan for Lachlan to let it fall apart. “Now, see here—”

“No. You see. I’ll no’ make an ally of a man who canna even defend his bride at the altar.”

“Your men were there, as well as mine. Why didna one of ye stop the MacLaren?” Lachlan said. “For the same reason I didna. There were women and children about, and none of us were armed. There was nothing to be done but let the madman get away, and well ye know it.”

The older man shook with suppressed rage. “I’m no’ talking about what happened at the kirk. Why didna ye post guards outside? Or ride patrols through your woods?” He turned an accusing eye on Lachlan. “Most importantly, why did ye no’ settle this matter with Mad Rob before he dragged my Elspeth into your quarrel?”

“What would ye have had me do?” Lachlan urged his horse forward, hoping a change of scene would change the topic. He heard Stewart’s horse follow him down the slope.

“What he wanted. All the man asked was satisfaction,” Stewart said. “Ye should have met him in single combat afore it came to this.”

“Aye, that would have been grand. First, the lady dies in my keeping, and then I kill her husband.” Lachlan slanted an assessing gaze at the other man. Obviously, the Stewart had been listening to his wife whine all night and needed to purge her words from his head. A man would have followed the logic of the situation through to its unhappy conclusion. “Ye’re no’ thinking clearly, Stewart.”

“I’m thinking ye’re afraid to face the MacLaren.”

“A man with a clear conscience fears nothing.” Lachlan glared at his bride’s father. “If ye were any other man, I’d kill ye for the insult.”

“Ach, well, dinna stand on ceremony. Whenever ye feel man enough to try it—”

“Whist, man. Do ye hear yourself? What would your daughter say if she saw us at each other’s throats like a pair of rabid hounds?” Lachlan turned his horse’s head south once he reached the base of the hill. “It will no’ help Elspeth if we…”

A spot of color caught his eye, near an outcropping of dark granite. It was far too late in the season for any blooms.

“The bride wore a rosy-colored bodice, did she no’?” Lachlan asked. He’d noticed, because the swell of Elspeth’s breasts had pinked to almost the same hue when she caught him looking at them during the interrupted ceremony.