Highland Thief by Alyson McLayne

Nineteen

Kerr grabbed Diabhla’s reins, darted toward Isobel, and grabbed her hand. “Run!” he whispered, his tone urgent.

The lean-to was right beside the tree line—the entrance facing away from the cabin and the approaching warriors. They dashed into the woods, and Kerr hoped like Hades the enemy hadn’t seen them.

But that would only buy them a small lead. The other men would find the bodies soon, and if they had a good tracker, they would be on their trail in minutes.

“What did you see?” Isobel asked, her breath heavy as she raced beside him through the trees.

“More soldiers. The man who attacked you must have run back for reinforcements. I should have checked the bodies immediately.”

Inside, he raged at himself, furious that he’d delayed and put Isobel at risk. If she hadn’t forced him to listen to her, or if she’d been agreeable to his advances, they’d be caught in the cabin right now.

“How many men?” Isobel asked.

“I doona know. I think ’tis an army heading toward my clan. Scattered, most likely, to avoid detection. We’re right in the thick of it.”

He slowed and then leapt into the saddle and pulled Isobel up in front of him. His first instinct was to get to the creek and try to lose the men tracking them. After that, if they followed in the direction of the current, they’d end up at the beach where Eirik said he’d stashed his longship—hopefully.

“Where are we going? Do you have a plan?” she asked, her voice tight and worried.

He squeezed his arm around her waist. “We need to get back across the loch. Then I need to get home.”

“Not without your allies. Kerr, you canna attack them on your own.”

“I need to be with my clan, Isobel, to defend against these invaders. I need to lead my people. We have spies inside. Betrayers. I canna wait.”

“And me?” she asked.

He hadn’t thought that far ahead. He only knew one thing. “Safe.”

“I am safe. With you.”

“As long as there’s breath in my body, aye.”

A shrill whistle sounded behind them, and men yelled in the distance—from different directions.

Kerr cursed and guided Diabhla onto the trail they’d walked along yesterday. He let the stallion gallop full out, and they arrived at the creek within minutes. Diabhla leapt into the water, and Kerr directed him against the current—in the opposite direction of the loch—and looked for a way up the other bank that would track the horse’s prints.

A muddy path appeared, and they climbed it before emerging onto a grassy trail heading north. He scanned the ground as they rode. They needed a place they could veer off the trail again without the warriors in pursuit noticing. When they came across a rocky section, he slowed.

In the distance, men yelled to one another, and he fought the urge to rush.

“What are you doing?” Isobel asked, panic in her voice. “Shouldnae we be heading back to our boat? ’Tis the other way!”

“Aye, we will, but first I want them to think we’re heading this way. The fewer men on our heels the better.” He brought Diabhla to a halt near the edge of the trail. A tall, sturdy oak with long branches hung over it.

He slid from the saddle and dug into his saddlebag, pulling out four small bags with drawstrings.

“What are those for?” Isobel asked.

“To wrap over Diabhla’s hooves. The material will obscure his tracks.” He crouched and quickly moved around the horse, securing the covers.

When he was done, he laid a few stones back in place that his own feet had dislodged, and then mounted again. This time, however, he rose, stood on the horse’s back, and pointed to the branch above. “If I lift you, can you climb up, move to the trunk, and make your way down? Follow one of the lower branches as far into the woods as possible.”

She nodded, and he helped her up. Diabhla stood steady as she bent over to tie her skirt up between her legs.

He’d just lifted her when he heard horses splashing in the water down the trail behind them. Isobel wrapped her legs around the trunk. “Go,” she said as she pulled herself up. “I can manage.”

A shout filled the air, and he glanced over his shoulder. “They’ve found our trail.”

When he looked back, Isobel had already crawled halfway to the trunk of the tree. He wanted to shout instructions to her, tell her to hide, but she was an intelligent, resourceful woman. She didn’t need his guidance.

He sat and urged Diabhla forward, breaking into a gallop. Ahead, the trail veered to the right. Kerr leaned forward over the stallion’s neck and held on, his knees pressing tightly to the horse’s sides.

“Gearr leum!” he commanded, directing the stallion to the left rather than following the trail. The horse jumped a good twenty paces into a small, grassy clearing, and then raced into the woods.

Kerr found the densest foliage to hide behind and watched, breath held, as fifteen enemy warriors passed by. He couldn’t tell if the man with the scars was among them.

After they disappeared, he removed the bags from Diabhla’s feet and circled back through the woods to find Isobel. She was still up in the tree, but on a branch, thick with leaves, that extended far into the woods.

“Do you think that’s all of them?” she asked, as she lowered herself onto the saddle and settled in front of him. She sounded anxious, and for a moment, Kerr considered lying to her. But she deserved to know. And if anyone could handle the truth, it was her.

“Nay, lass,” he said, as he directed Diabhla toward the loch and spurred him into a trot. “I think we’ll come across small pockets of them throughout the forest. Some will know we’re here and will be looking for us. Some won’t. They’re heading in secret toward my clan. I had hoped more would follow our false trail.”

“How can we possibly make it back to our boat with so many of them out there?”

“We willna have to. Eirik told me he left his boat on a beach not far from here. I’m hoping he hasn’t moved it. We should be able to make it there without too much trouble.”

Now he was lying to her. “Whate’er happens, I’ll keep you safe, Isobel.”

They moved as swiftly and quietly as possible, staying off the game trails. Oftentimes, Kerr relied on Diabhla to let him know when someone was approaching. His stallion would tense, turn his head, or swivel his ears. Several times they had to hide as enemy warriors rode past.

One of the groups had upwards of fifty men. They hid behind a thick prickly bush to avoid being seen. Kerr had his sword in hand and his dagger clenched between his teeth, ready to fight. One young soldier stopped to pick some berries and almost lost his life because of it.

When it was safe, they continued on, always keeping the creek on their left but staying away from the bank.

“Are they heading toward the loch too?” she whispered. “Will they have a boat there?”

“Nay, I doona think so. They’d need several big ships to get them across, and that would draw too much attention. They’ll ride to the end of the loch, and from there, head straight toward Clan MacAlister.”

“How will they get through your borders?”

“They’ll have a way. Same as they snuck through Callum’s borders last year and through your borders in the spring.”

“And they were defeated both times. And before that, against Darach and Lachlan. We’ll defeat them this time too, Kerr.”

“Aye, lass. I promised you a clan to lead by my side. I willna be losing it now. And I willna leave our people at risk.”

She squeezed the hand he rested on her waist. “Nay, we will not.”

***

Isobel could smell the loch and knew they were close to the beach.

Thank God!

As deathly afraid of the water as she was, she couldn’t wait to get on the boat and away from their enemy. She would worry about drowning once they were out of range of any arrows or daggers like the one Kerr currently held in his fist. She knew they’d be vulnerable once they reached the beach, and she prayed they’d be able to find the boat easily.

A fine tremor ran through Diabhla, and she leaned forward and stroked her hand along his neck, trying to calm him. She understood how he felt. Behind her, Kerr stiffened, and he tugged on the reins so the stallion veered into a copse of birch trees.

“Shhhhhh,” he whispered to her.

Not again!

She closed her eyes and swallowed. Never again would she bemoan the fact that she hadn’t been trained to fight. Swords and knives flying at her head in real life wasn’t nearly as exciting as it was when she imagined it happening on some great adventure.

She heard horses approaching and then a twig snap. Lifting her lids, she squinted through her lashes toward the trail. Kerr had warned her that if he was forced to fight, she would have to dismount. As much as she wanted to hide away, she needed to see what was happening in case she had to get down in a hurry.

Four burly warriors on sturdy horses were passing their copse about fifteen paces away, and she squeezed her lips together to stop a fearful squeak from escaping. If any of them were to glance in their direction, surely they would be seen. The cluster of birch had small gaps between the trees, and while the huge stallion blended into the shadows, it was now midday and the sun was bright.

One of the other horses swiveled its ears and then turned its head toward them. It let out a nicker. Unlike Kerr, its rider ignored the warning.

Happily, Diabhla did not respond.

Kerr had been focused and abrupt since they’d been on the run, and while his attitude and demeanor—his intensity—had irked and even scared her in the past, in the face of real danger she found it comforting.

She knew that this man, her almost-husband—although she planned to argue that fact when the time was right—would keep her alive. The fact that he’d tricked her into handfasting him under questionable circumstances could be sorted out when they were safe.

The last rider was almost past them when a bird trilled above their heads. Kerr tensed even further when the grim-looking warrior glanced up at the sound. After a moment, he dropped his gaze down again, but then realization hit, and he spun his head back toward them, eyes wide. Kerr’s dagger quickly lodged itself into his forehead, knocking the man backward.

Before he even hit the ground, another dagger pierced the rider in front of him in the side of the neck. That man let out a strangled yelp as he fell, blood squirting out from the wound and alerting the two men ahead of him to the danger. Kerr’s third dagger missed by inches as his next target spun around.

Isobel found herself dislodged from Diabhla without even a warning. She landed on her feet and took several unsteady steps back as the stallion leapt past her through the trees. Kerr was leaning forward, his claymore raised in one hand and his body poised for battle.

His huge sword was a perfect fit for such a massive warrior.

He charged toward the two remaining soldiers. One of the horses reared back and almost dislodged its rider. When the horse came back down, Kerr thrust upward with his sword and pierced through the man’s body before he had a chance to regain his balance.

The last warrior turned and spurred his horse away from the fight. Kerr leaned over and pulled his still-vibrating dagger from the tree it had landed in moments ago and flung it at the retreating soldier. The blade hit the man squarely in the back, and the last of their enemy fell.

The sudden silence was deafening, and Isobel stared at the scene of blood and carnage in shock. Like before, once the conflict had started, the men had died at Kerr’s hand in moments—all four of them.

She took a deep breath, and then another, wanting to stay strong for him, to show the same kind of clarity and resolve as he had shown. He knew what had to be done to keep her safe, and he was doing it.

And she wanted to be…worthy of him.

Aye, this man, this laird and warrior, had only one thing in mind—to protect her, to protect his clan, and to protect his friends and family. And he succeeded…every…single…time.

He was deadly…yet magnificent.

How did I not see this before?

“Isobel, come,” he said curtly, his sword hilt already poking up from behind his shoulder. “We have to keep moving.”

He retrieved his daggers from the first two men who had died, wiped them on a patch of grass, and then re-sheathed them along each arm. She tried to step forward, but her knees had weakened, and she didn’t think she could walk. Her chin wobbled at her helplessness, and she hugged the tree for support.

God’s blood, she was back to feeling useless, when yesterday she’d felt invincible!

He didn’t say a word as he rode back to her, lifted her into place, and then cantered Diabhla to the last man killed, so he could draw his dagger and sheath it at his waist.

“’Twas necessary to kill him,” he said gruffly, as if forcing out the words. “He would have brought more men down upon us, aye?”

She nodded, and then had to swallow before speaking. “Is that the end of it?”

He directed Diabhla off the trail again and kept going before answering. “I doona know. I suspect there will be men on the beach waiting for us. We’ll need to lay low and watch for a while, try to spot where Eirik might have hidden the boat and then…”

“And then what?” she croaked, but she knew what he was going to say.

“Kill as many men as I can so we can get to the boat unencumbered. Once I decide ’tis time to go, we’ll need to move quickly.”

She nodded, feeling a heaviness come over her. Or maybe she just stopped trying to fight it. She slumped against him, and his arm tightened around her waist. “You willna be harmed, Isobel. Ever.” He said it fiercely, like a savage warrior of old…and she knew it to be true.

But if something happened, and he did die here today, she would rather die with him than go with the men responsible.

“Kerr.” She said his name softly, not wanting to alert the enemy, but also because she felt vulnerable—physically and emotionally. But this time she allowed herself to stay with the feelings instead of pushing them down.

“Aye?”

“You ne’er doubted me.”

“Of course not…about what?”

Her heart squeezed. He didn’t even need to think about it. Or know what exactly they were talking about. His actions had shown his true estimation of her.

And revealed his true estimation to her.

“That the man had scars on his arm and hand. You ne’er doubted I’d seen them even though he wasn’t one of the dead men at the lean-to. Or that I could get down from that tree without being seen. You left me to crawl out of sight in time and stay out of sight without falling, believing I could do it.”

“Aye.”

He sounded a little confused, as if he didn’t understand why she was even bringing it up, and that made her heart squeeze a little more.

“It means a great deal to me. Thank you.” This time her voice was even softer.

“Always, Isobel.”

He stopped and slipped off Diabhla. Then he gave her his hand to help her down. She could see the loch through the break in the trees ahead, and she followed his lead, creeping forward carefully.

At the edge of the bluff, he lay on his belly. She did, too, and peered through the foliage. The creek they’d been following flowed out into the loch about twenty paces to their left. To her surprise, she couldn’t see any men on the beach, and relief flowed through her.

Now they just had to find the boat!

She turned to him, a wide, excited smile on her face, but he was peering at the sandy beach with a pensive expression. Her smile dipped, and she looked back, trying to understand what he was seeing—or wasn’t seeing.

“Did you expect to find men here?” she whispered.

He half shrugged. “Not exactly. The smart thing for them to do would be to stay hidden and draw us out. And if the man who grabbed you is who I think he is, he has proven himself more than smart over the last few years—also shrewd and careful. We canna underestimate him.”

He curled his fingers into circles, and then stacked his hands together like a telescope. With one eye closed, he looked through the tunnel at the beach. “I doona see him, but he’s there. It’s where I would be if I were him. He will have assumed we have a boat, and he’s sent men out to look for it.” He pointed to the side of the beach that stretched out on the other side of the creek from them. “My guess is he started searching at the opposite end from where we are. He thinks we came from the south—which we would have done if we’d landed here instead of where we did. Luck may be on our side this time.”

“Which means…we’re going over there?” She pointed her thumb in the opposite direction.

He nodded. “Eirik and Siv were coming from the north. I think he will have stashed the boat at the end of the beach on this side for a quicker escape. ’Tis more strategic.”

“And what you would have done.”

“Aye.”

He crawled backward, and then rose to a crouch and continued searching the trees, returning periodically to peek over the edge at the beach. Isobel searched too, but other than seeing the actual boat, she didn’t know what she was looking for. She wasn’t sure she was helping at all.

Diabhla followed them sedately, content to munch on whatever patch of grass he found. Isobel suspected he didn’t feel at all useless—not like she did.

When they reached the end of the beach and there was nowhere else to look, Kerr rubbed the back of his neck in frustration. “It must be on the other side of the creek.”

She looked deeper into the woods. “Why couldn’t he have hidden it farther in?”

“It’s a small longship, Izzy. Made for crossing the North Sea. It will be heavy. He wouldnae have pulled it farther than he had to.”

“How far would you have pulled it?” she asked.

His brow puckered a little, but he looked to the beach and then walked a few paces inland from where they were standing. And then a few more. “Up to about here, I guess.”

“Eirik is bigger than you. Stronger than you too, I’d wager.” He winced a little, and she rushed ahead, reassuring him. “Only a wee bit. But how much farther than you do you think he could have pulled the boat?”

His eyes grew thoughtful, and he nodded. He stepped farther into the woods, and then kept going. When he stopped, he stood about twenty paces away.

“Izzy,” he called her name softly.

She hurried forward. He was staring at a fallen tree and a clump of branches. He reached down and pulled away an armful of twigs and leaves. Underneath, a flat, carved piece of wood stuck out.

“What is that?” she asked.

He rubbed his palm over the wood, and then traced the sanded edges with his fingers. A small, satisfied smile curved his lips. “A rudder.” Then he turned to her and kissed her—brief and hard on the lips. “And I wouldnae have found it without you.”