Page 20 of The Highlander Who Loved Me

“Ye shall say nothing to Sir Malcolm,” Davina insisted, in a stern voice that she hoped brooked no argument.

Colleen merely clucked her tongue a second time and shook her head. But she loyally kept silent when they gathered to depart.

Tucking a windblown strand of hair back behind her ear, Davina settled her aching muscles atop her mount and said a silent prayer that she would be able to stay there without being in total agony. The path curved sharply as they left the abbey courtyard and Davina was grateful it required a slower pace. Yet all too soon they reached an open stretch of road.

After two hours of hard riding, they finally slowed. Breathless and aching, Davina nudged her mount forward across a small stream. The wind rustled the few leaves that clung to the trees that crowded the path. Forced to ride in single file, as the trees grew thicker, Davina cautiously watched her horse’s footing, since large tree roots and stumps lined the road.

Soft light filtered through the canopy of branches over their heads. If her muscles had not been aching so fiercely, Davina knew she would have enjoyed this rare taste of freedom. She sighed, then stilled as she felt an odd tingling sensation down the back of her neck. She turned to gaze through the sparse winter foliage, thinking she saw a movement of something.

She opened her mouth to ask Colleen if she had seen anything when a tree crashed in front of them and a battle cry mingled with the thundering sound of approaching horses suddenly filled the air. Time seemed to hang suspended as Davina watched a contingent of men break through the woods from both sides of the narrow road. Swords raised, they attacked with precision and force.

Riding in the lead, Sir Malcolm turned, his face contorting into a surprised frown and then his voice rang out loud and clear, “’Tis an ambush! McKenna to me!”

Though taken by surprise, the McKenna retainers quickly organized. They somehow formed a protective ring around Davina and Colleen in the small space and bravely faced this unknown enemy. The air soon filled with the ringing of clashing steel, the shouts of men, the screams of horses.

Their attackers wore no clan colors, yet they fought with training and skill. As the battle raged, they drew close enough that Davina could see the cold, bloodthirsty expressions on their faces. Her heart missed several beats and started to pound erratically. She swayed as a wave of nausea overtook her, nearly causing her to fall from her mount. But Colleen’s scream of fright as a McKenna warrior fell pulled Davina from her fear.

She grasped the reins of the widow’s horse and tugged insistently, hoping to lead them both farther into the center of the circle. A part of her wished she could shut her eyes to the sights around her, but Davina feared being caught unawares. If somehow their side lost, she would not go blindly to her death—she would look upon the face of the man who dared to plunge a dirk into her heart.

Despair ravaged through her as the memories of another time, another attack, clouded her thoughts. But today it was different. Though outnumbered, the odds were not as lopsided. Though she almost dared not to believe it, Davina could see that the tide was turning.

The McKenna retainers had beaten back several of the attackers, while sustaining only a few injuries of their own. Her breath began to slow and then suddenly a deep-throated scream from one of the men startled her horse. The animal reared. Davina clung tightly to the reins, but her balance was compromised.

She hit the ground hard, pain shooting through her entire body. Terrified, she curled into a ball, trying to protect herself from being stomped by the horses’ hooves. A dozen thoughts and fears flitted through her mind, but she had little time to think. All she could do was keep her body as small and still as possible—and pray.

A hazy blur surrounded her as the ringing in her ears put her in a confused fog. Gradually, the sounds of battle eased. After what felt like an eternity, a shadow fell across her. Nearly hysterical with fear, Davina nevertheless managed to keep her eyes open as she lifted her head.

A frowning Sir Malcolm gazed down at her, concern lining his face. He gently cupped her cheek to look into her eyes. “Are ye hurt, Lady Davina?”

“I dinnae think so,” she whispered through trembling lips.

With infinite care, Sir Malcolm slowly ran his hands over her body, searching for injuries. Davina’s mind was still so filled with shock and fear she didn’t even flinch at the intimate gesture.

“Ye appear fine.” Gently, he helped her to her feet.

Davina leaned heavily on him, averting her eyes from the prone bodies that lay unmoving upon the ground. “Colleen? Where is Colleen?”

“I’m safe, milady.”

The sound of the other woman’s voice brought a rush of relief to her heart. Davina stumbled forward and the two women embraced, clinging tightly to each other. Try as she might, Davina was unable to cease her shivering. Odd how blue the sky was, with nary a cloud to be seen, yet in her mind’s eye all she could see was darkness, all she could feel was terror.

“How fare the men?” she heard Sir Malcolm ask.

“Young Edgar has a gash on his arm and a nasty cut over his eye that willnae stop bleeding. And Harold’s shoulder has been cut clear through to the bone,” one of the retainers replied.

Sir Malcolm cursed beneath his breath, the sound drawing Davina away from her own fears. “Colleen and I will tend to them,” she announced.

Her hands shook slightly as she pulled a clean linen from under gown and the small vial of medicine from the trunk strapped to the back of her horse. She and Colleen made their way over to the men, who had been propped up against a tree trunk.

Davina’s belly heaved at the sight of so much blood and mangled flesh, but she swallowed it down. These men had become injured while trying to protect her; the least she could do was see to their comfort.

Fresh water was brought so the wounds could be cleansed. Davina’s healing skills were limited, but thankfully Colleen had experience with stitching deep wounds. She assisted the widow with the gory task and following her instructions carefully bound the wounds with strips of cloth she had torn from her gown.

“No need to ruin such a fine garment on my account, milady,” young Edgar said, shy gratitude in his voice.

Davina smiled at the lad, judging him to be no more than fifteen or sixteen years old. “I am honored to make such a small sacrifice in light of all that ye and yer brave comrades have done to protect me and Colleen,” Davina answered.

“Och, ye had me worried fer a minute, lad,” Sir Malcolm interrupted. “I thought yer injuries severe, but if ye have the strength to flirt with a pretty lass, then I know ye’ll be fine.”

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