Page 8 of The Highlander Who Loved Me

They might be ill dressed and dirty, but they did not look undernourished. To a man they were broad of shoulder, each with a predatory gleam in his eye. If they attacked, James would be outnumbered and outmatched. She did not doubt that he would fight to the death, but that valor would end in tragedy for both of them.

Davina’s throat tightened again. They had to get out of there. She put a hand on James’s back to steady herself and felt him draw himself to his full height.

“Ye cannae fight them all,” she whispered.

“I can. I will.” His voice was strong and reassuring, but Davina knew it was an impossibility.

No longer able to restrain herself, she spoke. “Ye are on Armstrong land. If ye have business with the laird, then ride to the castle. If not, then ye best be gone before ye are discovered. My uncle does not take kindly to trespassers.”

“I see no Armstrong soldiers, lass,” the tallest man sneered, his hand going to his sword in a threatening gesture. “Only a single knight and a frightened female, who doesn’t know when to stay quiet.”

He let loose a merciless bark of laughter, but it was the gloating expression on his face that brought a shiver of fear to Davina’s heart. Struggling to ignore the desperation she felt, she faced the brigand with a cold stare.

“Ye would be wise to heed my advice,” she declared steadily.

Her words were met with more whoops and hollers from the men. As they were joking among themselves, James suddenly let out a bloodcurdling yell and charged them at a full run. The sound nearly scared the wits out of Davina.

She watched in horrified awe as James cut the leader down with a single, deep sword strike across the belly, then punched a second man in the face.

Davina heard the outlaw scream and clutch his nose. A stream of blood shot through his fingers before he swayed and crumbled to the ground. Swords drawn, two others charged James, but he managed to hold his position and deflect the blows.

“Run, Davina!”

Reacting to the sharpness of James’s voice, she followed his command, but one of the outlaws was fast upon her. Davina got no farther than a few steps before a strong arm snaked around her waist and hauled her to the ground.

Lancing pain shot through her body and she hit the dirt hard. She tried rolling away, toward the safety of the trees, but a beefy hand grasped her shoulder and turned her on her back. Davina opened her mouth to scream, and her attacker raised his fist and struck her.

Stunned, she stilled momentarily. Pressing the advantage, the man straddled her waist. Her legs kicked wildly as she struggled against the brute who tried to pin himself on top of her, but she could not escape. She fought him with both her arms and legs, flailing, using every ounce of her strength.

He grunted, then clamped his hand over her mouth, cutting off her air. She tried to gasp for breath, but the filthy hand tightened its grip.

Davina batted at his chest and hands to no avail. Above her she could hear the clash of swords, the grunts and straining of the combatants. Fear and desperation combined and robbed her of the ability to do anything else but pray.Please, oh, please, dear God, dinnae let James fall.

Somehow she managed to turn her head. She heard a loud cry and saw James’s opponent clutch his sword arm. Blood spurted through the fingers pressed against the wound. The man let out a loud curse before collapsing on the ground. Another brigand jumped into the fray. He was the largest of the group and it soon became apparent his skill with the sword was superior to the others.

He struck relentlessly, pushing James back. Somehow, James managed to stay on his feet, but Davina could see he was tiring with each parry, blowing out a loud breath with each swing of his sword.

James lifted his leg, planting it in the center of his attacker’s chest, and sent him flying through the air. The man landed on his back. Bellowing with outrage, he scrambled to his feet and picked up his sword. Davina could see the murderous intent in his eyes as he advanced on the unarmed James, but just as he drew near, James pulled a thin-bladed dirk from his boot and plugged it into his attacker’s chest.

Davina felt her own heart explode with hope at the sight.

James is winning!Seeing that stiffened her resolve to somehow escape. Gathering her wits, she planned her next move. Her blood throbbed wildly as she reared up again, swallowing back the revulsion that filled her when she caught sight of the brute on top of her. She renewed her struggles, straining away from her captor, but his grip was unyielding.

The hope she had so recently found quickly abandoned her as she saw her captor once again raise his arm. She shifted her body, trying to avoid his fist a second time, but an explosive pain in her head let her know she had failed.

Her ears rang, her brain scrambled, and the very last thing she heard before being plunged into darkness was James’s cry of distress, followed by a chorus of crude male laughter.

James awoke with a start, wincing as a stabbing pain sliced through his throbbing skull. He turned his head only to find himself struggling to overcome an attack of light-headedness. Blackness whirled around him, forcing him to shut his eyes and press his head against the pillow.

Deep breaths, deep breaths.

Gradually, the fog surrounding him eased, replaced by an onslaught of agony so sharp it stole the breath from his body. Every inch of him, from his scalp to his toes, ached and throbbed with a fiery pain. Dizzy and sweating, James pulled himself into a sitting position, only to immediately slump back down.

Bloody hell, what’s wrong with me?

He did not want to open his eyes, but finally, slowly, he did. Thoughts churning, he lifted the blanket covering his naked body. James glanced down and cringed, his blurry eyes taking in the sight of bloody bandages swathing his arm, chest, belly, and legs. He blew out another puzzled breath, but then suddenly his throat seized as faint memories of the attack filled his aching head.

“Davina,” he whispered.

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