Page 60 of Cherished By A Highlander

Shade was headed back to the keep, an ache in her shoulders and back from a day of tending to more wounded MacLeish warriors who found their way home and continuing to tend to the wounded already home. The air was chilly and filled heavily with delicious scents from several bubbling cauldrons throughout the village, supper close to being ready. She caught sight of her husband deep in talk with Nug.

Three days had passed since he had told her about Amara and try as she might, she could not recall the woman. From Quint’s description she was not a woman who would be easily forgotten. Long dark hair. Pale, unmarred skin. Startling blue eyes and the softest voice. She would recall such a woman, but she didn’t. So how was she responsible for Amara’s death?

It was a mystery and one that kept her husband from her. He hadn’t kissed or touched her in the last three days. He did sleep beside her but if she woke snuggled against him, he was quick to leave their bed. The message from his dead wife had opened the wound of losing her and added to the guilt of having fallen in love with her before he had finished avenging Amara’s death. It made his love for Amara seem less important. So, to punish himself he avoided her. Unfortunately, he was also punishingher as well and robbing them of what she was sure Amara would want for him… happiness. How she could make Quint see that, she didn’t know.

“Move your sorry arse!”

Shade stopped and turned to see Angus being shoved through the village, his hands tied and dried blood covering one side of his face and his one eye bruised and swollen shut. Two other wounded warriors, their hands tied as well, were shoved along with him. Five men followed behind them, laughing as they taunted the wounded men.

Shade didn’t hesitate, she ran to Angus to help him.

One of the five men rushed forward and before Shade could reach Angus, the warrior gave her a vicious shove that sent her tumbling to the ground. A sharp stone caught just past the corner of her eye and blood began to pour from the wound.

Shade was swept up on her feet so quickly that she grew dizzy, and she was relieved to find her husband’s arm around her waist. But a frightful chill ran through her when she saw the fierce rage swirling in his eyes.

“Stand back or you’ll get the same as her,” the man who shoved her ordered.

The next thing Shade knew Nug’s hand gripped her arm, and her husband had his hand around the man’s throat and with a swift lift had his feet dangling just above the ground.

“You are going to die for harming my wife,” Quint threatened, the man digging desperately at Quint’s fingers in a useless effort to free himself.

Shade watched as Quint sent the man flying a good distance to land with a bounce on the ground, he tossed him so hard.

It all happened so fast that the other four men only now reacted, rushing toward Quint. He hit one then the other with two of the three daggers kept at his waist and had the last onein his hand before anyone could take a breath. “I will see you all dead if you take one more step.”

The two other men had stopped when they saw the dagger in his hand.

The man who led them paled. “You’re The Monk.”

There was no denying it now. Quint’s fearlessness, the rage burning in his eyes, the scowl that marred his fine features, and his skill with the daggers all made it clear that he was The Monk. But everyone stood silent waiting for him to confirm it, and he did.

“Aye, I am,” Quint said and went and retrieved his daggers from the two dead men, caring not what anyone thought, while keeping close watch on the three remaining men. Though the one he had nearly choked to death was in no condition to oppose him.

“Asher never said anything about The Monk being here, James. I want nothing to do with this.” The slim man turned to The Monk. “I have no fight with you. I’ll take my leave and keep my life.”

“Asher will make you pay for your disloyalty, Ewan,” the leader warned.

“Only if he survives The Monk. Besides, I will be long gone before then.”

“Tell me where Asher is,” The Monk said, “and I will not stop you from leaving.”

Ewan shook his head. “I don’t know where he went, but I do know he was furious when he received a message and left soon after ordering us here to make sure Clan MacLeish wasn’t planning any retaliation.”

“This is none of your concern,” James said with bravado that the tremor in his voice betrayed.

“You made it my concern when you harmed my wife,” The Monk said with an angry sneer that sent a shudder through James that all could see.

Still, James tried to speak bravely. “When Asher hears of this?—”

“Asher will hear of this only when I allow it,” The Monk said and looked at Ewan. “If you go to Asher with the news, I will hunt you down and your death will not be painless or quick.”

Ewan shook his head vigorously. “I know nothing. Absolutely nothing and you will never find me in this area again.”

“Go!” The Monk snapped and Ewan ran off as if the devil was chasing him. He looked at James. “You and your friend over there,” he said with barely a glance where the man lay, his breathing still labored. “Are now prisoners of Clan MacLeish.”

“This clan belongs to Lord Torrance,” James said.

“Not until he comes here and claims it.”

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