Page 112 of Highlander Lord Of Vengeance

Esme pressed a hand to her mouth, barely stifling the sob that rose.Don’t fall. Don’t fall. Don’t let this be the day I lose you.

Then she heard it… a horn.

It echoed across the hills and every head turned, even the enemy stilled.

Over the rise, they came.

First Hakon, his long hair wild, his axe raised high, his troop of warriors behind him roaring like thunder. Fierce men with faces painted and weapons swinging ready to battle. They poured down the hill like a flood let loose from the heavens.

To the side, to her shock and relief, came Knox.

His mount tore through the grass, and his warriors thundered behind him, blades drawn, battle cries fierce. His mare reared as he shouted to his men to go faster.

Then to her even greater surprise came the third wave.

A shout rose from the left, and down from the woods rode a dark-haired man, his expression grim, with a savage band of mercenaries at his back. They charged with blades and clubs, roaring curses and war cries, descending into the village like the hounds of hell let loose.

She knew by reputation it could be only one person---The Monk, the mercenary all mercenaries feared.

The enemy broke, fear and confusion sweeping through their ranks.

Esme’s chest seized with something close to awe. Then she sobbed once, loud and sharp, full of disbelief and grateful relief.Ryland’s friends had come to help him, and she realized then that he must have sent for them, feeling they might be needed. And they were.

Ryland and Clan Glencairn would not fall today.

She turned, breathless, eyes stinging, ready to enter the keep, and froze.

Roland stood nearly on top of her, blood on his face and garments, and a dagger in his hand.

CHAPTER 31

Roland stepped closer, his breath ragged, a smear of dried blood across his jaw. “Don’t scream,” he warned. “I’ll cut you if you scream, try to run, or don’t obey my every word.”

Esme’s heart thundered as she simply nodded.

One step and he was on her, the cold press of steel meeting her side as he grabbed her arm and forced her down the stairs.

“Move,” he ordered.

She stumbled forward, nearly falling, the edge of the stone step slick with snow, if it wasn’t for his hand like a shackle on her arm.

“You’re going to be the price,” he hissed against her ear, “for all of it.”

She didn’t answer. She would not give him the satisfaction of showing fear. Ryland still battled, believing her safe in the keep. She had been foolish. She should have listened to him. He would not know she was gone before it was too late. She had no choice. She had to find a way to escape. She had told him to survive, and she needed to do the same.

Enough snow covered the ground keeping them moving slowly as Roland dragged her around the side of the keep. Theycrossed the frozen garden path, heading for the stone wall that lined the rear courtyard. The woods loomed just beyond that, and she feared once they entered there, she might never escape him. She glanced back over her shoulder, just once, hoping, but no one followed. She truly was on her own.

But someone saw them, a shadow watching.

Roland didn’t notice. He shoved her forward again toward the woods cursing under his breath as he slipped on a patch of ice.

He tightened his grip each time she tried to slow her steps, his fingers dug into her arm, forcing her to match his pace. The cold bit through her shoes. Her toes ached. But her mind raced faster than her feet. If she didn’t act now, she’d lose her chance.

Just before they reached the edge of the woods, Esme wrenched her arm hard to the side and kicked at the snow-covered ground. Her foot struck a buried stone, and she stumbled, falling hard onto her side.

Roland snarled and lunged for her.

Esme scrambled, slipping, gasping, and surging up, bolting toward the keep. If she could get around the side?—

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