Page 56 of Highlander Lord Of Vengeance

A warrior burst into the firelight, breathless and bloodied but recognized, the warriors’ eyes rounding at the sight of Torrance.

“We’ve been betrayed!” he said, his breath labored. “By our own kind. I barely got away!”

Shock and uncertainty had warriors backing away from each other. Barely, a moment later, a warrior rode into camp from the opposite end, reining his horse hard, and yelling, “We’ve been betrayed.”

Torrance’s eyes narrowed, as he looked at every warrior in camp. “If you mean to betray me, do so now.”

Not one warrior stepped forward.

Even as he spoke, the night filled with distant shouts and the clash of steel, the sounds growing.

Torrance turned to his men. “We separate in twos, so they don’t know who to follow. Head back to the keep and whoever gets there first alerts Brack. Have him send only the most trusted warriors to search for those who don’t make it back and to see who we lost and who it was who betrayed us.”

His warriors hurried to do as he commanded.

Torrance summoned one of his warriors and they shared whispered words before he took off. Then he turned to Esme, his hand already reaching for her. “We ride one horse.” Her puzzled look had him explaining. “They will have no interest in following one rider.”

She nodded, understanding that they would be searching for Torrance and her, riding two horses, not one.

The warriors began to disperse but not before Torrance’s horse was brought to him. He lifted her up onto his stallion, then swung himself up behind her and tucked her tight against him. She wrapped her arm around his waist as he led them into the forest, the firelight fading behind them as the darkness closed in around them.

CHAPTER 16

Torrance rode with caution, keeping one arm locked around Esme as she slumped against him. She had finally surrendered to exhaustion. Her head rested near his shoulder, her whisper warm breath tickling at his neck.

It wasn’t easy maneuvering through the forest in the dead of night and only half a moon to light the way. But his stallion, dark as the night itself, moved with relentless purpose through narrow trails and over uneven ground, guided by Torrance’s steady hands on the reins. He barely noticed the biting wind or the way branches clawed at him. He was too busy keeping his eyes focused in the dark while his thoughts continued to spin darker than the path ahead.

How was it that his men had turned against him?

It wasn’t beyond belief. He had cultivated fear with ease, given reason for many to hate him, and trust was a luxury long stripped from his life. But to know betrayal was within his own ranks… it made him realize how desperate and dangerous the game he played could be.

He had risked much more than his life. Esme was now bound to that risk, and that weighed heavier than any blade.

By the time he spotted a low ridge nestled beneath a tangle of trees, the cold had seeped through his bones. He slowed the stallion and guided him off the trail to a narrow hollow, mostly shielded from the wind. There, between ancient trees and thick bushes, was space enough to hide for the night.

Torrance dismounted with care, cradling Esme in his arms as he slid to the ground. She stirred but didn’t wake, murmuring something unintelligible against his chest. He tucked her close to him, led the stallion to a patch of grass, then lowered Esme to the leaf-covered earth and joined her there. He took her into his arms wrapping his cloak around them both. With Esme beside him, her warmth pressed close, he kept his hand on the hilt of his sword, and waited for a light sleep, if sleep would come at all.

Above, the trees whispered secrets, and the stars remained hidden. As the fire of betrayal burned low in his chest, one thought lingered… time was running out. If he did not learn the truth soon… all would be lost, much more than he ever expected.

Torrance urgedhis stallion into a steady trot the next morning. The weight of the night clung to him, Esme’s warmth against him, the silence that bred too many thoughts, and the knowledge that time was slipping through his fingers like rainwater.

Esme wasn’t surprised when he had barely said two words to her this morning upon waking. He rushed her up onto his stallion and swung up behind her, and they were off. His tense body and the way his eyes continually scanned the area had her realizing they were not out of danger yet.

She had to ask, “Where do we go?”

“Clan Stott,” he said, never taking his eyes off their surroundings. “We’re not far from it.”

She blinked against the dull light, pulling her cloak tighter around her. “That’s where we were meant to take shelter today, is it not?”

He gave a short nod but said nothing more.

As the forest thinned, the land dipped into a small valley, and there a modest village sat tucked neatly against the hills… Clan Stott. Wisps of smoke curled lazily from thatched rooftops, and a few figures moved about busy with morning chores.

Torrance slowed the stallion to a stop, his eyes sharpening.

Esme followed his gaze, then felt him go rigid against her.

At the entrance to the village stood a mam, his aging frame still commanding, who Esme assumed was the clan chieftain. But it was not the chieftain Torrance watched, it was the man speaking with him.

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