Page 14 of Highlander Redeemed
But the lassie had pride enough for ten warriors, and he feared, if he said all of that to her, that fierce pride might overtake the lessons in humility and honor he had been trying to subtly instill in her. He did not wish to stoke that particular fire.
“Duncan,” she said, “what is your hurry? Tell me what you mean.”
She grabbed his sleeve and deftly turned him so he came to an immediate stop facing her. The familiar snap in her eyes was softened by ... doubt? Uncertainty?
He sighed, knowing he could not lie to her. He chose his words with great care. “I mean only that you are proving yourself equal to the task of becoming a warrior, and now you have revealed a skill that no one else has.”
“No one? Surely you ken things just as I do.”
“Nay, I do not. Do you think it would have taken me so long to find you as you trained if I had thisknowing? Do you think I would depend upon tracks and bits of broken plants and overturned moss when I must find someone?” He cocked one straight dark eyebrow at her since over the ten-and-eight years of her life she was often the one he tracked. “If I could butknowwhere my prey was, the way you kent where Maisie lay hidden, I would have need of none of those clues.”
He could see his words sinking in, and then she grinned. For a moment he thought she meant to kiss him again, too, but instead she strode past him.
“Well, haste ye on, then, sluggard! This is my way into the battle. We’ve a chief to convince!”
He shook his head, knowing he had not succeeded in keeping her pride out of it. He could only hope that Nicholas would not tarnish it too badly if he did not believe them.
SHOUTS AND WARcries echoed through the moonless night, raising Lord Sherwood’s hackles as he crouched in the dark with his men. How could the barbarian Scots see to attack the English camp in the inky darkness? He’d forbidden any fires, any lanterns, any candles after last night’s attack when the ghastly Highlanders had managed to kill several of his detachment and injure several more, somehow sneaking past the doubled guard keeping watch.
A Highlander pelted toward Sherwood in the dark, seeming to form out of nothing, screaming and shrieking like a banshee as he wheeled his two-handed sword to the left and the right around him as he ran, then disappearing into the night again without engaging. He could not tell if it was one man who did this or many, for they seemed to come from all directions, though not all at once. It was as if the Highlanders sought to confuse and rile more than to kill. The craven bastards had kept up this odd attack for hours, sometimes waiting so long between forays that the English were sure they had abandoned the game, only to rampage around the English encampment again, keeping them all awake, letting the fatigue grow.
Weariness from their rough passage on the ships had already slowed the detachment’s progress into the Highlands. The arguing amongst his detachment was rapidly getting beyond his control. Sleep-deprived tempers grew more and more combustible as bellies went empty, or nearly so, yet another day, for the few crofts they had come across had been abandoned, all food and drink missing with the crofters. As the Highlanders withdrew before the sky even began to lighten, as if they knew the exact moment the first wan light of day would break the night sky and turn it a leaden grey, Sherwood made his decision.
“Set the watches about the encampment,” he said to his second in command. “Bury any who have not survived the night, and have the cooks prepare anything they can. Anyone not on watch is to sleep. We shall meet the Highlanders here again tonight, rested and ready for them, and on the morrow we shall continue on for Glen Lairig.”
His second strode into the camp bellowing orders while Sherwood climbed up on a large boulder and scanned the countryside around him, planning his own surprises for the Highlanders.
Tonight he would turn the darkness to his advantage.
CHAPTER SEVEN
SCOTIA DID NOTslow down as she made her way to the caves. In spite of the aches and fatigue settling into her body, ’twas all she could do not to sprint back.
Her mind raced with the implications if her ability really could be used as a weapon. If she and Duncan could convince Nicholas that herknowing, something that she had not understood was unique to her, was of use in the coming battle, it would not matter if she had time to complete her training as a warrior. It would not matter that she was not a Guardian. The chief and the Guardians would need her to be part of the battle to rid them of the English. ’Twould still be up to the Guardians to figure out how to keep the rest of the English out of the Highlands, but this latest force would be done for.
She tripped over a tree root, letting loose an epithet worthy of a warrior as she fought to keep her feet. Duncan caught her arm, righting her just before she fell.
“Slow down. ’Twill help nothing if you kill yourself tumbling down the ben.”
Scotia pulled her arm out of his grip and slowed her pace just enough to mind where she put her feet. It irritated her that he was right, and that his touch, his nearness, pulled her attention back to their kiss. She had meant to ask him why he kissed her, but she didn’t really want to know. Just as she didn’t want to know why she had reacted as she had, kissing him back when she had intended to bite him and free herself. She did not need answers toeither question because it would never happen again. She would not be distracted from her goal by anyone.
No more kissing, she admonished herself. No lads to distract her, especially not Duncan, who had always been like an annoying older brother to her. Though she had to admit there had been nothing remotely brotherly about that kiss. Heat started to gather low in her stomach again.
Nay, she must focus. She could not think of Duncan that way. ’Twould be of no purpose, for he was clearly as caught by surprise at the intensity of their kiss as she was. Neither of them wanted to see where that path might lead.
He was her teacher, nothing more. He would train her. He would help her convince Nicholas that she was of use in the coming battle.
“Do you truly believe Nicholas and the council will let me go into battle because of thisknowing?” She threw the question at him over her shoulder, but before he could respond a flash ofknowingstopped her cold, and he almost ran into her. Her first thought was that her imagination was busy today, but then she realized this was anotherknowing, and if it was true, their allies needed help. As soon as she’d accepted what sheknewanother flash sped her feet again.
“Scotia?” Duncan called from behind her. “What is it?” But she did not have breath enough to spare to answer him.
“Nicholas?” she yelled as she skidded to a stop in the clearing near the largest of the cookfires. “Rowan, Jeanette! Where are you?”
Rowan stepped out of the dark maw of the main cave, wiping her hands on her skirts. “You bellowed, cousin? Jeanette is tending to the bairn. I’ve sent lads and lasses out to let the other searchers know the bairn was found. They should be back soon ...” She was smiling until she really looked at Scotia, then at Duncan. Rowan turned back to the cave and summoned Jeanette immediately.
Jeanette came out, blinking in the soft light of the late afternoon. “Maisie will be fine, if that is what you are wanting to know,” she said. “You made quick work of finding her, Duncan.”
“’Twas Scotia who found her,” Duncan said, looking around the clearing.
