Page 56 of Awoken
She had to help as well.
Inhaling deeply, Leanna positioned herself side-on to the fracas and lifted her longbow. She drew it taut and raised the arrow so that it was in line with her eye. It was difficult to get a clear shot, for both sides were engaged now, yet she bided her time.
Breathe.
She exhaled slowly, before drawing in another breath. Then, she held it and awaited her chance.
A heartbeat later, it presented itself.
One of the MacKinnon warriors staggered back, after deflecting a blow from Craeg. For just an instant, Leanna had a clear line of sight.
She loosed her arrow.
Thud. It embedded at the base of the warrior’s neck. He choked, his free hand clutching at the fletched arrow.
Craeg glanced her way, his gaze widening when he saw who had fired upon his opponent. Then he inclined his head in a gesture of silent thanks before wheeling around to face his next attacker.
Leanna notched another arrow and raised her bow once more. After firing upon the first of the MacKinnon warriors, a strange calm had settled over her. Before loosing that arrow, she’d been so scared her hands had shaken. Yet they were steady now, and her gaze narrowed as she sought out another of The Dunan Guard to bring down.
A tall man clad in leather with the MacKinnon sash proudly displayed across his chest burst through the fighting. He bore a massive claidheamh-mor—a weapon that had to be wielded two-handed, one that few women would be strong enough to use.
However, a woman wielding a longbow could be just as lethal.
A tight smile curved Leanna’s mouth as she sighted her next target.
Perhaps the longbow wasn’t such a useless skill after all.
26
On the Run
SWEAT SLID DOWN Leanna’s back, trickling between her shoulder blades. Ignoring the ache in her upper arms and shoulders, she notched yet another arrow and sighted her next target.
However, as she did so, she realized that the fighting was drawing nearer. The outlaws were doing a valiant job of defending the village, yet inch by inch, MacKinnon’s men were tightening the noose.
Ross fought at Craeg’s shoulder, while a few yards away, Gunn swung a heavy axe at his assailants. All three men were sweat-soaked and blood-splattered, yet they didn’t let down their guard, not for an instant.
It mattered not though—for eventually they were forced back.
Not shifting her gaze from the fracas, Leanna drew away a few yards. Her quiver was almost empty. Soon, she would have to go in search of more arrows.
Hopelessness rose up within her—a chill, sickly feeling. It punctured the calm that had enabled her to bring down a handful of MacKinnon’s men.
She’d helped slow the tide, but she couldn’t stem it completely. There were just too many of them.
And then, as she notched her last arrow, she saw Craeg stagger.
An arrow had just hit his left flank.
The outlaw swore savagely and swung his blade at the warrior he’d just engaged. The pain of the arrow hit seemed to galvanize him, for he brought the man down an instant later with a savage cut to his groin.
Clutching the wound to his left side, where the arrow now protruded, Craeg turned to Ross.
“Run, Campbell,” he rasped. “I’ll focus on taking what’s left of my people to safety … but ye need to get Lady Leanna away from here.”
Ross, who’d just bested a pike-wielding warrior, turned to him. His gaze widened when he saw Craeg was wounded. “Ye need help,” he replied.
“And I’ll get it,” Craeg countered, before he favored Ross with a savage grin. “Thank ye both for coming to our aid. Now get out of here before ye end up skewered on a claidheamh-mor.” The outlaw leader glanced Leanna’s way then, just as she loosed her last arrow.
