Master of the Highlands

“Your Donald isn ’t coming, I felled the crabbit old bull but a moment ago,” he laughed. Lauchlan loped effortlessly behind her, enjoying the chase as if it were something to whet the appetite, as a wolf would toy with a doe. “The redcoats are come calling and here he is out for a wee stroll in the woods. The fool was looking about not minding me, and he dropped, easy as a wink.”



Lily sprinted for the tree line. If he thought Donald had been alone, Robert was out there somewhere. If they had heard the MacKintosh coming, maybe Robert had been able to ride away. She just hoped he was not too injured to make it safely back to the keep.



She could hear Lauchlan panting behind her, and it wasn’t exertion that she heard so much as the sound of lust. A chill shivered up Lily’s spine. It would be impossible to outrun his long, easy gait with speed alone. If she used her smaller size to her advantage, she had a chance of losing him in a dash through the dense brambles and scrub that carpeted the Lochaber woods. She believed she could escape him, she just needed to keep her wits about her. Darting between the saplings that grew along the forest ’s edge, she lunged for a spindly branch and snatched it in her hand, its young fibrous bark slicing through her palm as it dragged across her skin, leaving a sticky track of sap in its wake. She let go and heard a satisfyingly loud crack as the branch smacked Lauchlan across the bridge of his nose.



“Bloody hell, you fremmit whore, ” he raged. “You ’ll be sorry. Aye, sorry you ’ll be to have vexed a MacKintosh. ” He growled and Lily felt his hand swipe at her sleeve. “I’d thought to take you soft, but now I ’ve a new mind of it. ” He bobbed through the trees, arms flailing, trying to grab hold of Lily.



“Get here, galla ìleach! ” Lily felt the tug at her skirt and heard the fabric tear. She managed to pull away from Lauchlan’s grip but it had thrown her off balance, and she was sent tumbling onto the damp mulch of the forest floor.



“I generally appreciate when the lassies give me a wee chase ” Lauchlan was astride her in an instant “but this — — is over much. Och, a hellcat you are.” He struggled to flip her onto her back. “Face me. Or is it you prefer it like a dog?”



The rich smell of decayed leaves filled her senses as she struggled to stay on her belly, legs clenched tight, digging through the loamy soil feeling for something, anything to help her. Her hands found a rotted log and she grabbed hold, trying to pull and wriggle her way out from under him, but it crumbled into sodden dust.



Lauchlan abandoned his attempts to turn Lily and began to tear at her skirts instead. His grunts became soft laughter as the crisp sound of ripping fabric resounded through the trees. A blast of cool air hit Lily’s legs. She heard the jingle of Lauchlan’s buckle as he tossed aside his sword and began to fumble with his sporran and kilt, and she cried out, finally breaking, a rush of hot tears spilling out, muddying the filth on her face.



She perceived a faint growling. It wasn’t until she felt Lauchlan pause that she realized the sound didn ’t emanate from him. His hands, once fumbling, bruising, trying to part her legs, were suddenly still. “Dé an diabhal a ”… , he muttered.



Lily wrenched her head up in time to glimpse a blur of fur leaping over her head, aimed straight for Lauchlan ’s throat.



“You bloody cur! ” he shouted, and rolled off her back, fumbling for the sgian dubh tucked in his sock while his other arm guarded his neck.



Lily scuttled away on her knees and her heart soared at the sight of Finn worrying the front of Lauchlan ’s shirt, snapping desperately for a taste of flesh. He cuffed the dog and Finn let out a brief whimper before attacking with renewed ferocity.



The man stood at his full height now, kicking at the dog.



“Don’t rusk at me, you accursed rat. ” Lauchlan snatched at the scruff of Finn’s neck, his other hand closing around the dagger at his calf. Lily swayed as terror erupted in her anew, quickening her breath and weakening her legs. She looked around desperately for anything to stop him.



His arm was poised now over the dog’s neck, mouth quirke d into a sinister half grin, his dagger glinting in the forest’s dappled sunlight. And poor Finn fought so bravely. He had no idea what was about to happen, that his efforts were to be in vain.



Lily stepped toward him and stumbled. She glanced down and there she saw it, a large rock in her path, inexplicably clean and perfectly formed amidst the debris on the forest floor. She bent and took its smooth, cool weight in her hand.



Lily caressed the stone. It fit snugly, reassuringly in her palm. She looked from Finn to Lauchlan, and hatred of this man who would torture innocents out of spite roiled in her. A violent sneer distorted his features and a red stain blossomed on his shirt, now wet and sticking to his side. Good, then, she thought, Finn had drawn blood.



She stared at Lauchlan for a moment more. Then, just as he was stabbing down, she wound back and threw with all her strength. The rock struck Lauchlan on the forearm with enough force to make his hand falter. The knife slipped from his grasp at the last moment, grazing Finn’s shoulder rather than delivering a killing blow.



The dog fell onto his side, panting heavily, his long gray legs floundering, at once trying to rise, then trying to reach his wound with his tongue. “Good boy, Finn, ” Lily soothed, the sight of his struggle unbearable, “it’s okay, boy.” Lauchlan’s soft laughter echoed through the trees once again. “You’re a witch, you are, Lily. Now I ken what the Cameron saw in you. You ’d best be worth the trouble.”



A rock sailed inexplicably from the trees, striking the man on his leg. “Christ! What the bloody hell now?” He gaped as Robert emerged, limping, from the trees. “Och, woman, do you and your friends have a mind to fash me to death?”



“Let her be!” Robert announced heroically.



“What’s next, have you a wee badger army too, with wee pistols what shoot scree instead of bullets?” Lauchlan turned to Robert, “Lad, you speak like you fancy yourself smart as Solomon. You ’ve too many brains in your head. But I’ll tend to that, aye, when I knock them all back out for you. ”



The MacKintosh spat. “And when I’m done”—he snatched a fistful of Lily’s blonde curls “I ’— ll rid myself of this besom. And what a waste it will be. ” He dug his face in her hair, nosing it with an exaggerated sniff.



“Don’t I have a say in this? ” Lily swung her elbow up and back, smashing Lauchlan ’s beaklike nose with a wet crunch. At once blood flowed down his lips and chin, his nose set at a sickeningly skewed angle.



Lauchlan dragged his sleeve across his face, leaving one side a crusted mask of reddish brown. “You ’re dead, woman, ” he said in a barely comprehendible whisper.



“Not yet. ” Robert’s voice rang clearly, and Lily felt a surge of pride. She was certain there was a desk out there where Robbie would have rather been seated, yet here he was instead, by her side, death a very real possibility for both of them.



Robert leaned down and in a single movement, grabbed Lauchlan’s sgian dubh from the leaves and hurled it toward her. The small dagger landed blade first in Lily’s hand and she gasped from the shock of cold metal slicing through the flesh of her palm. She tossed the weapon up gently to catch it handle first and swung blindly back, hacking the taut muscle of Lauchlan’s bicep. Unlike soft flesh, the tissue didn ’t yield easily, and Lily had to pull the blade out from where it had cleaved him.



Lauchlan roared and struck Lily with his good arm, smashing the side of her head. A shrill ringing filled her skull and she stumbled, choking down bile as her system began to retch from the shock. She caught herself, digging one hand into the dank leaves of the forest floor to keep from falling on her stomach.



Lily looked up. The MacKintosh stood above her, legs astride, predatory want darkening his eyes. He had retrieved his sword from the leaves and held it aloft, hand twitching with fury. Lily’s palm was damp and hot where she still clutched the leather handle of the dagger. As Lauchlan slowly reached his bloodied arm over her, Lily summoned a desperate strength into her trembling legs and sprang up to meet him, raking the knife along the inside of his thigh as she rose.



The only sound he made was a clipped grunt, and the near silence terrified Lily more than any of his bellowing had. Eyes burning into her and a vicious hunger snarling the edges of his mouth, Lauchlan threw his sword, driving it into the ground blade first. He grabbed Lily’s hand and pinned her to his leg, his coarse tartan chafing her face where she crouched awkwardly in front of him. The sour odor of mildew assailed her.



His hand was slick with his own blood, which oozed from between his clenched fingers onto Lily, drizzling down her arm. His grip tightened suddenly, the bones in her hand sounding a sickening crunch as he secured her tightly to him. I n that instant, Lauchlan rammed his knee in her abdomen with violence enough to tear her hand from his. Lily slammed into the dirt bottom first, and at once began frantically scrambling away from Lauchlan, her throat rasping and burning with the need to get air into her lungs. The man quietly stalked her, hands flexing, a grim smile betraying his intent. Unable to tear her eyes from Lauchlan, she heard Robert crawling between the trees, mumbling hysterical curses as he rifled his hands through the leaves.



Robert gasped and rose shakily to his feet. All of the movement had aggravated his gunshot wound, dislodging the dressing, and now a black and gruesome maw stared out through a tear in his shirt, shimmering crimson from the fresh blood that pulsed unchecked down his chest. He had retrieved the sgian dubh from the forest floor and now stood, gripping the weapon, and looked at Lily. A tranquil resolve softened his gaze, courage stilling his features.



He walked with painful deliberation toward the MacKintosh, whose eyes were still fixed only on Lily.



Robert’s body convulsed and he lunged forward, stabbing Lauchlan’s neck before the MacKintosh knew to look behind him.



“Robbie, no! ” Lily cried, as Robert crumpled to the ground. Lauchlan stumbled backward, disappearing into the trees, clawing for the hilt of the knife where Robert had planted it deep into the meat between shoulder and neck.