Chapter Four

 

 

Colin and six of his men slipped out Bearach Castle's postern gate and down to a couple of two-oared boats at the shore, on the back side of the castle. Strong wind from the west blasted them as they boarded the rocking boats.

He had to rescue Anna's blind sister before the battle broke out and before the impending gale struck. He glanced up. The clouds were as dark as gloaming, predicting a fearsome storm.

What clawed at his soul like great talons was that Lady Kristina was probably terrified, and not being able to see would make that fear a hundred times worse.

"We'll row around behind that wee island. They won't see us approaching the shore of the mainland around the bend behind those bushes." Colin pointed. It would take longer, but it would allow them to slip in unseen. "The approaching MacKenzies on their galleys will keep their attention."

Warton, looking rough and ready for battle, shoved the boats from the shore and into the water of Loch Moidart, then leapt aboard one of them. Warton was the son of his father's sword-bearer or war leader. They had grown up together and he would one day serve in the same position for Colin.

A man on each boat rowed, propelling the wherries through the turbulent water, which was rapidly rising from the tide and the storm surge. They traveled around the small, bush-covered island.

Soon they arrived at the mainland shore, around the bend from the battle. They quietly alighted, their weapons and targes in hand. He hoped that the MacCromars would be so engaged in the battle they wouldn't notice Colin and his men. They ran through the bushes, then crouched behind gorse and peered out.

"She is there." Colin pointed. On horseback, one of Blackburn's men held her, a dirk to her throat. He was a large, burly man with bright-red hair and a matching bushy beard. "I'll need two of you to circle around behind her captor, then each of you grab an arm. He looks strong. Don't underestimate him. At all costs, make sure he doesn't cut the lady with that knife. When you have his arms pinioned, I'll take Lady Kristina from him." Colin placed his targe on the ground, for he wouldn't need it, and shoved his sword into the scabbard. "The rest of you, fight off the other men and serve as reinforcements."

"Aye." Warton put his weapons away. "I'll grab the bastard's knife hand. Rusty, you grab his left arm."

"Aye."

These two were just as strong and braw as Blackburn's man. Colin had much confidence in them. They crept around through the bushes behind the lady's captor. When Colin saw them slipping closer to the whoreson, he proceeded in that direction.

Rusty and Warton leapt onto the man, grabbing his arms before he knew what was going on. Once the knife was well away from Kristina's throat, Colin ran forward and caught her as she slid from the man's lap. The horse danced beneath them, almost stamping on Colin's foot.

He leapt out of the way.

Lady Kristina screamed and struggled within his arms. Colin threw her over his shoulder and ran with her, away from the battle. He glanced back to see Warton and Rusty dragging the ginger-haired man from his horse. The other Camerons hung back, defending Warton and Rusty from enemies.

"Unhand me!" The woman over his shoulder kicked and elbowed him.

Once they were behind the bushes, Colin pulled her from his shoulder and held her in his arms. "I'm sorry to treat you like a sack of oats, Lady Kristina, but I'm here to help you. I'm Colin Cameron. I'm to take you to your sister."

She gasped and stilled. "What? Anna? Where is she?"

"Inside the castle."

Tears sparkled in her blue eyes. "Oh, thank God she didn't come out."

"The chief wouldn't allow it." Colin peered out from between the bushes and saw that the large force of MacKenzies had fully joined in the battle, fighting on Neacal's side. The MacKenzie chief's younger brother was Neacal's brother-in-law. Thank the saints the MacDonalds of Moidart were no longer outnumbered.

Warton and Rusty approached, slipping quickly through the bushes with their weapons and targes.

"Damnation," Warton growled. "They've discovered our boats."

Colin followed his gaze to see that three enemies waited on the shore where they'd disembarked. "Hell." Likely they had been patrolling the area. The bastards had already shoved one of the boats out into the rough water. They couldn't go back the way they'd come.

"Sir, you could keep her hidden here while we take care of them," Warton said.

Even if his men did defeat these enemies, the water was becoming extremely choppy because of the storm. It was too great a risk for Kristina.

"Nay, leave them." Colin glanced up at the ever darkening sky. "The storm is coming in quickly. The water is too dangerous now. Retrieve the rest of our men. I'll need all of you to help protect her. Rusty will stay with me."

"Aye." Warton trotted off to get the other men.

"The battle is raging," Rusty said, looking between the gorse limbs toward the sandbar causeway linking the castle to the mainland.

"Aye." Colin peered out, seeing that more and more warriors from both sides were joining the fray. He had no quick and easy way to get the lass back inside the castle and out of harm's way.

"Can you untie my hands and feet?" Kristina asked.

"Of course." He'd been too focused on keeping her safe to think about her being bound. He placed her on the ground and, using his dirk, carefully cut the thin ropes. "Are you hurt?"

"Nay. I thank you." She rubbed her reddish, chafed wrists.

"'Tis too dangerous for us to take you to the castle at the moment." But where could he take her? He knew of only one place.

Warton and the rest of his men crept quietly through the bushes and joined them. Colin was glad to see none of them were injured. Thankfully, the enemies near the shore hadn't spotted them yet.

"Come." Colin lifted Kristina into his arms again and slipped into the wood.

"Where are we going?" Warton asked quietly.

"I know a decent hiding place. Rusty, you and Patrick make sure no one follows us."

"Aye."

As they crept across the pine needles and the spongy forest floor, Colin glanced down at Kristina. 'Twas true she had a wide, puckered pink scar on her left cheek, but she was beautiful in spite of it. Or maybe because of it, for it gave her face character. It showed she had lived through a hellish experience and grown stronger because of it.

"Are you sure you're all right, Lady Kristina?"

Her unseeing blue eyes shifted toward his voice but remained unfocused. "Aye, I merely have some bruises and scrapes."

Unable to imagine what she'd endured, he admired her strength and fortitude. "You must have been terrified these last few days."

She nodded, her brow furrowed. "It has been an ordeal."

"And not being able to see must have made it far harder on you."

"Aye." She pulled her cowl over her head, hiding her face more. Mayhap he shouldn't have mentioned her blindness. Did it make her uncomfortable? Surely, she would expect that Anna had told him of her condition.

"You can relax now. We'll protect you with our lives." Colin strode faster amid the pine trees, increasing the distance between Blackburn's men and her.

"I thank you."

All Kristina could do at the moment was hold on and listen to the sounds of battle growing fainter behind them as this strong warrior carried her through what smelled like a pine forest. It was a cool, dank place that was somewhat sheltered from the wind. The men's footsteps on the forest floor were quiet thumps. She heard a few men moving along behind them and one in front.

They kept their voices low as they communicated in a West Highland dialect of Gaelic. Being from the east, she found Colin's voice and accent unusual and appealing. His deep, confident voice brushed over her senses like rich velvet. She wished more than anything she could look into his eyes. What color were they? Would she see compassion there, or pity? His voice sounded kind and concerned.

His arms, holding her securely, felt iron-hard and strong. When she turned her face toward him, his pleasant, masculine scent took over, far more appealing than the scent of pine needles. He smelled of some sort of spicy masculine soap.

She held on tightly around his neck, helping as much as she could. She hated appearing a helpless female.

"Where are we going?" she asked.

"To a good hiding place," Colin said quietly.

She knew that, but she wanted to know where, specifically.

He started climbing a hill or mountain. His breathing increased and his heart beat faster and harder against her, but his pace did not slow. The ride for her was much bumpier but she didn't mind. She thanked God for her rescuer.

Though mayhap 'twas sacrilege, she hoped Blackburn was killed in battle for what he'd done to her and Anna. He was the vilest and most vicious man she had ever encountered, and Holme wasn't much better.

After a few minutes of climbing farther and farther up what must have been a steep mountain, Colin said, "Here we are." He slowed and his breathing eased. 'Twas clear to her the ground was flat now.

She sniffed, drawing dank, musty air into her lungs.

They were no longer outside, for the men's voices echoed and the wind was blocked.

"Where are we?" she asked.

"In a cave," Colin said.

"Is it dark? How large is it?"

"Aye, 'tis very dim in here. This part of the cave is about twenty by thirty feet. It has a low ceiling."

She was glad he had described it for her. As children, she and Anna had played in a cave while visiting their grandmother, near the east coast. She'd always had a fondness for caves.

"Can you stand?" Colin asked.

"Aye."

He lowered her feet to the uneven cave floor and, still holding her hand, steadied her.

Her sore, stiff legs ached from all the horseback riding. Certainly, reclining in Colin's arms had been more comfortable, but her arms were tired from holding on around his neck so tightly. Besides, she was certain he had to be exhausted from carrying her.

Through her leather boots, she felt the hard-packed dirt floor beneath her feet, along with a few pebbles.

"Will you be all right standing here alone for a few minutes?" he asked.

"Of course." Though she didn't want to, she released his warm, strong hand. She still missed her cane, but she was starting to grow used to not having it. Once she arrived at the castle, 'haps Anna could convince one of the craftsmen to carve a long, lightweight cane for her so she could move about on her own.

Colin talked quietly with his men near the cave's entrance. She caught some of their words because her hearing had grown keener since she'd lost her sight. He told one man where to position all the other men for guarding the cave. Was he a chief? If not, how did he have a small army at his command?

"Aye, sir." Footsteps hastened from the cave and outside.

All grew quiet, but she still sensed Colin nearby. Was he staring at her? She pulled the cowl more firmly over her head to hide the scar on the side of her face. Of course, he had already seen it, but she didn't want him studying every detail.

His firm and confident footsteps approached. "All is well now, Lady Kristina. My men are guarding the entrance to the cave and the perimeter."

"I thank you for protecting me. Are you a laird?"

"My father is chief of Clan Cameron."

"Are you his heir?"

"Indeed."

"Oh." Saints, he was an important man then. What was he doing risking life and limb to rescue her? Was he that selfless or did he simply love action? "What should I call you?"

"Colin." The smile came through in his tone, making her wish she could see him. Was he a handsome man? Imagining what he might look like, she felt her face heat. What difference did it make? She was the last person to judge others on looks. To her, his kindness was far more attractive than the bonniest masculine face she'd ever seen.

"Colin," she repeated. "Please call me Kristina."

"'Twould be my pleasure."

Had she only imagined the sensuality in his deep, rumbling tone when he'd said those words? Her face felt warmer than it should. Admittedly, she knew little about men and she'd scarcely had any interaction with decent, honorable men her since her injuries. Prior to that, she'd been so young she'd only talked to a few.

"Can you tell me… is Anna safe?" she asked.

"Aye, she's inside Bearach Castle, and the walls are heavily guarded."

"Thank the saints. I always worry over her, even though she is the older sister."

"Why do you two not stay together?"

"She chose to leave in order to draw Blackburn away. She didn't think he would bother with me. I've been staying with our aunt and uncle in Stirling. If Anna had stayed with me, Blackburn could've easily guessed where she was."

"I see. Well, you're both incredibly brave ladies."

Though the admiring tone of his voice made Kristina's heart swell with gratitude, she shrugged modestly. "I don't know about that. We're simply trying to survive."

"You've had a difficult time of it."

Was he referring to her scarred face? 'Twas her main insecurity for, even more than her blindness, it made her unattractive and undesirable.

The grit beneath Colin's boots crunched as he took a step closer. "Did Blackburn harm you in any way?"

Why was he asking again? Did he not believe what she'd said before? "Not this time," she said. "I'm sore from the days of riding, and I have a few scrapes and bruises, but no serious injuries."

"Neither he nor his men took advantage?"

She lowered her burning face. "Red Holme tried to." Her stomach knotted as she recalled the night the bastard had crawled into her tent. "But Blackburn set Ralston to guard me." Renewed panic spiked her heart rate. "Good heavens, I hope Ralston doesn't get injured or killed in the battle." He'd been so kind to her when all the others had been nasty. Tears pricked her eyes.

"You're close to this Ralston, then?" Colin's voice held a slight edge. "Is he a good man?"

"I think so, better than the rest, anyway. He told me I reminded him of his sister." She gave a sad smile. "No one has ever told me that before. I felt safer when he was near. He and Holme got into a fight while he was defending me."

"Is Holme the man who was holding a knife to your throat out there?"

"Aye, he's Blackburn's war leader and second-in-command. A madman. Aside from him, no man wants…" Remembering she was talking to a stranger, she pressed her lips together and dropped her chin. Even though it should be obvious why no man wanted to touch her—nor, thankfully, take advantage—at times she could not bring herself to say the words, especially to someone she'd just met. But Colin didn't seem a stranger anymore. How could she have grown used to him so quickly?

"What?" Colin stepped closer.

She lifted her chin, forcing herself to be confident. "Most men keep their distance. Fortunately, one glance at my face quickly douses the flame of their lusts," she said firmly. Why be afraid to state the obvious truth?

"'Tis ridiculous," he muttered.

She pulled back her cowl a bit. "In case you didn't notice, I have a scar on my face." 'Haps it was darker outside than she'd realized.

"So? You're still an incredibly beautiful lady," he said in a husky, irritable tone.

Her breath halted. Could he be serious? No man had complimented her looks since she'd acquired the scar. Though she'd never seen it herself, every day she felt how jagged and deep it was. Unexpected tears burned her eyes, but she blinked against them, turning away from him.

"You're in need of spectacles, then?" she asked.

He gave a brief laugh. "Nay. My vision is perfect."

"'Tis most surely pitch-black in this cave, as well as outside," she said dryly.

"Nay."

She frowned, trying to figure him out. She did not like to be teased and toyed with. "What do you hope to gain by lying to me?"

"I'm not lying." His voice was almost a growl.

Running footsteps entered the cave and one of his men spoke, breathing hard. "Here is some food I took from the enemy's saddlebags while they were busy fighting. I thought the lady might be hungry."

"'Twas very brave and canny of you, Ethan," Colin said. "I'm certain she must be."

In truth, she was famished. Blackburn had only allowed her a small piece of bread that morn. When Ralston had tried to slip her more, he'd been reprimanded.

"Please bring some fresh water for her if you can find a spring or a clean stream flowing down from the mountain."

When Ethan's footsteps retreated, Colin gently took her hand in his warm one. Tingles spread from his touch. "Here's a bannock." His voice was so deep and comforting, she shivered. He placed an oatcake into her hand.

"Are you certain 'tis not poisoned?"

"I'll try a bite of this one." He sniffed loudly, then she heard his teeth clicking together as he chewed. "Seems fine to me. They had the food for their own use, so likely 'tis safe."

She smelled the oatcake as well and detected no odd odors about it, although it was turning stale. Once she'd eaten that, Colin handed her another bannock and a piece of dried venison. Though the meat was tough, the flavor was wonderfully smoky and salty.

"We can't build a fire to cook, even if we did hunt some wild game," he said. "The enemies would see the smoke and find us. Besides, I should be able to get you back to the castle soon, once the skirmish is over."

"I pray your allies are the victors. Will Blackburn's men be able to track us?"

"Nay, my men know how to cover our tracks and create a false trail that will lead them on a merry chase."

"That is clever." Relief allowed her muscles to relax as she took another bite of the dried meat.

"How much did Blackburn allow you to eat on the journey here?"

"At first he was generous, but as we ventured farther into the Highlands, the taverns were harder to find. Then supplies ran low, and he allowed me less and less."

Colin growled a Gaelic curse. "I hope Neacal runs him through."

"As do I." She knew from listening to Blackburn and his men that Neacal was the MacDonald chief who held the castle where Anna had taken refuge. He was the main one Blackburn wished to kill. "Is he a strong warrior?"

"Aye, Neacal is one of the best. He can take care of himself. He's my foster brother and good friend." Colin spoke with confidence and warmth. She could easily tell the two men were close.

"Will he continue to protect my sister?"

"Of course. The lady has enchanted him."

"She has?" Saints! Did he mean the MacDonald chief was smitten with Anna?

Colin chuckled, but she did not know what was funny.

"In what way?" Kristina had to find out more.

"As I'm sure you ken, Anna has a remarkable singing voice."

"Aye." Kristina smiled, remembering her perfect intonation. "I wish I could hear her sing now." She wanted to ask more about Anna's association with the MacDonald chief, but felt a bit shy and out of her element. Maybe they were in love and that was why the chief was willing to go to war for her. Good heavens, what if they were lovers? She would much rather ask her sister about it. She did not feel comfortable talking to Colin about such intimacies.