Page 104 of Desire of a Highlander

“The musket ball missed the bone,” Faye said after a quick examination.

“That’s fortunate,” Elodie said.

Fortunate. How strange her life had become that she would use that word to calmly describe a gunshot wound. She tore strips of clean linen while Faye worked. The young man gritted his teeth, refusing to cry out.

“You’re doing well,” Elodie told him.

More shouting. Footsteps approaching. A second casualty arrived. Then a third. And Elodie knew with a cold certainty settling in her chest that it was only just beginning.

RONAN URGED ANGUS ACROSS the uneven ground, Bran and Skye streaking ahead of him, white smoke drifting between the trees from discharged muskets. The acrid scent of powder hung heavy in the air.

“Left flank!” someone shouted.

He wheeled Angus, but by the time he reached the threatened position, the Murdoch riders had already melted back into the woodland. One of his men lay clutching a bleeding arm.

“They’re gone,” Eamon growled, striding up beside him. “They keep disappearing like damned ghosts! Why willnae they just stand and fight?”

Ronan scanned the trees. Nothing. Then a musket cracked somewhere behind them. He turned Angus again. “With me!”

He galloped across the front of the camp. But again, he was too late. The raiders had struck another isolated group of defenders before disappearing into cover.

“They’re bleeding us dry,” Eamon said grimly.

Ronan growled under his breath. They were doing exactly what Ronan himself would have done. Testing. Probing. Looking for the moment when fear or exhaustion made the defenders break.

Then suddenly a horn sounded from the ridge overlooking the camp. Ronan turned in that direction to see Henry Murdoch sitting astride a magnificent bay horse, richly dressed as usual. Beside him sat Lady Alana, her dark riding cloak stirring in the breeze. They looked absurdly calm, like spectators watching a show.

Henry raised a hand. “Ronan Campbell!” he bellowed in a voice that carried across the valley. “Yer wee army of farmers fight well!”

Ronan guided Angus forward. “Why dinna ye commit yer men and we’ll see how well they can really fight!”

Henry laughed. “Where would be the honor in that? I’ve no wish to harm innocents. Look behind ye. Do ye really want to put them at risk?”

Ronan resisted the urge to look around. He already knew what lay behind him. The wagons. The children and old folk.

Henry swept an arm towards the bridge. “And look there.” He pointed to where Bryce’s banners flew on the opposite bank. The earl’s army watched, motionless.

“The Earl of Newborough has abandoned ye!” Henry called, spreading his arms wide to address all the people of the Steading. “He has refused ye sanctuary. He doesnae care whether ye live or die! So why are ye fighting us? Yer real enemy lies over that bridge!”

A murmur ran through some of Ronan’s followers. Henry’s smile widened. “We are not yer enemy.” He pointed towards the bridge. “Bryce Campbell is! He would see all of us destroyed. So join me! Stand with me! Together we will take Bryce Campbell’s lands and ye will finally be safe!”

Henry lowered his arm and spoke directly to Ronan this time. “Ye know I’m right.”

Ronan felt every eye upon him. He looked from Henry Murdoch to Bryce’s banners then back again. But when he spoke, his voice was calm.

“Ye still dinna understand, do ye?” he shouted. “I’ve no interest in yer ambitions. Ye speak of alliance but what ye truly want is obedience. Ye want the Steading so ye can turn it into a military camp. Ye want my people so they will fight yer war for ye.” Ronan shook his head. “And I say no to all of it! I willnae give ye the Steading. I willnae hand over the people who’ve trusted me and make them pawns in another man’s revenge.”

Ronan glanced towards Bryce then back at Henry Murdoch. “And I’ll not betray my family for my own petty revenge either!” he bellowed.

That produced a bark of laughter. “Yer family?” Henry gestured towards Bryce’s army. “The brother who hates ye? That’s the family ye would defend?”

Ronan’s jaw tightened. “My quarrel with my brother is mine. It belongs to no one else.”

Henry’s patience finally snapped and his expression turned cold. “So be it. If ye willnae give me the location of the Steading willingly, there are other ways to find it. He pointed at the ring of wagons. “When yer people are my prisoners, they’ll tell me where it is. When my warriors have swept yers away, we’ll march across that bridge and I will have my vengeance on the cursed Earl of Newborough.”

Ronan felt a cold smile pulling at the corners of his mouth. “Then ye’ll have to get through me first.”

Henry smiled equally coldly. “Oh, I intend to.” He drew his sword and held it over his head. “Forward!”