“You’re a Highland lion,” Katryne announced. She took her brother’s hand and led him to where the crew stored the empty oak casks. Elene gestured to Liam that she would go first. Once the two sisters and their brothers hid, Liam lifted Elene into the air, then released her into the water. He leaned as far forward as he could, trying to lessen the impact. When the barrel didn’t immediately sink into the sea’s depths, he repeated his actions for Johan, then Katryne. He’d ensured the lids were tight enough not to allow in water, but they could each push them free if they needed.
He watched them bob in the current, the distance growing between the three large casks and the birlinn. The waves carried them toward Mainland. Liam prayed they remained afloat long enough for the Isbisters to make it to safety and that they didn’t wind up in a crosscurrent. He trusted Elene would take them to safety once they made it ashore. With nothing more that he could do, Liam turned his attention to the approaching Norse. It was only a matter of minutes before he once more stared at Gunter.
“Highlander, you have what’s mine. It was bad enough when you stole my woman, now you stole my children.”
“They were never yours.” Liam crossed his arms, flexing his chest, as he came to stand with his feet hip-width apart. It was the pose the men in his family were notorious for using. It intimidated most people, but Liam knew it would only prove his resolve. It would take far more for the Norseman to feel threatened.
“You know naught of my past with Elene. She refused me, and now she must live with what that choice brings.”
“I’d guess your ego makes up for what you lack elsewhere. Having it tweaked must hurt as much as being kicked in the bollocks. You’ve doled out an equal dose of humiliation by taking up with her mother. Be done.” Liam gave a dismissive expression, then made it appear as though he would turn his back to Gunter. He never would lest he get a sword through it.
“You risk much speaking this way when we so clearly outnumber you.”
“I know you outnumber us. But I’m not worried. Kill me and my men, and your brother will find himself in more trouble than a few islands can fix. He’s alreadypersona non gratawith King David. Remember, we now govern Orkney because your brother was too poor to pay a dowry and failed to beg funds from your jarls. Kill a man who King David treats like a beloved cousin, and my sovereign will not hesitate to make King Haakon’s life even more miserable. It will be your death that satisfies King David. What then? We’re both dead. Rather wasteful, and you’re still the loser.”
“I’ll take my chances. Your king scares me not a wit.”
“Then you’re a daft man.”
“I will have what is mine, Highlander.”
“I am a Highlander. I’m one connected to every clan north of the Grampian Mountains. My family extends as far as the Hebrides. Even your Norse sailors don’t compare to Hebridean seafarers. You shall have an army at your doorstep if you do aught to ruffle any more hairs on my head. As is, my grandfather shan’t be happy to hear what happened on this journey. You underestimate just how powerful the Earl of Caithness is. My great-uncle is the Earl of Sutherland, who is the brother-by-marriage to the Earl of Ross. I have cousins who are lairds commanding armies of more than ten-score men. Your brother will not think me worth the trouble. Leave, and I shall forget this happened.”
“I’ll leave when I have what is mine,” Gunter insisted as he brandished his sword.
“Come aboard and look for yourself. Though there’s not much that you can’t see. Our boats are the same shape. No hold. What you see is what we have.” Liam backed away before gesturing for Gunter to come aboard. When the Norseman narrowed his eyes but took a step forward, Liam raised a hand. “But only with two of your people.”
“I’ll bring as many as I want.”
“You still speak as though I must obey because your brother is sovereign of these lands. He isn’t. My grandfather’s godson is. Make your choice. Oblige me, and I oblige you. Refuse and you get naught.”
“And if I kill you all, there will be no one to tell the tale of what became of you.”
“Except for an irate set of chieftains who witnessed you burn one of their crofts. Chieftains who share a surname with my grandfather, the earl.”
Gunter made a guttural sound before pointing to two women, who preceded him onto the birlinn. The three Norse warriors swept across the deck, kicking empty barrels until they toppled. They strew the contents of food sacks and cut open seed sacks. But they huffed in frustration when they’d done all the damage they could, and they still found no fugitives. Liam watched passively, but his smug expression antagonized Gunter. The Norse prince struggled to keep control of his temper, once more embarrassed that the Highlander had the upper hand.
Liam held his breath that Gunter didn’t notice the three barrels barely visible in the early morning light. He nearly groaned when Gunter stepped to the far rail and pointed toward the Isbisters.
“What are those?”
“I’d rather my whisky sink than wind up on your boat.”
“You threw your whisky overboard? What will your dear grandfather say about that waste?”
“He’ll say thank you. He wouldn’t wish for you to have shite from him.”
“What a fool,” Gunter scoffed. He shook his head as he sneered but abandoned his search. He jumped back to his longboat. Liam expected him to cross to Alfred’s boat, but Gunter gave the signal for his longboats to back away. “This isn’t done, Highlander.”
“I didn’t think it was,vikingr,” Liam grinned as he used the Old Norse term for the sea-roving pirates. It surprised Liam that Gunter didn’t board the other birlinn. His heart dropped that he’d endangered the Isbister siblings needlessly. He wished he’d sent them to the other birlinn. But he reminded himself that had he not put them over the side, and had Gunter boarded Alfred’s ship, Elene, Katryne, and Johan would be in Gunter’s net. As much as he wished to dash to the opposite rail and search for the barrels, he didn’t. Instead, he waited as the Norsemen sailed between the two birlinns, knocking against the Highlanders’ boats as if to cast one last jab at them.
“Where do you think they’re going?” Alfred asked as the birlinns floated back together.
“I don’t know. I’m certain he doesn’t believe we let them go. My guess is back to Mainland, but further along the southern coast. I fear he intends to waylay us again. If we sail back north and go around the opposite tip, we could stop in Snusgar for water before we cross to Scotland. I don’t want to add the extra distance on either side of the island, but we have little chance of avoiding him otherwise. I want to get back to Dunbeath as fast as we can. In the meantime, we have to get them before they freeze.”
Elene jostled the sides of the barrel as the waves crested, then dropped into troughs. Fortunately, the water was calm. She didn’t think they would survive if the swells were any larger. Water seeped into the barrel, but it was a slow. She didn’t fear sinking, but she was wet and shivering. She could only imagine how Johan and Katryne fared. She’d ceased hearing Liam’s baritone voice only moments after going over the side. She hadn’t realized how comforting the sound was until it vanished. Where she’d felt confident only moments ago that he would rescue them, fear licked at her, tightening her belly, and making her heart race.
“Johan?” Elene called, unsure whether her voice would carry.
