“Fucking hell,” Greer cursed.
The men all wore plaid. Greer recognized the pattern as the one she’d seen far too many times in her life. Men on foot and on horseback charged toward them. She and Thor turned their horses, ready to retreat farther into the woods, but men appeared to their left and right.
“They have a full war band. There must be at least two score,” Thor estimated. If they tried to outrun the Gunns, they would still likely become captives. But he feared racing through the forest was more likely to injure Greer than protect her. He didn’t doubt they would beat him, but he prayed surrendering would keep him alive. Fleeing would only embolden them after angering them further. “We dinna have a choice.”
“I ken. I’ll go along with what they want for now. I ken ye willna let them do aught to me or take me anywhere without ye. But I dinna want to make it worse. Ye must accept how they treat me, Thor. Ye canna fight that many of them.”
“If a mon touches ye, naught will keep me from ye. I’ll die protecting ye.”
“And where will that leave me? Completely at their mercy for the rest of ma life. We accept what we have for now, kenning that it’s a short sacrifice for a life together.”
“I canna accept ye making that sacrifice again.”
“Ye dinna own me, Thor. Ye can do what ye can to protect us, and I will do the same. It’s ma decision to make.”
“We canna argue now, but we shall have words aboot this later. I’m nae in agreement.”
“I didna think ye would be.” Greer squeezed her thighs and straightened her back. She wouldn’t appear before her former clan as anything less than confident and proud. Her shoulders went back, and her chin notched up. She’d spent a lifetime pretending, so this was a role for which she was prepared. She guided her horse forward, forcing men who’d once intimidated her to move aside. She cared not if her horse trod on their feet. They shouldn’t have been in the way.
As Thor and Greer joined Dominic, the sunlight nearly blinded them momentarily. But once their eyes adjusted from the forest’s dimness, they spied Keenan. The man barely remained atop his horse. The Gunns had beaten him, leaving him with a black eye, a bloodied nose, and a gash to his sword arm. The arm wound still bled, red blossoming along his sleeve to his wrist, but it didn’t appear serious enough that he might lose it. He appeared dazed, and Thor wondered how many punches or kicks he took to his head. Thor’s gaze moved to the other assembled men, recognizing most of the Gunns from various raids and battles. But his heart raced when he recognized MacDonnell and MacDonald plaids in the midst. Things became exponentially more complicated with Laird Wallace MacDonnell of Loch Broom sitting beside Matthew Gunn. Thor wished to pummel the smugness from Matthew’s face. He’d leave it unrecognizable.
“Sinclair, yer friend isnae so bonnie anymore.” Matthew jerked his head in Keenan’s direction. Thor’d noticed they’d bound Keenan’s wrists, but they hadn’t taken the warrior’s sword. Fools. Keenan’s eyes met Thor’s, and he winked. He might not look well, but even with his hands restrained, he could still reach and swing his double-handed broadsword. Blacksmiths forged the claymores for warriors to hold it with both hands, but many warriors possessed the strength to wield it with one hand. It was a requirement for Sinclairs.
“Ye’re too far from home. Ye ken ye’re on Sinclair land.” Thor’s weapon continued to rest on his thighs. He leaned forward as though he sat at ease in the saddle, but it fooled no one. Everyone knew he would be ready to wage war the moment the air changed.
“So?”
“Ye ken ye’re trespassing. Whether we report ye to King David or King Edward, it’s uncontestable that ye have crossed into our territory. Ye canna say this is a disagreement aboot borders.” Thor turned his attention to Wallace. “Ye have ridden a long way on a fool’s errand. Ye have nay bride to claim, and ye’ve laid yer head on the wrong clan’s bed.”
“There are only three of ye, whelp.” Wallace’s white, bushy beard and missing or chipped teeth might intimidate some on the battlefield, but to Thor, it spoke of a man who was growing old and had already lost too many fights.
“Here, aye. In ma family to avenge me? Hardly. Ye ken ma family is all the Highlands except ye. Uncle Tristan kens we’re on our way. If we dinna show up, he will let Auntie Mairghread decide what to do with yer carcasses after she slays ye. Dinna tell ma cousins, but I’m her favorite.” Thor winked. He’d realized they were closer to the end of the forest than he’d suspected, which meant they were almost to the border. If Keenan or Dominic could break away, they could find Sinclair and Mackay patrols within twenty minutes.
“Enough,” Wallace snapped. His gaze bore into Greer’s. “I willna tolerate this any longer. Ye are mine. I’ve paid the bride price and accepted the dowry. The betrothal documents are signed, so ye belong to me. I dinna give a shite where ye left yer maidenhead. I prefer ye broken in, and I ken plenty have made sure ye are.”
Thor didn’t dare shift his attention to Dominic or Keenan to see their reactions. But he sensed both men were even angrier than they were a moment ago. Disgust poured from them as their posture grew more defensive. They were only slight changes to how Keenan sat astride his mount and Dominic stood, but it was enough for their enemies to tell. Several horses sashayed sideways, their owner’s nervousness increasing.
Good. There are more than ten times us, but three Sinclairs are enough to worry them. They must ken how close we are to the border.
“Lady Greer, it would be best for the Sinclairs if ye come with us without a fuss.” Emmanuel, the second-most senior member of the Gunns’ council, stated. “We will leave Thormud alive, but if ye wish him to remain in one piece, ye get off yer horse and walk over here.”
“Father Bennett of Ackergill Tower has our marriage recorded in the parish register. Ye should have returned there rather than chase us for naught. Ye canna force me to marry lest ye make me a bigamist. Any child conceived after today would be illegitimate. Ma husband’s red hair will prove the bairn I carry now is his. Neither will get Laird MacDonnell what he desires. Neither will be an heir. Moving forward with any of this is pointless. Return each other’s coin or keep it. Marriage to Laird MacDonnell is impossible.” Greer raised her hand to stay anyone’s objection. “Ye ken ye canna kill Thormud and survive the outcome, so dinna threaten to make me a widow. Laird MacDonnell, even if ye forced me to live as I did before, dinna think for a moment that I canna kill ye. I endured what I did to protect ma people. Without that as ma purpose, I have nay reason to remain chained like an animal. I will kill ye the first night ye come to ma bed.”
“Such bravery from a woman half ma size. Ye willna do aught, lass. I’ve survived this long for a reason. Ye willna be the one to end ma life.”
“Yer daughter is a hen-wit. Ye need a wife to bear ye a son and to run yer keep. Ye dinna want her to continue as chatelaine, so ye will have nay choice but to give me the keys. Ye ken as well as I do that the lady of the clan keeps various things that can kill a mon. I could poison ye with nightshade or lye. I could pour wax and tar on ye, then set ye aflame. I could hide a meat cleaver and butcher ye. There are plenty of ways to do away with a tiresome husband. Men arenae the only ones who can be rid of an unwanted spouse. Touch Thormud or take me from him, and ye can pick the day of yer death. But dinna make it one too far from now because ye willna have long to wait.”
“Lass—”
“Bitch, be silent.” Wallace interrupted Matthew and nudged his horse to walk until its nose nearly brushed the nose of Greer’s horse as he lunged for her throat. However, he was unprepared for the dirk she hid in her skirts’ folds. She thrust thesgian dubhupwards, piercing his palm through to the back of his hand. She twisted and withdrew before anyone understood what she planned.
“I dinna belong to ye or any mon. Ye have nay right to touch me. Try it again, and I will leave ye with a hole in yer throat rather than yer hand. I tell ye all now. Ye thought I couldnae fight back. Ye thought me weak and subservient. I endured far more than any of ye could. That I can promise. I did it because ye and Edgar led the clan to ruin. I kept the ledgers. I paid the servants, merchants, and laborers. I resolved disputes. I did it because it was ma duty, and the Gunns dinna deserve to suffer for the likes of ye. But I am nay longer a Gunn. I am a Sinclair. I bear ma husband’s name, and I wear his ring and his plaid. I have nay loyalty left for ye. Ye dinna ken me at all, but I will be yer angel of death if ye try to take me from ma husband.”
“Such a pretty speech,” Wallace sneered. His uninjured hand swept back in a fist and swung toward her head. Thor’s sword swished through the air, severing the limb at mid-forearm.
“Ma wife said dinna touch her.”
Men surged forward as Wallace stared dumbfounded at his amputated limb before howling in agony. Amid Dominic and Thor maneuvering to protect Greer, Keenan pulled his horse away from the group and spurred it into a gallop, racing toward the border. Thor knew his friend would understand Thor’s intentions by reacting so extremely. He was several furlongs away from the group before anyone noticed Keenan’s escape. A dozen men charged after him, but he navigated the bogs better than most.
