‘Not just yet,’ sneered the man.
‘Stand aside, or I’ll take your other eye,’ said Bryce with steel in his voice that Maren had not heard before. She glanced quickly at him and away at the other two men spreading out slowly from each other and flanking them.
‘I’ll stand aside when I’ve a mind to and when I’ve taken from you, you arrogant bastard,’ said the redcoat. ‘I’ll have your coin first and your woman second. I’ll make you watch her squeal, and after I’m done with the bitch, then mayhap we’ll blind you for good measure.’
‘Not a wise choice of words,’ said Bryce, and in an instant, he pulled free his musket from his belt and fired it at one of the men coming alongside them. There was a crack and then a howl of pain from the man. Maren’s mount reared up in a panic, clawing the air. She was thrown from her saddle to land heavily in the wet grass. A little winded, she struggled to rise. A body cannoned into her and sent her flying.
The man grappling with her was heavy and strong. Maren fought against him getting a choke hold, but he pressed her down, and there was no breath in her lungs. Panic took her, and her father’s words from childhood slid into her head.‘Never let a man get on top of you in a tussle. His weight is an advantage that gives you no escape.’
She was vaguely aware of the clash of swords and a man crying out, but her eyes were going black. She kicked and fumbled blindly. Her fingers grazed her ankle. If she could just reach it.
Maren brought the dirk up and plunged it into the man’s back. He leapt back as if scalded, and his hands fell from her throat. Without a pause, she swept the knife at him repeatedly in a terrified frenzy, her hands sliding in his blood. The blade crunched against bone and sank into muscle, and in his shock, she managed to push the man off and get to her feet.
It was to see Bryce grappling with the bald man, who suddenly wriggled free and ran back to his horse. He was fleeing, thank God. But to Maren’s horror, he wrenched a musket out of his pack and aimed it straight at Bryce.
‘No,’ she screamed. There was a puff of smoke and a crack, and Bryce fell.
Maren did not think. She ran at the man, and when she was almost eye to eye with him, he with his sword braced to sweep at her, she pulled out her little musket and shot him in the forehead. His eyes widened in surprise, his mouth fell open, and he crumpled to the ground like a puppet with cut strings.
A shudder took Maren, and she felt sick. A hand came down heavily on her shoulder and made her leap back and hold out the musket, even though it was useless now that it had been fired.
‘Tis me, lass. Nothing to fear now,’ said Bryce. There was a scarlet stain spreading on his shoulder.
Maren raised a hand to inspect Bryce’s wound, but he shook it off, his admiration spilling out. ‘By God, Maren, you have some mettle for a lass, taking them on. Are you hurt at all?
‘No, but you are,’ she said, taking hold of his arm forcefully to inspect his wound.
‘Tis just a scratch,’ he snapped, pulling away from her. ‘What infernal luck to run into these three dogs.’
‘Either that or they were waiting for us,’ said Maren with dread churning her belly.
‘What do you mean, lass?’
‘How did they know where I was?
‘What are you blabbing about, woman?’
‘Damn. It must be Angel. She has no love for me, and her man came for her. He was a villain. Maybe he got paid for information and ….’
‘Maren?’
She went over to the bald man and raised his right hand. There was a bandage around it, brown with old blood. ‘This was the man I stabbed. His is not the kind of face you forget. He is the reason you found me in jail, that, and his wandering fingers. I think we were followed from Balloch, and they circled around us for an ambush, to settle a grudge.’
Bryce narrowed his eyes. ‘Maybe. But the grudge might have been against me, not you, and this poor fool was sent to do the deed as a disguise for the real enemy.’
‘Who?’
‘I suspect it was Laird Justice MacKellar, the man who freed me, and you too, lass. Why, that devious old bastard.’
‘Why free you just to kill you?’
‘Let us just say that I have the means to ruin the man if I choose.’ Bryce sighed. ‘But it is a stretch to think of that fat bumptious fool planning something so dirty and underhand.’
‘The gentry get their hands as dirty as poor folk when it suits them,’ said Maren. She took a deep breath to fight back nausea. ‘Well, I have killed a man, and so have you, so we’d best hide the mark of our crime. Let us drag them into the trees out of sight, quick as can be,’ she said, grabbing the bald man’s hands.
‘You think it a crime to defend your life, Maren?’ said Bryce, even more impressed by her composure and quick thinking.
‘Are you going to help or not?’ was her response.
