Cam took over. “She is not from this time.”
“What?” Morag looked shocked, examining the two of them closely. “I warn you, now is not the time for jests.”
“No jests. She appeared in my tower out of thin air from several hundred years hence.”
“Extraordinary. The prophecy continues to run its tendrils through the world, I see. So, future woman. What do you know about this time?”
“I know that there’s no mention of any barefoot man sweeping the Highlands, taking over the clans, burning the land.”
“That bodes well. That means we still have time.”
“What?” Cam asked. “What are you talking about?”
She didn’t get chance to answer. From the gully behind them came the thundering of hooves. Rachel turned in time to see half a dozen people riding toward them, swords held high. “His people?” Cam asked.
“No,” Morag replied. “He would not send so few. They come hunting for something different. Hurry, come this way.”
“We cannot outrun them,” Cam replied, drawing his sword. “Take Rachel and get out of here.”
“Come with us,” Rachel replied, tugging at his arm.
“We would be cut down together if I did. Take care of yourself.” He swept her into his arms, planting a passionate kiss on her lips. She barely knew it was happening before it was over. “Now go!”
He turned to face the horses, his sword held high. Morag grabbed Rachel’s hand and dragged her away but she fought herself free.
She looked back in time to see the horses surrounding Cam. She felt certain he would be killed but there were too many of them crowding him and none had room to deal a fatal blow.
She could do nothing but watch things unfold. He swung his sword from left to right, fending the attackers off. “We will sacrifice her,” one yelled. “And you shall not stop us.”
Two rode away from the group, heading toward Rachel. She screamed as their horses thundered across the trail. Morag stepped in front of her, muttering something under her breath.
At once the horses stopped dead, throwing their riders. The two men thumped to the ground as their steeds turned tail and galloped away.
“Stay behind me,” Morag said, drawing a sword out from under her cloak. She pointed it toward the two dazed men. “Go while you can,” she said.
They took one look at each other and then laughed. “Come on then, Granny,” one said. “Let’s see what you’ve got.”
They lunged at the same time but she was far faster than they guessed. Neatly moving forward instead of back, she got past them, spinning on her heels and jabbing one with the tip of her blade, catching his ankle and nicking it deep enough for blood to spurt onto the grass under him.
He fell at once, screaming and clutching at the wound as his colleague looked less certain than moments earlier.
Rachel’s gaze moved to Cam who was gaining the upper hand over the remaining four. One man was slumped on the ground and Cam was on his horse, drawing the remaining three away.
Morag motioned for her attacker to come toward her and he roared, diving forward with his sword but overreaching, falling to his knees as he lost his balance.
Before he could right himself, her sword was in the back of his neck. His roar turned into a gurgle as he twisted sideways, falling next to his companion, never to move again.
Morag ran over to Rachel, not seeing the wounded man shifting on the ground. “Look out!” Rachel shouted but it was too late.
The man raised a dagger at the same time as Morag turned. Her sword plunged into him at the same time as he threw the dagger, his blade striking Morag in the chest. It wedged there as he slumped down dead. She fell, looking down in shock at the hilt sticking out of her.
“No!” Rachel shouted, kneeling beside her, holding her in her arms.
“What happened?” Cam asked, riding over. She looked past him. The other horses were galloping away, their riders no longer fancying their odds against such a skilled sword master.
“She’s dying,” Rachel said. “There’s too much blood.”
“Is there nothing we can do?”
