Chapter Eighteen
The full moon overhead cast silvery light across the horse path Adam traveled on, the lad following not far behind. Unfortunately, Adam couldna push his mount as hard as he would his warhorse, for the farmer’s horses were likely a crossbreed between a Highland pony and a full-sized stallion. ’Twas still better to ride than walk, and he admired the strength of the beast and patted his neck affectionately.
Curse his father. Damn the Sassenachs for coming to MacKay land. Though he didn’t know who exactly was here, Adam could easily guess. For the threat had always been there since the day Kali had arrived. It must be Thomas Bane and Lord Nelson, come to take the woman Adam loved back to the lowlands.
“Master Adam!” the boy called to him.
Adam ignored him and rode on, sure he had figured out where they needed to go, a northwestern trek. A wagon with two horses hadn’t made it as far as the bastard English soldiers had hoped. And the moment Adam set eyes on them, he’d…
“Master Adam!” the lad yelled louder this time and halted his horse.
Irritated by the boy’s delay, Adam swung his mount around and rode up to the lad. “Ye stop when I say to.”
“But sir…”
“What’s yer name, lad?”
“Gorren.”
Adam thought about the name. “After the pony?”
The boy frowned. “Aye. Me father has a deep affection for the wee beasties.”
“Doona fret,” Adam said, “there are worse things to be named after.”
The lad pointed east. “I heard a rider coming from that direction.”
Adam stiffened as he heard branches breaking in the distance. He might as well get caught with his plaid off. No weapons. Not even a saddled mount. “Dismount and find as many stones as ye can, lad. Hide in the brush, and if I need help, throw those stones at the head of whatever man attacks me. Understand?”
Gorren nodded and did as he was told.
Adam waited, grateful for the windless night. Nothing else stirred, not even an owl hooting. In fact, this place seemed unnaturally quiet, as if the fae had cast a spell over the forest. After some time, a lone rider emerged, and Adam was prepared to fight. Until…
“Adam?”
It was Sam.
“Blessed Virgin,” Sam said, sliding off his horse. “I’ve been seeking ye out since…”
Adam joined him on the ground and gripped his forearm. “Tell me all. Is it Thomas Bane?”
Sam nodded, resentment on his face. “He dinna come alone. Lord Nelson accompanied him, along with twelve English soldiers. There’s to be a wedding tomorrow night.”
“Who?” Adam knew the answer, but his protective nature with Kali, his instinctive need to possess her, made him lean closer to Sam, daring him to utter the words.
His friend seemed to sense the danger and backed up. “Doona make me say it.”
“Tell me,” he demanded.
“Kali and Lord Nelson and yer father and Ariana Bane.”
“Ariana Bane? Kali’s sister?”
“Aye. Both blessed couples to wed together.”
Adam saw only red and punched Sam in the jaw.
“Blessed couples?” Adam repeated, his tone infused with bitterness. “Is that what ye rode all this way to tell me? To invite me to the nuptials?”
