Alastair came out of the castle a short time after Ava had left. He looked around for her, but could not see her anywhere. Presently a guard ran up to him, breathless, holding a stitch in his side.
“M’Laird—” he gasped. “The Mistress has gone oot. I couldnae stop her—I tried, I swear I did!”
Alastair cursed under his breath. “Right, Robbie,” he barked. “You and me, let us go and get her. And God help her when I see her!” His voice was now seething with rage as he vaulted onto his stallion Rory and galloped out of the castle in a thunder of hooves. Robbie was close behind him.
Alastair knew the exact path that Ava had taken. The cliff path had always been her favorite, and he had no doubt that she had been heading that way. He was furious, but frightened. He had heard tales of these bandits, and he hoped that Ava had not had the misfortune to encounter them.
However, just as he and Robbie crested a little rise in the hill, Alastair saw what he had been dreading. There was a familiar horse in the distance, a woman lying on the ground, and a man bending over her.
As soon as Brian and his men saw the woman on the horse, they spurred their horses into a gallop and covered the distance between them in a few minutes. Brian could see her terrified face as she noticed them for the first time, and it sent a thrill of eager lust through him. This was going to be the best sport he had in an age!
She tried to urge her horse into a gallop but it was too late. They had boxed her in so that they surrounded her on three sides, and the sea lay on the other. She was caught in a trap, and the only way out of it was for her to dive off the cliff and be dashed to pieces on the rocks below. Brian saw her horrified expression as she looked around the sinister masked faces trying to seek an escape route, and he could almost hear the pounding of her heart as she realized there was none. It fueled the fire of his lust; it had always fed on the fear of women and now it was a raging inferno.
Still, she looked like a well-bred, wealthy woman. She might have something on her that was worth a pound or two. He dismounted, then went over to her and looked her over, his scrutiny taking in everything: the horse, the saddle, even the pouch she used to carry a few pennies in.
He snatched that off her at once, held his sword up, and told her to get down from Pinky, disguising his voice so that she would not recognize it again, then he thrust his hand inside her dress to see the gold locket that was hanging there.
“No!” she cried desperately. “Please—it is worth nothing and it has a picture of my mother inside. I have no other memento of her. Please let me keep it!”
“Take it aff or I will rip it aff yer neck!” he said viciously, his hands reaching for her neck. Ava hastily removed it, and handed it to him. He gave the locket to Jamesie then barred her way with an outstretched arm as she tried to mount her horse again.
“May I get on my horse?” she asked. Her voice was trembling.
“Naw,” he replied, enjoying the surge of power he was feeling. “This nag belangs tae me noo.”
“But how am I going to get home?” she asked desperately.
Brian looked down at her smooth, well-kept skin and glossy hair. She was one of those rich toffs who looked down on the common people from a great height without seeing them at all. All of a sudden he felt a surge of rage so strong that he gave her a satisfying backhanded slap across her face with a force that came all the way from his shoulder. With a little scream, she fell backwards and landed on her backside in the dirt.
Brian stood over her and began to untie his hose. This was what he had been waiting for. He felt his manhood engorge and lust flowed through his veins, but then he realized that she was lying limp and passive beneath him. The fear had gone out of her eyes; she was resigned to her fate. He felt cheated; he loved it when they fought back, since it made victory all the sweeter, but she was lying there helpless, and she could still give him good sport.
His hose was halfway down his thighs when he saw the horses.
Alastair did not stop to think. The battle cry that he let loose surged through his body all the way from his stomach and came out of his mouth like the roar from an enraged tiger. He did not slow down as he crashed into the thugs, and their horses reared in panic.
It was chaos after that. Alastair had his heavy four-foot-long claymore with him, and fury lent strength to his arm. He swept the first bandit’s head off his shoulders as if he were beheading the top of a thistle, without even losing speed, and his guard pushed another one off his horse and over the cliff. The one who was kneeling over Ava looked up in sheer terror, but he managed to mount up and get away, and so did the man who was holding Pinky, taking the valuable horse with him. Robbie chased them for a while, but he could not catch up with them.
Alastair ran over to where Ava was lying motionless, her arms across her face as if to fend away danger. She had not moved during the battle, even though she was almost in the thick of the action, and at first he thought she was dead, but as he gently uncovered her face she opened wide and terrified eyes. She screamed as she saw him, thinking that one of the bandits had come back for her, but as he said her name and gathered her into his arms she realized she was safe, and gave a great sigh of relief before bursting into tears.
Alastair held onto her, rocking her like a baby and making soothing noises into her hair till at last her tears stopped. He looked at her blotched and puffy face and she attempted a smile.
“I am fine,” she said hoarsely. “Thank you for coming to rescue me, Alastair. I am sorry I didn’t wait for you. I was so daft!”
“Did they...touch you?” Alastair asked anxiously, dreading the answer.
She shook her head firmly. “You did not give them the chance, big brother!” she said, managing a nervous laugh.
“They will have no chance to do anything but dangle at the end of a rope if I see them again!” Alastair growled. “Come, Ava, you can ride on one of the two horses we got from those creatures.”
“No!” Ava cried in panic. “I do not want to touch anything they have touched!” She hugged herself for protection.
Alastair sighed as he pulled her to her feet. “I understand, although it is not the fault of the poor beasts. Come, Sister. You can ride with me on Rory.” Then he picked her up and walked over to his horse, who was still dancing and snorting with excitement.
Alastair lifted Ava onto him and he calmed down at once. “Ava,” he said smiling, “perhaps this is not the time for jokes, but I know this horse, and I can tell you that he has not had so much amusement for ages!”
Ava smiled, a wide genuine smile at last. She was still trembling with fear, but safety was close at hand. Alastair vaulted up behind her and urged Rory into a trot. When they got back to the castle she bathed for an hour to wash the stench of the bandits off.
That was the last time she tasted fresh air for a long, long time.
