She was sure the rogues would triumph right at the beginning of the fight and believed she would be left at the mercy of their crude desires after all. But after the first man fell, she found herself with more than a glimmer of hope for rescue within her breast; Blair was convinced she was watching a man who contained within him some form of superhuman strength.
Even taking his skill as a swordsman into account—and that was a prodigious talent all on its own—Slaine was still able to remind Blair of every hero her father had been able to conjure up in the stories he had told beside the parlor fireplace: Hercules, Lancelot, Beowulf. All were good men, but they still paled in comparison to the brute strength and powerful reality of what Slaine represented to Blair now.
He did not even stop to check the last bandit after the rascal had sunk to the ground and lain there like a puddle of dry rags. In three strides, Slaine was bending over Blair where she sat on the ground, hunkering down after throwing his sword to one side. He lifted her chin gently to peer into her face and stroked her hair back from her neck, checking to see if she was all right.
He had no recriminations to give or was even tempted to scold her. What had happened to her should never happen to any young girl, and Slaine had learned a valuable lesson from this—to never end an argument by walking away from it, especially with a woman as spirited and stubborn as Blair.
“Did they do anything, lass? Are ye alright?”
Blair knew she should be hysterical and swooning away from shock, but she was too impressed by what she had just seen to think about how other women would react.
“Ye...ye put an end to them as though they were gnats, Slaine,” Blair said admiringly, and took the hand he was offering her to stand up. “I’ve heard of such things in stories, but to see it for real is quite another matter.” Then remembering she was alright, bar a few bruises and scrapes, she reassured him, “I’m fine. I mean, they didnae lay a hand on me in the way ye’re worried about.”
“Ye shouldnae have seen it at all, Blair, and for that, I beg yer deepest pardon. Please forgive me for leaving ye, and when I ken there was evil afoot too. I’m glad ye’re nae harmed.”
At these contrite words, Blair felt her heart swell with a feeling she could not quite put her finger on. For the past two hours, she had known her behavior at the barricade had been unforgivably stupid and flying in the face of Slaine’s better judgment, but she had been too pigheaded to acknowledge it.
And here he was, apologizing to her as though it was his fault she had thrown a tantrum and done one of the most egregiously silly things in her life. Blair could not help herself from throwing her arms around Slaine and hugging him so hard she could feel his taut stomach muscles press against her.
“Dinnae beg me pardon, Slaine,” she said softly, her voice muffled as he wrapped his arms around her too. “Let’s pretend this never happened...let’s go back to how things were before.”
“Hm,” Slaine said, and dipped his head down to smell her hair. The red curls tickled his nose, and he could smell the heather she would sometimes thread through her ringlets. Whenever they passed a bush of purple flowers, Blair would reach down and pick a spray of the blooms. It was lovely.
Blair looked at him with a cheeky grin on her face. “However...seeing as we’re here, and the coast is clear...what do ye say to carryin’ on with this shortcut? It looks as though it loops around the cliffs and once we are free of these pesky woods, we might even make it to Cromachy a little early. What do ye say?”
Slaine gave a deep chuckle, and they broke free of their embrace naturally. “Aye, ye minx, let’s do that.”
He was relieved Blair had recovered from her ordeal so quickly. Little did Slaine realize it was because of his actions and presence that Blair had been able to bounce back from her abduction with no sign of trauma. Every now and again, as they walked their horses along the track, Blair would look back at Slaine striding behind her. She was not sure if it was because she enjoyed the comforting sight of him at her back or whether she could not believe a warrior hero had entered her life so suddenly and looked set to stay with her for a while.
They had both underestimated the length of time it would take to get back onto the road. Collecting Blair’s belongings, stopping to water the horses at a narrow stream and allowing them to graze had seen the sun dip hastily behind the treeline. They became aware of the dimming light when crickets and toads broke into harsh croaking and screeching from inside the forest.
“Losh sakes!” Blair cursed in frustration. “Are we nae to be free of this stupid wood?”
As she said the words, the path cleared in front of her, and she was able to pull Pooka free from the bushes. Blair thought she would never be as happy to see the back of a place as she was to be able to turn around and see the dense forest behind her. When Slaine and Maximus came out, she gave a cheer.
“See? We are back on the road, and the cliffs and barricade are no longer in sight. I’d say we should congratulate ourselves on a job well done!”
He smiled and looked around them for a place to camp. It was not yet twilight, but he did not want Blair to get lost looking for kindling again.
She did not wander far this time and seemed to take comfort in the fact she could keep him within eyesight at all times. They had refilled their waterskins at the stream, and Blair poured some of it into a pan, setting it to boil once Slaine had gotten the fire going.
He lay back with his head resting on Maximus’s saddle while Blair busied herself with the cooking. In such scant time they had been together, the two of them had already fallen into a routine they both found agreeable.
“‘Tis spuds an’ cured meat. I took the bandits’ food supplies. It’s nae like they would be needing them any time soon. Do ye think the one with the broken arm will come looking for us when he wakes up?” Blair wanted to chat while she waited for the potatoes to boil.
Slaine was captivated by Blair’s innocent conclusion about how men with broken arms behaved after their limb had been snapped by a man who had just taken out his friends with a sword.
“Nay, lass, he wilnae be comin’ after us.”
“Would ye like to hear me tell more tales about Cu Chulainn?” Blair was in a helpful mood and wanted to find any way she could to repay Slaine for his kind rescue.
“Hm, what about ye tell me why ye’re so determined to find this faither o’ yers? That’s a tale worth hearing.”
Blair sighed and closed her eyes. Her decision to set out alone to discover Angus’s whereabouts seemed like a thousand years ago now. There was something about being in the woods alone with Slaine that made her mind think it had always just been the two of them, like two characters in a fairy tale.
“Weeeeell, me brither, Adie, and wee sister, Maggie, arenae yet out o’ short coats and short petticoats. They need a faither to show them the world, ‘cause sure as eggs are eggs, they wilnae be learning about it from me mither.” As grateful as Blair was for the better than normal education she had received from her mother, Mistress Ainslee Carmichael’s feckless, spendthrift, slightly selfish nature drove Blair to distraction.
“And what about yerself? Doyeneed yer faither still?” Slaine was curious about how Blair viewed her father after he had shown himself to be fully as selfish and silly as he guessed Blair’s mother to be.
