A sling aimed in Alec’s direction as a rock projectile flew with astonishing force at his stallion, hitting the rearing animal in the flank.
It was enough to topple the frenzied creature and throw Alec hard to the ground, a scream tearing from Rowen’s throat as she veered her mare around to ride back.
She could see Alec wasn’t moving as his horse struggled to its feet, while his attacker stared at Rowen from the treeline.
It wasn’t Errol at all, but a man she recognized as one of her father’s men-at-arms—dear God, was her entire family a party to this plan to rid her of Alec, and not just her brother?
Her heart slamming in her throat, Rowen dismounted and ran to Alec to find him lying on his back, his face ashen and a lump forming above his right temple where he must have hit his head.
His chest rose and fell, though, which filled her with such relief that she was stunned by its intensity.
An unfortunate accident. Just as Errol had said, a Sutherland clansman had made it look like Alec’s horse had become startled and thrown him, though it had been the stones striking the stallion that had caused him to rear and then crash to the ground.
Had the horse rolled atop Alec as well and crushed his body? Was this how life would end for him?
Tears smarting Rowen’s eyes, she felt so sickened of a sudden as she collapsed to her knees beside Alec that she thought she might retch.
Yet it was his low groan that made her bend over him so she could hear what he whispered, feeling so wretched, aye, and guilty, too, for what had just befallen him.
“Go, lass…fetch help.”
“No, I dinna want tae leave you!” she cried out, glancing up to see that her clansman had disappeared into the trees and mayhap was riding south already to relay the news of Alec’s imminent demise. “Can you sit up? Mayhap I can help you tae your horse?—”
“I canna move…ah, God, my head.”
Alec didn’t say anything more after grimacing in pain, his face grown paler as she realized he was no longer conscious, his breathing become shallow.
For so formidable a warrior to lie so still upon the grass, Rowen feared then that he was truly dying and she began to sob.
What sort of wicked creature had she become to even agree to such a plan? With shaking hands, she touched his face to find it warm…her tears dripping down upon his lips that had kissed her so fervently only moments before.
Praying now desperately that he wouldn’t die, Rowen struggled to her feet and ran to mount her mare as Alec’s stallion ventured close to nudge at him with his muzzle. The horse’s flank was bleeding, but other than that he appeared unharmed, which made another wrenching sob tear from Rowen’s throat.
“Aye, watch over him, Tempest!”
She didn’t say anything more, but veered around in the direction of the castle and kicked her mare into a hard gallop.
A last glance over her shoulder telling her that Alec hadn’t moved at all and was oblivious that she had ridden off to find help.
Oblivious…or dead—God help her, no, she would never forgive herself,never!
CHAPTER9
“Will my husband live?” Such regret accompanied Rowen’s query that tears filled her eyes when Simeon, a wizened old healer, gave a heavy sigh.
“He should have regained his senses by now, but still he hasna awakened—aye, it’s worrisome. He must have struck his head upon a rock tae cause such swelling, but thankfully no bones are broken. Och, I canna say, Lady Mackay. For now, there is nothing else for me tae do than sit here with him and wait.”
“Aye, dinna leave us,” Rowen implored him in barely above a whisper, her throat had grown so tight. “Will a cool cloth ease the swelling?”
Simeon nodded and at once, she jumped up from her chair in spite of the oversized tunic that she’d grown accustomed to and rushed across the room to pour water from a pitcher into a bowl. Then she quickly soaked a small linen towel from a stack on the table, squeezed out the water, and hastened back to the bed where Alec’s men had carried him.
Their faces grim and their eyes filled with unspoken blame that Rowen had accepted without a word.
She had told the Mackay clansmen who had ridden back with her that Alec’s horse had reared and toppled over, throwing him to the ground…a half-truth, for she couldn’t say more.
Alec hadn’t moved from where she had left him, his loyal stallion standing nearby and tossing its head when they approached.
Her dread had only increased as Alec was lifted into the same wagon that had carried the stag earlier that day…and she had climbed in with him to cradle his head.
