Reade’s eyes narrowed at the man. What was he about? Reade flicked his gaze around the trees, looking for the inevitable partner that this reprobate had by his side. Paden was not a man who got his own hands dirty, that much Reade has already guessed. His partner,thatman held a weapon, Reade was certain.
“Right now, it looks like ye won’t be leaving. Good riddance to bad rubbish,” Reade told him as he moved forward, lifting his sword. In a flash, Reade slanted his claymore downward, and Paden whipped around the tree, so the sword caught the tree trunk, flinging bark into the air. Not the blood and bone Reade had anticipated.
Reade yanked his sword from the tree with a grunt and spun around, ready for a second attack. Paden stood behind him, along with several men who had emerged from the trees. Reade’s lips pressed into a tight line as he weighed his next moves.
Paden was cannier than he’d expected. Who were these men? Working on behalf of the Campbells, no doubt.
Combating several men involved other tactics – mostly keeping his back away from a blade. He could forget Paden. Without a sword in hand, the Gordon man was the least of his worries. Two of the larger men spun broadswords in their hands with expertise. They appeared to be the most skilled, yet their broadswords were shorter than his claymore by more than a foot, which gave him the benefit of reach. He’d go for them first.
Reade feinted to the left, and when he saw their feet move to counter, he shifted to the right and brought his claymore over his head again. He was aiming for the larger man, who met his sword. The blades clanged, and the force of the claymore and Reade’s attack drove the man to his left, against the man next to him. Reade gripped his sword in front of him and swept around, ready to take on the two other men who were rushing into the fray.
Sweat dripped down Reade’s back despite the chill. The smaller man from the left moved more quickly than his larger kinsman, and Reade brought his long blade around to counter him, the force of the hit flinging the man aside. He lifted his blade again to counter the larger man who had followed the smaller one, when a fiery, stinging pain caught his right arm, vibrating to his wrist. His entire arm went limp and his grip on his sword weakened. He tightened his left hand so his sword didn’t fall.
His mind flashed to the moment he watched his cousin die, slayed by the same types of devious highlanders, beholden to a foreign king and who despised their own brethren. Was he, too, going to succumb to the same fate as Camden?
The Gordons closed in, and Reade inhaled, gripping his sword.
Nay. He would not.He’d not let Camden’s fate be his own. He’d not let Camden’s death be for nothing. Reade would fight to the bitter end, slaughtering as many Campbell-aligned Gordons as he could.
His right arm couldn’t bend at the needed angle to grab his knife, so his claymore in his left hand would have to do.
Seamus and his menrode south on the wooded road as though the demons of hell chased them.
Nay, Blair thought as she clung to Maddock on the back of his horse.No demons behind them. The only demons in this wood were before them, waiting for Reade.
She prayed during the entire jostling ride, praying that Paden had indeed come alone. That Reade had dispatched this man who had caused so much misery in her life. That with his death, any suspicion leveled upon her ended.
Her backside ached from the ride, and she closed her eyes for most of it. At least it gave her something other than her stomach to focus on. The trees raced past them too quickly, it was more of a blur. But Maddock handled his steed with skill, and soon her eyes opened, and she tapped his shoulder. He slowed so she might see where she had tied off her horse the day before.
The oak with the stout, low branch that stuck out into the road was straight ahead, and she pointed out the tree to Maddock. Without slowing, he shifted the reins to the left, bursting into the woods right at that tree. Seamus and the rest of the MacDonald men followed.
Reade’s horse was tied off to another oak, but that wasn’t what caught her attention. The only thing she saw was Reade at the center of a cluster of men, all of whom had their swords upraised. Reade’s right arm bled horribly, his tunic sliced where a Gordon sword had caught him unaware.
“Reade!” she shouted as Maddock, forgetting the dictate to keep Blair on the road, drove his horse right between the men and Reade. Maddock leapt off the horse before it came to a full stop. Then Maddock slapped the horse’s haunches, so it trotted off, out of the range of danger, with Blair scrambling atop the saddle to gain control of the reins.
Herarasaidwrapped around her hands, and the reins slipped between her fingers. Flipping the plaid off her shoulders, she reached again, found the leather reins, and grabbed hard. The horse halted and Blair steadied herself atop the saddle and turned to watch the chaos behind her.
Maddock had stepped in front of Reade, his sword upraised, and clashed with a larger Gordon man. Reade had stumbled back toward her, as more MacDonalds rushed to join Maddock.
Blair’s eyes frantically searched the woods for her stout attacker. Where was Paden? Had someone slain him already? Did she not see him because he was lying dead in the brush?
Then a pair of hands grabbed her waist and yanked her off the black steed. A quick screech erupted from her lips before a grimy, smelly hand slapped over her mouth, cutting off her shriek.
“Ye annoying witch. I told my cousin ye were more work than ye were worth,” Paden growled into her ear as he dragged her from the horse. “And look at what ye’ve done today. All this, just to get to ye, and because ye won’t do one small thing!”
Paden’s arm crushed against her belly, and she had a flare of panic.
The babe!
She dug her heels into the soft ground as her fingers clawed at his hand, trying to peel the filthy hand from her lips. One finger moved enough for her to scream.
“Reade!”
Then his finger was back and Paden whipped her around. What was he trying to do? Leave with her through the woods?
Blair shook her head wildly, and from the corner of her eye, she saw Reade turn away from the fighting men. His eyes were as bright as the new tree leaves, more green fire than hazel, and his face turned to stone when his gaze landed on Paden dragging her away. His left hand gripped his giant sword, while his right arm hung uselessly at his side, streaked in blood.
How was he going to fight Paden when his sword arm was wounded? And with Paden holding her in front of him like a human shield? What could Reade possibly do?
