“Nay, ’tisna. They’ve chased both of us for years. Anders is well-capable of enjoying them— and of fending off any lass he doesna want or trust. What the lasses may no’ yet realize is that Da wants Anders to wed outside of Sutherland, too, and bring home a bride and an alliance to benefit us.”
“I think I hear hearts breaking already.”
“Aye, if ye dinna, ye soon will. Look— there’s Dunrobin.”
Mariota looked where he pointed. Indeed, the tops of the highest towers were just becoming visible above the intervening trees. “Almost home,” she said on a breath.
“Almost home,” Stellan repeated and squeezed her hand. “Better?”
“Aye. Thank ye for distracting me from my worries.”
“I’ll always care for ye, lass.”
“I ken ye will. And I will take care of ye the same. And someday, our bairns, as well.”
This time, Stellan gave her a smile that held heat rather than humor. “The sooner we wed, the better, I think.”
“I think so, too.”
An arrow flew out of the woods and buried itself in the pommel where Valkyrie perched, pinning several of her claws to the wood.
Stellan pushed Mariota down over her and threw his body across hers. “Find that shooter!”
Mariota did her best to control Valkyrie’s thrashing while several MacKays took off into the woods. Her hood had come loose and Mariota knew the hawk, in her struggles, could rip out her throat without meaning to. “Let me up, Stellan!”
“Nay, stay down.”
“I need to secure Valkyrie, and free her claws. She’s got her hood loose enough to come off.”
“Damn.” Stellan sat up and pulled Mariota back against him, then reached around her and grabbed the arrow, working to get it loose and free her hawk.
Mariota secured Valkyrie’s hood, then went to work helping Stellan. As soon as they managed to work the arrow loose enough for Stellan to pull it out of the pommel, Mariota told him, “I’m going to let her fly. She’s safer above the trees than here.”
While she worked at the ties of Valkyrie’s jesses, Stellan asked, “Will she fly for Dunrobin’s mews?”
“I hope so,” Mariota told him as she got Valkyrie free and pulled off her hood. “She lost a claw,” she said as the hawk wasted no time launching herself skyward. “Fly on!” Mariota shouted at her, then swept her hands, streaked with blood, forward. The blood had to be Valkyrie’s. Her fingers were uncut, and she hadn’t noticed any blood on Stellan’s. She looked up in time to see another arrow track Valkyrie, but it missed. “Fly, lass!” Even bleeding, she should reach Ian at Dunrobin.
“Damn it, he’s still out there,” Stellan said. “Stay down and let the men wall ye off,” he said and leapt for his horse.
“’Tis Alber,” Mariota shouted as he rode toward the source of the arrows. “It has to be. He’s a terrible shot.” She didn’t know if Stellan heard her. Two of his men and four MacKays closed in around her too quickly for her to see whether he acknowledged her or not. His remaining two Sutherlands took off after him as soon as they saw she was surrounded.
“Ride, lass,” Stellan’s man Elias told her. “We’re for Dunrobin as fast as we can.”
The men kicked their horses into a gallop, forcing hers to keep pace, and raced for Dunrobin’s gates. No more arrows came their way, confirming Mariota’s sense that the shooter was Alber. He tried to kill the hawk that damaged his face and neck, she was sure of it. If instead, he hit her, she was sure he’d consider it a bonus.
The castle proved to be farther away than it appeared, as was often the case in the mountains. But her guards refused to let up their urgent pace and rode hard. The men beside her kept sweeping her with their gazes, making sure she was up for this rough pounding. She gave them a nod and bent lower over her horse’s neck. She would stay with them, no matter how fast they rode, for as long as her horse could keep up.
They maintained the pace far longer than Mariota expected but slowed to rest the horses by a fast-moving burn. By now, she was certain they were in no danger from Alber— or whomever shot at Valkyrie. She had to admit the possibility that she’d been wrong. In any case, she hoped her hawk had made it to the mews. Her first concern now was Stellan.
She twisted in her saddle to look behind them.
“He’ll be along,” Camus told her.
“With Alber’s head dripping gore on his sword, I hope,” she muttered. That man had been a thorn in her side, and a danger to her and to Valkyrie for entirely too long. Her da had finally sent him away. A bad decision, that.
And today, she was certain, Valkyrie had paid the price of a claw. She hoped that was all her hawk had suffered, and that the Sutherland hawk master, Ian, would recognize her and realize she needed care.
She looked skyward but saw no sign of a circling hawk. Valkyrie had to have obeyed and gone on ahead. She couldn’tbear to think of the alternative, that an arrow had found her and she lay dead in the woods behind them. Tears burned the back of her eyes. She blinked them away. She would not borrow trouble. Not that. Never that. Alber could not win.
