Page 10 of Highland Storm

“Haud yer wheesht, ye cur!” spat Euan. “I’m the one givin’ the orders. We’ll bring The MacKeefe back to Crookston Castle and then decide what to do. We’ve got ourselves a fortune here. He’s worth more than the wench and will get us what we want.”

“A trade. Let’s do a trade right here, right now,” Hawke offered, not believing they would leave one of their own women there, especially the daughter of their laird. What kind of men were they? Hawke would risk his life to protect any of the women of their clan.

“Nay, no trade,” answered the man stubbornly. “Men, we are leavin’. Now!”

“We’re goin’ to leave Phoebe here with the enemy?” asked one of the MacNabs.

“He willna hurt her,” spat Euan.

“How can ye be sure?” asked Lennox.

“Because,” said Euan, holding his dagger in the air. “If he harms a hair on Phoebe’s head, their chieftain dies. Now, let’s move on out.”

With that, the leader of the MacNabs left with Hawke’s grandfather slung over a horse like naught more than bagged game.

“Damn it,” Hawke spat, looking up at Apollo, closing one eye in the bright sun. The bird landed in a tree nearby. “Now ye come to help me,” he complained. “A little late, dinna ye think?” Hawke scanned the dead bodies of four of his clan members, feeling his heart about ready to burst in his chest from grief. Wasted lives, and all for naught. These men shouldn’t have died today. And his grandfather never should have been taken prisoner. Hawke should have been able to stop it from happening, and possibly could have if he hadn’t been distracted by the girl.

“Let’s go,” he told her, pushing her toward her horse hidden in the forest. He wasn’t looking forward to returning to Hermitage Castle and telling his father that Ian MacKeefe was captured and four of their men were dead. Neither did he want to admit that he’d been attacked by the MacNabs for the second time that day.

Chapter 5

“Let me go!” cried Phoebe, struggling against the man’s hold. He sat on the horse behind her, holding one arm tightly around her waist and his other hand gripping the reins.

“Nay,” he growled in her ear. “Ye are the only hope I have of gettin’ my grandda back alive.”

“Yer grandfaither is the laird of the MacKeefe Clan?” she asked.

“He and my da both. They share the title since we hold lands in the Highlands as well as Hermitage Castle in the Lowlands.”

“So that makes ye just as valuable as me.”

“I doubt that,” he said, squinting one eye and looking up to the sky. His head spun and he couldn’t see straight. He’d never make it back to Hermitage Castle in this condition. There was a creek up ahead. If he could just wrap his wound and get a drink of water, perhaps he’d be able to ride back to the castle. He directed the horse deeper into the forest.

“Where are ye takin’ me?” she asked.

“We’re goin’ to stop at the water’s edge. My wound needs tendin’ to and ye are goin’ to do it.”

“Nay, I willna!”

“Ye’ll do as I say.”

“Ye canna make me.” She turned her head slightly and glared at him, as if he were some kind of monster. The wench tried his patience.

“I’m the one holdin’ the blade unless ye’ve forgotten.” He stopped at the creek and, with great effort, slid from the horse. When he did, the girl jumped off and started running in the opposite direction.

“I dinna have the time for this,” Hawke said, whistling and calling his hawk down from the sky.

Apollo chased after the girl, flying just above her head. Its wingspan alone was almost as long as the girl was tall. It left her in shadow as they moved. She screamed and dropped to the ground using her arms to cover her head. “Nay! Call off yer bird and stop this.”

Hawke chuckled. “If ye try to run again, I’ll command my bird to hunt ye down.”

“Nay, dinna do that,” she begged. “I already saw what it did to one of my clan members.”

“Then get back here and dress my wound.”

“Aye,” she answered. “But please, call off yer bird.”

“Apollo, come.” Hawke held out his arm, clad in leather. It was his left arm that was affected by his wound. The bird landed, using his arm as a perch. The red tail hawk was quite large. Since Hawke was wounded, it felt twice as heavy in his weakened state. He put the bird atop the horse’s pommel so the girl wouldn’t think of trying to steal his steed and ride away next.