Page 1 of Highlander’s False Identity

Chapter One

“Think hard, lad. Ye only get one chance: yer gold an’ yer horse, or yer miserable throat!” the girl hissed, pulling the muffler tight against her face, and pressing the blade against the man’s cheek.

Everything in the woodland turned to silence; the birds overhead stopped singing, and she could hear the man’s heart beating hard against his chest.

“So, what’s it to be, eh?” she asked, pressing the dagger into his flesh. She had attacked him from behind, and in the black trews and léine, was indistinguishable as a woman. Only the delicately framed eyes rounded with long lashes gave her away.

She peered into the man’s face and was unprepared for what she saw. He was so young, the bewilderment palpable in his green eyes. The lad was so wildly handsome that she almost relented.

“Well?” she demanded menacingly. “Dinnae make me cut off yer bonny nose, laddie!” she said, watching his eyes widen in terror.

But it didn’t last for long. He began to punch and kick, fighting back against her slender grip. Although she had the knife, he was stronger, and it was impossible to hold him. Before long, he pushed her aside.

“Ye’ll nae get awa’ wi’ this! Ye’ll be caught and hung, ye scoundrel!” he shouted, getting to his feet.

“Nae ye dinnae!” she cried, forgetting to lower her voice. “The Spaniard at Glen Shiel thought he’d get away from my daddy’s blade too. His blood didnae wash off for weeks!”

The man’s green eyes flashed vehemently, and the woman’s heart gave a painful thump; did he recognize her?

Without waiting to find out, she pushed him back. In the distance, she heard hooves, and turning was nearly knocked sideways by a huge black stallion.

“Prince!” the man called as the girl dived for cover, away from the hooves of the charging horse.

“Gadzooks, it’s nae a horse, but one o’ Satan’s imps!” she yelled. The lad laughed before bringing the horse to a standstill.

He walked over to her, with a length of rope, which was surely for her hands. She was down on the ground, tangled and scratched in the undergrowth. The lad sneered, his green eyes glinting in the chilly winter morn.

“Dinnae think ye’ll get away wi’ this!” he scoffed. “I’ll come back for ye – if the devil hasnae taken ye first!”

Soon he was binding her tight against the sharp branches of the pine tree. She struggled, but it was to no avail. As he tied her, the girl watched him. He was strangely familiar. From somewhere, she could picture his face in her head.

Despite herself, she could not resist taking a closer look at the man she had been attempting to rob. He was about twenty years of age, tall and good looking, with a noble chin and a determined nose.

His complexion was smooth, and the skin looked so soft, the girl found herself wishing she could run her fingers over it.

It would have been easy to give in to her softer feelings. What fight she had left was being overwhelmed by the crushing tiredness that she felt. Her stomach ached for food. It had been two days since she had eaten properly, foraging from croft to croft in the clanless zone. She was too weary and hungry to fight more.

But then she pulled herself up sharp. She was so close now – she could not afford to fail. She had to get his knapsack. Undoubtedly it contained jewelry, her only chance to get out of bandit country safely.

The young man was mounting his horse and about to ride off. Knowing she had to act fast, the girl struggled against her bonds. With a little effort, she had them loose.

Stealthily, she slipped her narrow wrists free and found her slingshot. She had one chance to get this right.

The stone catapulted through the air, across the clearing and straight into his face.

“Aargh!” he screamed and instantly fell from his horse. Unfortunately, his fall was broken by something soft and supple: her!

Without warning, she found herself buried under his weight. She fought hard to get free, pushing against him wildly, trying to move his muscular form off her body. They were close enough to kiss, and she could hear his breathing coming in waves.

For the briefest of seconds, the lad’s eyes were face to face with hers. He stared so hard that she blushed, heat racing through her body. The boy’s lips were pink and inviting. For half a moment, she imagined kissing them.

Her reverie cost her the advantage. Within seconds, the man caught both her wrists in one strong hand, while the other hand gripped her face. Too late to scream, the girl’s eyes bulged, and her heart pounded. But he didn’t use his strong, pale hand to throttle her. Instead, he yanked down her scarf, exposing her face to the cold, March air.

There was a sharp intake of breath, as the lad stared at her, open-eyed. Despite her unmasking, the woman could not help but take amusement at his reaction.

“Gadzooks!” he exclaimed, looking visibly shocked. The girl smirked. Clearly, her disguise worked well; the lad had no idea that she was a female.

A thin veil of recognition passed over his face. She watched as it traveled down through his features. Instantly, he let her go.