Page 19 of Wicked Kilted Highlander

As they stood in the midst of the carnage, their panting echoing off the walls, they heard the frantic whinnying of the horses tied just outside the cave. They rushed to the entrance. Clearly spooked by the fighting, Brighde had torn away from her tether and broken free. They caught sight of her darting off into the trees.

"Och, we've lost her ," Darragh muttered under his breath. "Well, nae matter. We’ll ride together. Come, Lara," he urged, taking her by the hand. "We must make haste, there may be others following them. We need to ride hard and fast if we’re tae get away and reach yer home before nightfall."

She needed no further persuasion as they moved towards his stallion, the magnificent piebald beast. Darragh couldn't help but marvel at Lara's bravery and resilience. She had fought alongside him, saved his life, and proven herself capable of great courage in the face of overwhelming odds.

He quickly untied the horse, saddled it, and mounted it. "Come on, Lara," he said, urgency lacing his voice, "we've nae time tae lose."

Lara hesitated, casting one last glance at the fallen attackers, their bodies a grim testament to the bloody struggle they had just endured. But she knew better than to question Darragh's judgment, and with a swift, determined motion, she took his proffered arm and swung herself behind him into the saddle.

"On ye go, Darragh," she urged, her arms going immediately around his waist.

With a nod, Darragh leaned forward and whispered a command to the stallion. The horse surged beneath them, its powerful muscles propelling them forward into the dawn light. The wind whipped at their faces, stinging their cheeks and bringing tears to their eyes as they raced away from the carnage they had left behind them.

Darragh's thoughts churned with the chaotic rhythm of the stallion’s hooves, his mind racing to plan their next move. He had no idea who their attackers were, and prayed they would not follow. But he knew they were far from safe.

The warmth of Lara's body pressed against his was a welcome comfort amidst the biting wind that tore at their cloaks.

Darragh’s mind was drifting to the battle they had just left behind, and to the enemies he feared still pursued them.

"Will they follow us, dae ye think?" Lara asked, her voice trembling with the weight of unspoken fears.

"Mayhap," he sighed, unwilling to commit to false reassurances. "But we will face them if need be."

After what felt like hours of hard riding, the exhausted horse began to slow, his gait uneven and labored. Darragh scanned the surrounding landscape, seeking a suitable spot for them to rest. His own weariness weighed heavily upon him, the fatigue of countless days and nights spent fleeing from one danger to the next taking its toll.

"Over there," he murmured, directing them towards a small copse of trees nestled within a shallow ravine. The sheltered spot would provide some protection from the elements, at least for a short while.

As they dismounted and led the mare into the enclosure, Darragh felt the full weight of his exhaustion and the blow to his head crashing down upon him. His legs buckled beneath him, and he sank to the ground, leaning against the rough bark of a tree trunk.

"Ye need rest, Darragh," Lara admonished gently, her eyes filled with concern as she knelt beside him. "We both dae."

"Aye," he agreed, though the very thought of sleep filled him with dread—for in sleep, the nightmares would come.

"Try tae sleep," Lara urged softly, her hand resting upon his shoulder. "I’ll keep watch, I promise."

"Thank ye, Lara," he murmured before he succumbed.