“Who are ye?” Duncan shouted in the man’s face. “A MacKinnon or a MacLeod?”
“I’m a MacLeod.”
“Who brought ye here?” Duncan demanded.
“Erik, the keeper of Trotternish Castle.”
Erik is here. As soon as Duncan heard of Hugh’s ambush, he should have known Erik would be part of it. He was not one to accept defeat lightly.
Anxiety balled in his stomach as he scanned the chaotic battle around him and did not see Erik. Although scores of men were in the camp, Duncan would see him if he were here. Erik was a man who stood out and gave orders.
Duncan gripped the front of the MacLeod warrior’s shirt. “Where is Erik?”
In the distance, he saw movement on the shore. True to their reputation for avoiding capture, some of the pirates were running for their boats now that the outcome of the battle was clear. And first among them was Hugh Dubh.
Duncan roared in frustration as he watched Hugh pushing off in his galley. When he turned his attention back to the MacLeod warrior whose chest he was sitting on, the man had terror in his eyes.
“I don’t know where Erik went,” the man said. “He went up the hill through the trees like he was stalking a doe.”
Duncan’s heart stuttered in his chest.
“Ian!” he shouted as he jumped to his feet. “I’m going back to our boats. Moira and Ragnall are in danger!”
Ian looked up from where he was tying a pirate’s hands while resting his knee on the man’s back. “Go! I’ll come as soon as I can!”
Duncan was already running. He jumped over a pair of men grappling on the ground and shoved a couple of others out of his way as he left the camp.
Duncan’s heart seemed to pound in time to his steps as he raced the half mile back to where he had left Moira and Ragnall. Though he had chosen two of his best warriors to guard them, he could not shake the feeling that he had left them exposed and vulnerable. As he ran, he prayed to every saint he could think of to protect them, and then he called on the faeries as well.
* * *
Erik was a patient man. He waited until he was certain the MacDonald warriors would have reached the point and be engaged in battle so that they would not hear any screams or shouts for help.
He fixed his gaze on the dark-haired lass and her son, who sat on a blanket leaning into each other and talking. Duncan MacDonald had made a grave mistake. Such a fine warrior should know that attachments to women and children make a man vulnerable. Erik would see to it that Duncan paid dearly for his weakness.
All the MacDonalds would pay. Erik would use the beautiful, dark-haired lass and her son to get back what belonged to him. And then he’d kill them slowly so that the knowledge of how they died would torture Duncan MacDonald for the rest of his days.
* * *
Moira sighed with happiness and smiled down at her son as she brushed his unruly red locks back from his forehead.
“I can’t wait to see Sàr again,” Ragnall said and rested his head against her.
“I brought him here with me,” she said. “He must have run off chasing a deer, but he’ll be back soon.”
In all the excitement, she had not noticed that the wolfhound had disappeared. That was odd. Though Sàr frequently went off alone, he had a keen sense of danger. She was surprised he had left her side with the pirates nearby.
“Get behind us!”
The shout of one of their guards startled Moira. She spun around and gasped when she saw a tall, heavily muscled warrior coming toward them with his claymore in his hands. The strange warrior carried himself like a man who was a formidable fighter and knew it. Though his hair was graying, his stomach was flat and the corded muscles of his arms and neck flexed as he swung the claymore from side to side.
But it was not his size that made Moira’s mouth go dry so much as his eyes. They were hard and cold—and exactly as she imagined Duncan’s looked when he fought an enemy. He held her gaze, as if the two warriors who stood between them were of no concern to him. Moira pulled her son closer.
“That’s Erik MacLeod,” Ragnall said under his breath.
Duncan’s father.
Erik moved so quickly that Moira did not even see his blade strike one of their guards, but suddenly the MacDonald warrior crumpled at her feet. When she looked down at his empty eyes and saw the blood seeping between his lips, she finally screamed.