“Are you two ever going to stop?”
When they reluctantly broke the kiss, Moira saw that Ian was standing beside them and that the two other boats had come to shore.
“Now then,” Ian said, folding his arms, “perhaps Moira can enlighten us regarding how in the hell she came to be here—and why.”
“Niall and I came to warn ye that you’re sailing into a trap,” Moira said. “Hugh has his men hidden just ahead on that point, waiting to ambush ye.”
While Moira went on to explain about Niall, it occurred to her that Duncan would not be returning home unless they had lost the battle for Trotternish Castle. Ach, poor Duncan. He would lay all the blame for the loss on himself.
Then she noticed that one of the galleys was missing. Dear God, how many of their men had perished? Moira looked for her brother among the MacDonald warriors who were now crowding the beach. Tears sprang to her eyes when she did not see him.
“Where is Connor?” She could not make herself ask if her brother had been killed. “Is he hurt?”
“Connor is safe and well,” Duncan said, squeezing her shoulders. “I’ll tell ye all about what happened after we deal with Hugh and his pirates.”
“Is there anything else ye can tell us about this ambush?” Ian said to her.
Moira told them quickly exactly where she had seen Hugh’s men camped and how many she guessed were there.
“Mother!”
Time stopped when Moira heard her son’s voice calling to her. When she turned, she saw Ragnall’s bright copper head leaning over the side of the boat Duncan had sailed in on.
A thighearna bheannaichte!Blessed Lord!
“Don’t jump, I’ll come get ye,” Duncan called, and he trotted back to lift Ragnall out of the boat.
Moira’s knees felt weak as Duncan brought her son to her. Finally, she had Ragnall in her arms.
“Duncan brought ye safe to me,” she said as she held him close. “I missed ye so much!”
“We should go,” Ian said after a moment.
“You and you,” Duncan said, pointing to two warriors. “Stay and protect them with your lives.”
Duncan ruffled Ragnall’s hair, then swept Moira into one more kiss.
Moira held her son’s hand as she watched Duncan lead the MacDonald warriors up the hill. They reminded her of the wolves, running silent and swift through the trees.
Please God, watch over my love. Watch over them all.
* * *
Erik smiled to himself. The big, red-haired warrior had embraced Moira MacDonald as if she were his own bit of heaven. Finally, Erik’s luck had turned.
Ach, revenge would be sweet, indeed.
Chapter 43
Duncan ran through the trees, leaping over rocks and fallen logs, with Ian right behind him, until he neared the place where Moira said Hugh’s men were camped. After waiting for the other men to catch up, he signaled for them to be cautious, then crept forward. Hugh’s pirates were vile, but Duncan did not make the mistake of underestimating their fighting skills.
As soon as he spied the enemy camp, he waved at the men to spread out through the trees. They moved forward in silence, forming a net through which none of their enemy could pass.
Duncan exchanged glances with Ian. When Ian nodded, Duncan raised his claymore high over his head. When he brought it down, the MacDonalds stormed the camp shouting their battle cry, “Fraoch Eilean!”
The pirates scrambled for their weapons. Duncan swung his claymore in swift, powerful strokes and cut them down as they came at him in twos and threes.
While he fought, Duncan noticed a group of men who neither looked nor fought like pirates and worked his way toward them. He knocked the sword out of the hands of one of them and pinned him to the ground.