Highland Thief Read online

  One of the groups had upwards of fifty men. They hid behind a thick prickly bush to avoid being seen. Kerr had his sword in hand and his dagger clenched between his teeth, ready to fight. One young soldier stopped to pick some berries and almost lost his life because of it.

  When it was safe, they continued on, always keeping the creek on their left but staying away from the bank.

  “Are they heading toward the loch too?” she whispered. “Will they have a boat there?”

  “Nay, I doona think so. They’d need several big ships to get them across, and that would draw too much attention. They’ll ride to the end of the loch, and from there, head straight toward Clan MacAlister.”

  “How will they get through your borders?”

  “They’ll have a way. Same as they snuck through Callum’s borders last year and through your borders in the spring.”

  “And they were defeated both times. And before that, against Darach and Lachlan. We’ll defeat them this time too, Kerr.”

  “Aye, lass. I promised you a clan to lead by my side. I willna be losing it now. And I willna leave our people at risk.”

  She squeezed the hand he rested on her waist. “Nay, we will not.”

  ***

  Isobel could smell the loch and knew they were close to the beach.

  Thank God!

  As deathly afraid of the water as she was, she couldn’t wait to get on the boat and away from their enemy. She would worry about drowning once they were out of range of any arrows or daggers like the one Kerr currently held in his fist. She knew they’d be vulnerable once they reached the beach, and she prayed they’d be able to find the boat easily.

  A fine tremor ran through Diabhla, and she leaned forward and stroked her hand along his neck, trying to calm him. She understood how he felt. Behind her, Kerr stiffened, and he tugged on the reins so the stallion veered into a copse of birch trees.

  “Shhhhhh,” he whispered to her.

  Not again!

  She closed her eyes and swallowed. Never again would she bemoan the fact that she hadn’t been trained to fight. Swords and knives flying at her head in real life wasn’t nearly as exciting as it was when she imagined it happening on some great adventure.

  She heard horses approaching and then a twig snap. Lifting her lids, she squinted through her lashes toward the trail. Kerr had warned her that if he was forced to fight, she would have to dismount. As much as she wanted to hide away, she needed to see what was happening in case she had to get down in a hurry.

  Four burly warriors on sturdy horses were passing their copse about fifteen paces away, and she squeezed her lips together to stop a fearful squeak from escaping. If any of them were to glance in their direction, surely they would be seen. The cluster of birch had small gaps between the trees, and while the huge stallion blended into the shadows, it was now midday and the sun was bright.

  One of the other horses swiveled its ears and then turned its head toward them. It let out a nicker. Unlike Kerr, its rider ignored the warning.

  Happily, Diabhla did not respond.

  Kerr had been focused and abrupt since they’d been on the run, and while his attitude and demeanor—his intensity—had irked and even scared her in the past, in the face of real danger she found it comforting.

  She knew that this man, her almost-husband—although she planned to argue that fact when the time was right—would keep her alive. The fact that he’d tricked her into handfasting him under questionable circumstances could be sorted out when they were safe.

  The last rider was almost past them when a bird trilled above their heads. Kerr tensed even further when the grim-looking warrior glanced up at the sound. After a moment, he dropped his gaze down again, but then realization hit, and he spun his head back toward them, eyes wide. Kerr’s dagger quickly lodged itself into his forehead, knocking the man backward.

  Before he even hit the ground, another dagger pierced the rider in front of him in the side of the neck. That man let out a strangled yelp as he fell, blood squirting out from the wound and alerting the two men ahead of him to the danger. Kerr’s third dagger missed by inches as his next target spun around.

  Isobel found herself dislodged from Diabhla without even a warning. She landed on her feet and took several unsteady steps back as the stallion leapt past her through the trees. Kerr was leaning forward, his claymore raised in one hand and his body poised for battle.

  His huge sword was a perfect fit for such a massive warrior.

  He charged toward the two remaining soldiers. One of the horses reared back and almost dislodged its rider. When the horse came back down, Kerr thrust upward with his sword and pierced through the man’s body before he had a chance to regain his balance.

  The last warrior turned and spurred his horse away from the fight. Kerr leaned over and pulled his still-vibrating dagger from the tree it had landed in moments ago and flung it at the retreating soldier. The blade hit the man squarely in the back, and the last of their enemy fell.

  The sudden silence was deafening, and Isobel stared at the scene of blood and carnage in shock. Like before, once the conflict had started, the men had died at Kerr’s hand in moments—all four of them.

  She took a deep breath, and then another, wanting to stay strong for him, to show the same kind of clarity and resolve as he had shown. He knew what had to be done to keep her safe, and he was doing it.

  And she wanted to be…worthy of him.

  Aye, this man, this laird and warrior, had only one thing in mind—to protect her, to protect his clan, and to protect his friends and family. And he succeeded…every…single…time.

  He was deadly…yet magnificent.

  How did I not see this before?

  “Isobel, come,” he said curtly, his sword hilt already poking up from behind his shoulder. “We have to keep moving.”

  He retrieved his daggers from the first two men who had died, wiped them on a patch of grass, and then re-sheathed them along each arm. She tried to step forward, but her knees had weakened, and she didn’t think she could walk. Her chin wobbled at her helplessness, and she hugged the tree for support.

  God’s blood, she was back to feeling useless, when yesterday she’d felt invincible!

  He didn’t say a word as he rode back to her, lifted her into place, and then cantered Diabhla to the last man killed, so he could draw his dagger and sheath it at his waist.

  “’Twas necessary to kill him,” he said gruffly, as if forcing out the words. “He would have brought more men down upon us, aye?”

  She nodded, and then had to swallow before speaking. “Is that the end of it?”

  He directed Diabhla off the trail again and kept going before answering. “I doona know. I suspect there will be men on the beach waiting for us. We’ll need to lay low and watch for a while, try to spot where Eirik might have hidden the boat and then…”

  “And then what?” she croaked, but she knew what he was going to say.

  “Kill as many men as I can so we can get to the boat unencumbered. Once I decide ’tis time to go, we’ll need to move quickly.”

  She nodded, feeling a heaviness come over her. Or maybe she just stopped trying to fight it. She slumped against him, and his arm tightened around her waist. “You willna be harmed, Isobel. Ever.” He said it fiercely, like a savage warrior of old…and she knew it to be true.

  But if something happened, and he did die here today, she would rather die with him than go with the men responsible.

  “Kerr.” She said his name softly, not wanting to alert the enemy, but also because she felt vulnerable—physically and emotionally. But this time she allowed herself to stay with the feelings instead of pushing them down.

  “Aye?”

  “You ne’er doubted me.”

  “Of course not…about what?”

  Her heart squeezed. He
didn’t even need to think about it. Or know what exactly they were talking about. His actions had shown his true estimation of her.

  And revealed his true estimation to her.

  “That the man had scars on his arm and hand. You ne’er doubted I’d seen them even though he wasn’t one of the dead men at the lean-to. Or that I could get down from that tree without being seen. You left me to crawl out of sight in time and stay out of sight without falling, believing I could do it.”

  “Aye.”

  He sounded a little confused, as if he didn’t understand why she was even bringing it up, and that made her heart squeeze a little more.

  “It means a great deal to me. Thank you.” This time her voice was even softer.

  “Always, Isobel.”

  He stopped and slipped off Diabhla. Then he gave her his hand to help her down. She could see the loch through the break in the trees ahead, and she followed his lead, creeping forward carefully.

  At the edge of the bluff, he lay on his belly. She did, too, and peered through the foliage. The creek they’d been following flowed out into the loch about twenty paces to their left. To her surprise, she couldn’t see any men on the beach, and relief flowed through her.

  Now they just had to find the boat!

  She turned to him, a wide, excited smile on her face, but he was peering at the sandy beach with a pensive expression. Her smile dipped, and she looked back, trying to understand what he was seeing—or wasn’t seeing.

  “Did you expect to find men here?” she whispered.

  He half shrugged. “Not exactly. The smart thing for them to do would be to stay hidden and draw us out. And if the man who grabbed you is who I think he is, he has proven himself more than smart over the last few years—also shrewd and careful. We canna underestimate him.”

  He curled his fingers into circles, and then stacked his hands together like a telescope. With one eye closed, he looked through the tunnel at the beach. “I doona see him, but he’s there. It’s where I would be if I were him. He will have assumed we have a boat, and he’s sent men out to look for it.” He pointed to the side of the beach that stretched out on the other side of the creek from them. “My guess is he started searching at the opposite end from where we are. He thinks we came from the south—which we would have done if we’d landed here instead of where we did. Luck may be on our side this time.”

  “Which means…we’re going over there?” She pointed her thumb in the opposite direction.

  He nodded. “Eirik and Siv were coming from the north. I think he will have stashed the boat at the end of the beach on this side for a quicker escape. ’Tis more strategic.”

  “And what you would have done.”

  “Aye.”

  He crawled backward, and then rose to a crouch and continued searching the trees, returning periodically to peek over the edge at the beach. Isobel searched too, but other than seeing the actual boat, she didn’t know what she was looking for. She wasn’t sure she was helping at all.

  Diabhla followed them sedately, content to munch on whatever patch of grass he found. Isobel suspected he didn’t feel at all useless—not like she did.

  When they reached the end of the beach and there was nowhere else to look, Kerr rubbed the back of his neck in frustration. “It must be on the other side of the creek.”

  She looked deeper into the woods. “Why couldn’t he have hidden it farther in?”

  “It’s a small longship, Izzy. Made for crossing the North Sea. It will be heavy. He wouldnae have pulled it farther than he had to.”

  “How far would you have pulled it?” she asked.

  His brow puckered a little, but he looked to the beach and then walked a few paces inland from where they were standing. And then a few more. “Up to about here, I guess.”

  “Eirik is bigger than you. Stronger than you too, I’d wager.” He winced a little, and she rushed ahead, reassuring him. “Only a wee bit. But how much farther than you do you think he could have pulled the boat?”

  His eyes grew thoughtful, and he nodded. He stepped farther into the woods, and then kept going. When he stopped, he stood about twenty paces away.

  “Izzy,” he called her name softly.

  She hurried forward. He was staring at a fallen tree and a clump of branches. He reached down and pulled away an armful of twigs and leaves. Underneath, a flat, carved piece of wood stuck out.

  “What is that?” she asked.

  He rubbed his palm over the wood, and then traced the sanded edges with his fingers. A small, satisfied smile curved his lips. “A rudder.” Then he turned to her and kissed her—brief and hard on the lips. “And I wouldnae have found it without you.”

  Twenty

  “How are we going to get it back to him?” Isobel asked as she dragged a huge branch off the longship.

  Kerr looked up from the dragon head he’d been studying at the bow of the ship and found himself hard-pressed not to smile. For a moment, he forgot the danger they were in and just stared at her. She had dirt smeared on her face, a tear in her arisaid, and dead leaves caught in her hair, which was a tangled mess.

  She’d never looked more beautiful to him.

  If only the lasses who’d been vying for his attention all these years had known the way to his heart wasn’t through fine clothes, coquettish looks, and pretty curled locks. Nay, he’d trade those any day for a lass with a keen wit, an impertinent tongue, and a desire to see him covered in manure.

  “I’m not sure,” he responded, and then rubbed his chest to ease a twinge of guilt that had lodged there. “I’ll have someone return it once we’re back. Hopefully Eirik won’t have come looking for it in the meantime and found it stolen.”

  He grabbed the gunwale, heaved the vessel onto its keel with a grunt, and then let out a soft whistle as he admired its craftsmanship. The man was an explorer, a warrior, and a master ship builder.

  A mast with a sail wrapped around it was secured down the center of the hull. Four oars were tucked down beside it. He pulled two loose and fitted them through the oar ports for later.

  He inspected the heavy mast, which was on a hinge and could be easily mounted upright again if needed. He wondered about detaching it entirely to lighten the boat, but it looked like he would need special tools. Besides, it was one thing to steal a man’s ship, another to take it apart.

  Eirik might never forgive him.

  “Can you leave him some money for it?” Isobel asked as she removed some debris that had fallen into the boat.

  He’d been pondering that very question. He had more than enough money and jewels on him to cover the cost, but he suspected if Eirik were here, the Norseman would refuse to take it.

  Good thing he wasn’t here.

  “Aye, love, I will. A lot of it. And I’ll leave a note too.” He reached into his sporran and pulled out a sack of gold—a goodly price for the boat. He didn’t know if Eirik could read, so instead he took out something else and added it to the purse—a curled lock of white-blond hair secured with a blue ribbon. If his brothers had known he carried a part of Isobel with him, he would never have heard the end of it.

  He dropped the coin purse to the ground and laid a few twigs over it. Eirik would find it.

  “How are we going to move it?” Isobel asked, and he looked up to see her eyeing the boat worriedly.

  And no wonder. The longship was about three times the size of the skiff they’d rowed across, and solidly built—it would have to be to make it safely across the North Sea.

  He lowered it back to the forest floor, moved to Diabhla, and fished a long rope out of his pack. “Diabhla is going to pull, I will push, and you will guide it as best you can. There’s a path, of sorts, from when Eirik first pulled the ship up. Rocks have been cleared and stumps removed. The hardest part will be getting it over the lip at the edge and onto the beach, but once we
’re there, the sand will make it easier.”

  If we aren’t under attack.

  He was sure that as soon as they appeared on the beach, a cry would go up. They would need speed to get to the water as quickly as possible. That was their only escape. Two of the enemy’s archers were down. He hoped they didn’t have more.

  He turned the rope into a harness and secured it around Diabhla’s chest and back. Isobel watched him closely. Her fingers moved unconsciously as he looped and pulled the heavy cord. Then he ran the length of it back to the boat and attached it to a metal ring on the prow.

  They were ready, and his gut felt as knotted as the rope he’d just tied.

  “Which side do you want me on?” Isobel asked as she tucked her skirts up between her legs again.

  He couldn’t answer. His jaws felt soldered together. What if he was making a mistake? Maybe he should hide here with her for a few days until the soldiers had passed.

  It would be too late for his clan by then, but he would know for sure that Isobel was safe.

  She looked at him closely. “You’re worried.”

  “Aye. If something should happen to you…”

  “It willna. You said I wouldnae be harmed. I believe you.”

  He groaned and shoved his hands through his hair. “But what if I’m wrong?”

  She stepped toward him and leaned against his body, toes to toes, chest to chest, and wrapped her arms around his back. Turning her head, she rested her cheek above his heart. He sighed and wrapped his arms around her too.

  “It’s a chance we have to take. If I am to lead your people, you canna sacrifice them for me. ’Tis the other way around. You either leave me here to fend for myself and go save them, or we go together. I’ll not have it any other way.” She raised her head and held his gaze. “I will be worthy of them, Kerr.”

  His throat was so tight he couldn’t speak. If the enemy didn’t know she was with him, he might consider leaving her. But they did know, and they would search until they found her.