Chapter 9

Chapter 9

A few minutes before…

The wild winds of the Highlands whipped feverishly through the tunneled out muddy road from the McFerguson lands. The hollowed out strip of muddy road that led through the thick and majestic forests between villages was barren and quiet. Lachlan had traveled that road more times than he could count, yet there was something in the air that day, something that didn't sit quite right with him. There was a feeling of discomfort, like the stillness of the rolling Highland hills before two sides of a battle arrived.

With the death of the girl's uncle, Lachlan knew that travel would be lighter. With a man like Bram taking the reins, those in surrounding clans would be holding their breaths, waiting to see what path he would take. The McMillan clan was not the largest in the Highlands, but it held an enormous guard, more than that parcel of land and clan would really ever need. When the girls' uncle was in the high seat, he grew the guard, raising the numbers to three times as many as his brother had. He took in those without a clan, he offered lands and family wealth for large swaths of men to join his guard.

Lachlan could remember the whispers of the older men when Blair's father was killed. They worried the uncle was growing the numbers to begin attacking other clans, collecting lands to build his place within the Highlands. However, it didn't take the other leaders long to realize that he was a rather stark man, but he was not greedy. His guard grew out of his own impossible fears, buried deep within his chest, born there when his brother had tried to kill the Laird's only son, Bram. Lachlan usually had little opinion of the actions of other men, knowing that deep down any man was capable of things most didn't speak of. However, knowing the mindset of Bram, he wished that Blair's father had been successful in his attempt. He was the kind of Laird that would destroy his people and leave the lands in ruin by the end of it.

Lachlan sighed, bringing Stormcloud to a stop. With his eyes shifting all around, he knew he couldn't continue down the road. Blair had told him the only place her sisters knew of outside of their own keep were the Pale Forests, and not because they had traveled to them before. The mystical story of the wise-woman had been read by the 2nd oldest, Jocelyn, and they would do anything to feel some control over where they were, including searching a thick and dangerous forest for a woman no one even knew was still alive.

The forest was beautiful, almost too lively and bright for a man like Lachlan to trust it. Then again, he didn't trust much, and for good reason. He was a spy, a tracker, a man that stayed no more than a month in one spot before circling back through his resting places. He was the one they called to do the dirty work, to find the criminals and non criminals. Normally, a job like that wouldn't be on Lachlan's radar, but he did it for James. He had worked for James' older brother for far too long, and was thankful that James had come back and taken control of the clan. He thought very highly of James, and was one of the few people that knew why he had to leave before.

Leading the horse off the road and into the woods, Lachlan knew he would have to leave his trusted steed behind at some point and set out on foot. So, he went as long as he could, and when the bark of the trees began to shift from brown to pale white, he dismounted and tied his horse to the tree. Walking around him, he pressed his forehead to its nuzzling snout.

"I'll be back soon, old friend," he whispered. "Anyone comes close, ye kick 'em like I showed ye."

Stormcloud whinnied and Lachlan patted him one more time before quietly shifting forward. He slid between shadow and tree, pausing here and there to listen for any sounds of humans. He was close to giving up and heading back to his steed, when the sound of laughing men echoed in front of him. It was odd for him to be that deep in the forest so it was definitely strange for a group of men to be out there. Lachlan picked up the pace, moving closer and closer to the sound. As he crested the hill, he quickly moved back, ducking within the closely packed trees around him.

The six men were attempting a stealth movement forward, though most of them were clumsy and not trained for something like that. They all stopped and stood around a pile of burnt branches and ash. Even from there, Lachlan could tell that whoever had lit that fire had left days and days ago, meaning it couldn't have been the girls. However, it wasn't so obvious to the men below who took more time than Lachlan liked to come to a similar conclusion. The man that seemed to be their leader, a tall gangly man with rotting teeth, waved them on.

"Come on ye shites, there's some water right through here," he yelled.

Almost immediately, Lachlan shifted off the hill and made his way quickly around, using low hanging branches to move forward as fast as he could without making a sound. As he crossed over the brook, he paused, finding a beautiful woman standing at the brooke's edge, her skin bright like porcelain, her top loosened, and water glistening from her skin as it ran down beneath the hem of her dressing gown top. If it weren't for the sudden laughter of what he knew to be McMillan's men, he wouldn't have been able to climb up and over the ledge, hiding himself in the trees.

As Lachlan raced away from the beautiful woman, the sun from overhead casted from a piece of jewelry around her neck. For a split second, he paused, cataloging the familiar locket in his mind before hiding once again. From the description Blair had given Lachlan of her sisters, and the locket that Blair was wearing when he first met her with James, he knew she had to be one of the sisters, most likely the older one, Jocelyn.

Lachlan counted three horses tied to the trees, and from the sounds of three female voices by the brooke, there was a good chance all of the sisters were there. He knew the space below was small, giving very little room to move. As he tried to move, the leader emerged from below, immediately turning and looking down toward the brook. He tapped his foot impatiently and reached down, grabbing the hand of a young girl, and hoisting her up, holding her tightly as one of his men climbed up and grabbed her, putting a knife to her throat.

Instantly Lachlan realized he must have missed the other two girls as he was coming around, and now, the McMillan brutes had them. There was a bit of commotion, a sound of someone falling.

The leader of the group paced back and forth between them, nodding at the two other men who joined them. Lachlan counted six in total, a number that didn't strike any sort of fear in his heart. He had taken down more men than that before, and left without a single scratch. This was different though, there was more to keep alive than just himself. He wasn't really the guy they called when they had a rescue mission. There he was, though, and he couldn't turn back. James and Blair had entrusted him to bring the girls home, and he knew that meant in one piece, not ready for burial.

"Ye ken, I never did get much of a chance tae prove meself under yer uncle. But yer cousin, he's a true Scot. He takes it back tae a time where men were revered, women did what they were told, and the kind o' shit yer sister pulled would have gotten her a beheadin' after the men did what they wanted with her. When I bring the three of ye back, he won't kill ye right away," the leader said, bringing James' attention back.

Jocelyn snarled. "Oh, aye? What's he waitin' fer? Some torture? He cannae hurt us anymore."

The leader snickered. "Dinnae ye worry little wolf, there will be plenty of torture fer ye. But you'll have tae wait until Laird takes McFerguson's clan and brings yer sister back where she belongs, right next tae the three of ye."

Lachlan smirked at the way the girls didn't hold back. Even the youngest, Deirdre was like fire. Deirdre scoffed through her sobs. "Bram will never be strong enough tae take our sister and her husband. He's just a spoiled brat, and his father kenned that. That's why he killed him."

The leader swung toward Deirdre and Lachlan gripped the hilt of his knife watching as both Aoife and Jocelyn struggled, wildly thrashing as they attempted to save their little sister. The leader pressed the tip of his knife to Deirdre's cheek, drawing a small bit of blood. Lachlan could see her fists ball in anger. He gritted his teeth, now hell bent on giving those men everything they deserved.

"Wee one's got some fight in her," the leader laughed. "Tiny lass, yer uncle was killed by his mistress. She poisoned him right there in nothin' but her bare skin."

Lachlan realized his window was closing and he needed to make a move. He began to move closer, shifting in and out of the shadows, crouching and pausing so as to not draw attention to himself. As he raced from one tree to the next, he looked over at the girls, his eyes immediately meeting Jocelyn's. His heart fluttered wildly in his chest, and for a moment he had a hard time catching his own breath. Ducking down, he put his fingers to his lips. As her eyes shifted, he tucked behind the tree, wondering if she had actually seen him.

Overhead, clouds rolled in and thunder rumbled in the distance as if the Gods themselves were angered. The trees began to sway, the branches twisting forward and back, which was even better for Lachlan as it would cover any sound he may accidentally make. He sat there for just a moment, his back pressed to the tree, wondering if Jocelyn had seen him and understood, or possibly she had figured he was just another man trying to harm them.

Suddenly, from above, thunder boomed and the horses began to shift and winnie nervously. Lachlan peeked around the tree, watching Jocelyn's eyes shift from the horses, to her sisters, and back to the men. He knew exactly what she was thinking. Looking up, large droplets of water splattered from above, across his face.

With natural force, the thunder clapped even louder, and lightning shot across the sky above the canopy. The horses spooked, rearing on their hind legs. The wind whipped wild, and the men tripped back away from the horses who pulled and kicked to be free. Lachlan could see his chance unfolding. He just hoped they didn't shift their attention too fast.

Amongst the chaos, Jocelyn began to scream, thrashing her body back and forth, kicking at the leaves around her as her captor held tightly. A moment later Aoife began to do the same, grabbing all of the attention off of where Lachlan was, letting him swiftly move into place. When the thunder rumbled again, Lachlan moved, rushing across the leaves and twigs, rolling up behind the guard holding the youngest. She needed the most help, and Lachlan could tell that the oldest could hold her own.

With a flash of lightning, Lachlan stood and sliced the neck of the guard. Before anyone noticed he spun around, throwing his daggers straight at the extra two men, their bodies falling backward and down the embankment. With that, Lachlan backed up a bit into the wild vines, hiding himself.

The chaos continued for several moments until finally the leader stomped over and untied the horses, letting them jet off into the woods. The flustered enemy rolled his eyes, his face red, his jaw clenched, and his forehead scrunched tightly together.

"Knock that off," he yelled, rushing up to Aoife who continued. "I said," the leader roared, punching Aoife right in the stomach. "Shut it."

Jocelyn quieted as Aoife doubled forward with a grunt. Lachlan flinched, knowing that one had to have hurt. The leader sighed and nodded, turning toward Deirdre. "Now, why dinnae we start with…"

His man, the big bad guardsman who couldn't even handle a child, was in a crumpled pile on the ground, his throat cut, blood spilling out into dried leaves below. Lachlan heard a sound, oddly coming from above him. Looking up quickly, he saw the bottoms of a small girl's feet, moving quickly through the trees. Lachlan smirked and nodded, knowing he had to keep moving. There were three down, and three to go. He just had to ensure none of the girls were counted into that body count by the end of it.

From the moment they realized someone had killed their men, to the moment that Lachlan raced through the trees, sliding face first into the man holding Jocelyn, chaos had ensued. Aoife was screaming for Deirdre, trying to get free of her captor. Lachlan grabbed the guard holding Jocelyn and swung around onto his back. He hopped up, digging his knees into the guard's shoulders as he gripped the man's head and swiftly snapped his neck. As he did, Jocelyn yelled out.

The guard, in an attempt to free himself, had dug his knife into Jocelyn's shoulder. She fell with the guard, gasping as she fell backward. Lachlan reached out and gripped her behind her neck before her head could hit the ground. He carefully lifted her up to a seated position, pulling the front of her dressing gown closed. The men had done a number on the girls, and she didn't need to worry about her modesty too. For a moment, their eyes locked again, only that time, it felt as if the entire world had stopped around them. He sunk into her beautiful gaze, feeling a strange heat rising on his chest. It wasn't until a warm trickle of blood hit his other hand that he pulled himself out of it, looking down at her shoulder.

She hissed at the wound as Lachlan pulled a sash from around his waist and pressed it to her arm. Jocelyn groaned at the pain and Lachlan fumbled, not used to dealing with an injured woman, especially not one who had the kind of effect Jocelyn had on him. "I…ye're bleeding."

With sweat peppering her head, Jocelyn's eyes shifted up to his. Her brow furled and she grabbed the front of Lachlan's shirt, gritting through the pain. "I'm…fine. Me sister…Aoife. Go get her. They ran off with her."

Lachlan suddenly snapped out of whatever trance he had been in and looked around, realizing they were all alone. In the distance he could hear the ruffling of leaves and the squeals of Aoife. The remaining guards must have run when they realized they were being ambushed.

The youngest of the sisters ran up to them, covered in twigs and leaves. "Jocelyn! Ye're bleeding!"

"Shite," Lachlan cursed, turning to Deirdre. "Here, hold this on yer sister's shoulder. Dinnae move from here. I'll come back fer ye. I mean it. Stay right 'ere."

He pressed Deirdre's hand to the wound and raced off into the distance, following the sounds of the crunching leaves. Lachlan pushed through the stinging as small twigs and branches slapped across his skin. He shook his head, not understanding what came over him. Whatever it was, he wouldn't ever let it happen again. Distractions were something he never allowed, and couldn't if he wanted to keep himself alive. His only focus now was making sure he came back to Blair and James with all three sisters. He couldn't let Aoife be taken and he had no idea if there were more men waiting in the forest.

As he ran forward, Lachlan braced himself for anything, holding that sweet stare with Jocelyn, tucked quietly away in the dark parts of his mind. He had to save Aoife for Blair and James, and for Jocelyn.