Chapter Eleven

Gavin was glad the rain had been replaced by a brisk wind. His clothes were finally dry enough that he and his men were a bit more comfortable as they continued riding along the shoreline. So far it had been another fruitless day of searching for the damn Mackenzies. No bìrlinns had been sighted leaving, which meant they'd either remained hidden, or had somehow managed to escape on land.

"Unless they can fly, they must be here somewhere," Knox said while scanning the surroundings. "There are too many of them to hide in one place."

At last count it was at least fifty men who'd survived the last attack.

"Why Skye?" Gavin asked no one in particular. "I can understand the upper Hebrides, or northern Scotland."

Knox shrugged. "They thought it would be easy. Probably still think this land should be theirs. We are nae heavily populated and until recently had no real guard to defend us."

"I suppose in a way, the Mackinnon did us some good," Gavin replied ruefully. Referring to the fact that after fighting the MacKinnons, they'd recruited men from Uist to join the guard force on Skye.

A picture of Freya's despondent expression formed, and he closed his eyes. She'd looked so pitiful lying on the floor naked and sobbing. He never wished to see her like that again.

He'd been unable to leave her there and had lifted her to the bed. The urge to cradle her and soothe the woman until she stopped crying had been so strong that he'd almost climbed into the bed.

Somehow, he'd managed to keep a distance, the only way to maintain perspective. She was betrothed. Belonged to another and had not told him.

Whatever her reasons for leaving, that she'd not been honest was what mattered most. He suspected it was not a match she'd desired and had somehow convinced her brother to take her away. Although her explanation made sense, Freya's leaving her home had caused her brother's death.

A part of him wanted to return to her and ask for a full explanation, but he knew it was best to stay away. Her presence could potentially bring his clan more conflict. It was the last thing they needed.

Knox rode up alongside. "Scouts return." Both watched as two riders came closer. By their lack of expression, they'd not found anything of use.

"News?" Gavin asked dispassionately.

"Nothing. No one has seen anything," one of the horsemen replied. "As if the earth swallowed them."

The second scout motioned past him with his head. "A shepherd was attacked by a group of men. He survived long enough to tell his family the men who attacked him were MacKinnons."

Gavin wanted to scream in frustration. Instead, he dismounted and walked toward the shoreline.

What was happening? They were fighting two enemies and were not close to catching either. As frustrating as it was, he knew they had to concentrate on the bigger threat.

Both scouts rode off toward the Keep Ross, to inform Alexander of the latest news.

"We will nae find anyone along the shoreline," Gavin said watching as his men emerged from a group of cottages finding them empty. Most of the people who lived there had sought the safety of the keep.

Knox rode to him. "Let us go in the direction the scouts came from. If it was the same men who attacked, they've become bolder and are more inland."

It was a short while before they came to a heavily forested area. They slowed to allow Knox to take lead and search for any sign of travelers. When he motioned them forward they continued into the trees.

Six men would not make themselves known to a contingency of warriors, but at the same time it was best not to take chances.

The wind whistled through the branches as they continued in silence, the only sounds were the rustling of branches as the horses rode past.

Then suddenly a soft whistle was heard, followed by several arrows whooshing past. One Ross warrior fell from his horse, the rest immediately lifted their shields. A couple of Ross men had arrows protruding from their bodies but remained upright.

At first it was hard to tell where they came from until Gavin saw several men in the trees.

He was surrounded by shielded men as he set an arrow in the bow, pulled back, and released through a small opening.

A direct hit from the sound of the man yelling then falling to his death.

They'd only three archers against however many there were in the trees.

The arrows continued to rain down. On the ground they were at a disadvantage. At the same time, now that they knew where the Mackenzies were it would be easier to flush them out.

Once past the tree line and out of the archer's range, they would keep watch to ensure the men would not leave the area without being seen. A scout was dispatched to the keep. Those wounded, if capable, were also dispatched back to the keep. That left only ten warriors including Gavin.

"Go with them," Knox said with a worried look. "Go back to the keep."

At first Gavin didn't understand. "Ye speak nonsense. We are outnumbered until more warriors come."

When Knox looked to his side, he followed his cousin's line of sight to where an arrow protruded from the left side of his torso. In response to the awareness, it was then that trails of pain seared through him, and Gavin gasped.

"If ye would have stayed quiet," he groused flinching at the throbs of pain.

"I doubt I can ride back," he admitted. "Help me down, I can still shoot."

With a worried expression, his cousin took hold of the reins of Gavin's horse and pulled him to the side of a hill.

His breathing was becoming labored, each breath bringing stabs of pain. He groaned and attempted to take more shallow breaths.

Gavin swung his leg over the saddle and allowed Knox to help him from the horse. Then he lowered to the ground, doing his best not to jostle the arrow. If he guessed correctly, it was almost all the way through. However, pushing it out could bring blood loss and he couldn't afford it at the moment.

"Break off the end so that it does nae stick out so far."

Without hesitation, Knox bent and broke the arrow. Gavin held back a cry at the pain, not wanting to expand his body and cause more damage.

"We best prepare, they will come after us as soon as they climb down from the trees," Knox said walking toward the other men.

There were only nine Ross men left without him. If Gavin were to guess, there had to be almost double in the trees.

Pain or no pain, he had to help. Peering up to the top of the hill, he decided it would be an advantage to be higher.

"Knox!" he called out and his cousin turned. "Tell the other archers to come. We will fight from atop the hill."

Two archers ran over, slung their quivers and bows over their shoulders, then taking Gavin under the arms as he clutched his items, they dragged him up to the top of the hill.

Pain shot through his body, and Gavin cursed under his breath. "I do wish to be alive to help."

The men gave him apologetic looks. He understood. It was best to be prepared because the men in the forest were well aware of their current advantage in numbers. However, the Mackenzie men didn't have horses.

Understanding reinforcements would soon arrive, men emerged from the forest, shields up rushing at the Ross warriors.

It was hard to aim because the men moved constantly while fighting. Gavin and the other two archers didn't want to take the chance and strike a horse or one of their men by mistake.

The Mackenzies fought savagely. When a horse fell from a strike to his leg, Gavin pulled back his arrow intent on killing the man. Thankfully, his arrow struck true, and the man collapsed next to the fallen horse.

The Ross men were at a disadvantage when one was felled. The two archers dropped their bows and quivers, unsheathed their swords and raced to help.

Although outnumbered, the Ross warriors held their own fighting back-to-back. Gavin concentrated on the battle, ignoring the pain. He pulled arrows and shot when he had a clear view. It was becoming harder to keep his strength up.

Choosing a particularly large man who carelessly lowered his shield as he sliced across the air with a huge sword, Gavin pulled back the string, holding it taunt waiting for the precise moment.

The man roared and charged toward one of the archers, praying the archer did not move to the right, Gavin loosed the arrow. It struck straight into the larger man's chest, and he looked down in shock.

Instead of collapsing, he continued charging. Gavin loosed a second arrow, this one striking the left side of the man's chest. The man hesitated for a moment, then took another step before falling forward.

The numbers were equalizing, and the Mackenzies seemed to realize it because they called retreat.

They came to their lands. Attacked their people. The Ross warriors would not let them escape.

With each pull of the bow's string, his body protested. Gavin tightened his muscles in an attempt to keep his trembling body steady enough to aim.

Just then a Ross warrior collapsed, his opponent rushed toward him, sword lifted. he managed to pull the string back one more time.

Gavin took a deep breath and shot. The arrow struck the man in the lower portion of his chest, and he stumbled backward. It was enough of a distraction for another Ross warrior to cut him down.

His vision blurred as he notched another arrow. Blinking fast, he tried to focus on another fighter. Swaying slightly, Gavin's arms trembled. It would be dangerous to try again, but he would not give up, not until every single one of the attackers fell.

He took a shallow breath, pain searing down his side and once again tried to concentrate on the battle below. His legs went out from beneath him, and the arrow flew up into the sky as he toppled sideways.

"Gavin." A deep voice pulled him from a dark haze. But it proved impossible to respond. There was no pain, just a comfortable abyss and he didn't have any desire to leave.

"Do ye hear me?" the same voice asked, and he wanted to tell whoever it was to be quiet. The darkness seemed to pull him deeper, and he welcomed it.

Gavin wasn't sure how much time passed until the same deep voice spoke again. It was close now, as if in his mind. "Brother. Ye must wake."

Brother? The word was familiar. The voice as well. But it didn't make sense. The only thing he wanted was to remain in the darkness and not emerge. Ever.

Jostling was startling. "Wake up," the same deep voice insisted.

This time, he recognized it. "Alex?" He tried to say it aloud, but his voice was like air.

"Gavin," the voice said. "Open yer eyes."

The darkness seemed to evaporate. Little by little until it remained like a fog on the edges. Gavin opened his eyes and was immediately doused by brightness. He covered his face with both hands.

"Close the shutters," his mother ordered and instantly the room dimmed so that opening his eyes became bearable.

"Is everyone well?" he asked in a hoarse voice. "Knox?"

"He is alive and well. Was injured, but recovered quicker than ye," Alexander said, looming over him. "Ye gave us quite a scare," he scolded as if it was Gavin's fault.

His mother grabbed his hand. "I am so glad ye awakened." His mother's face was taut with worry. "It has been days."

A cup of ale was brought, and his brother helped him to drink. He drank greedily. "How many days?"

"Three," Alex replied.

"The Mackenzies?"

"The ones who survived the last battle left in boats."

"The damsel awakens," Cynden said strolling in with his usual scowl.

Gavin narrowed his eyes at his younger brother. "What are ye doing here. Should ye nae be getting yer hair braided."

The comment made Alex and his mother chuckle. "I think he will be fine," his mother said stroking his hair and then kissing his brow. "My sweet lad."

The healer walked in with Freya right behind him carrying a pot of water and cloths. "I must see to his wound."

Freya kept her gaze down, not noticing Alex's icy regard. His brother was obviously not pleased to see her, but he kept silent.

"I must see to yer wound," the healer stated.

Everyone but his mother left the room.