Chapter Thirty-One

Eli gasped but kept quiet. She wouldn't risk distracting her husband.

Alaric planted his feet and said, "Ye cheating piece of slime."

"Take care of him, Grant!" Torrian shouted.

Alaric growled and raised his sword over his head, coming down on Egan's own raised weapon. The clash rang out, followed by another four rapid clashes of the blades. They attacked and parried back and forth, grunting and repositioning themselves, the crowd cheering him on with each blow. Alaric swung his sword in powerful arcs that would surely destroy anything in its path.

Eli watched her husband move as if his sword were a part of him, every move a rhythmic masterpiece. In such a battle to the death, he would surely prevail. His intensity on his target was impressive to watch.

Fighting, taunting, parrying, thrusting. Her husband was magnificent, the muscles on his back rippling with every powerful move.

He battled with a grace and a force that was unparalleled, but Eli could tell he was playing with the man—teasing him to swing more and more. Egan began to swing wildly, losing his strength and probably sensing it. He changed tactics and reverted to his mouth instead.

"Give her to me. Ye have plenty of lasses." He stopped to pant, glancing up at Eli on the curtain wall. "Or give me another one. I'll let ye have that wise-mouthed bitch and trade her for a sweet one."

"Ye think to insult my wife? Yer comments are a compliment, rather. Ye'll never have her." Alaric taunted. "She is mine."

Eli could kiss him for that comment. Her mother noticed because she squeezed Eli's hand and smiled.

Alaric twirled in a quarter-circle to take him off-guard, then reversed his direction, a move that allowed his blade to catch Egan's leg. First blood.

The crowd roared, but Alaric kept his eyes on his foe. Eli's heart swelled with love for him, and a prayer that he would come through the fight unscathed.

Egan had the nerve to look up at her. "I've a change of mind. I'll keep her. Ye'll be mine soon, lass." Then he formed his lips into a kiss.

Eli almost nocked an arrow, she was so disgusted.

Her husband didn't approve of his move, either, if she were to guess, because his stance shifted into one of even more intense focus. He was done with the taunts and the teases. He was ready to kill.

Alaric swung from the right, then from the left, knocking the man's weapon out of his hands. Egan scrambled to grab it before Alaric could drive his blade into his chest. Wiping the dirt from his hands, he gripped his small sword and snarled at Alaric.

"We just need three archers to train ours. Just let us have them. And in turn, she'll give me bairns with that skill bred into them already. She'll give me all lads, five of them. We'll come back and take over this castle, driving ye out."

Alaric laughed at the man's foolishness.

"I tire of this, Egan. Say yer goodbyes to yer friends. Tell them to leave and take yer body with them."

"Nay, we'll be taking six lasses with us. And I'll take yer lass and make her mine right in front of ye. I thought ye'd like to watch her scream when I bury myself inside her, ripping her apart."

Eli covered her ears, knowing that was the talk that would make Alaric finally end this fight. She knew he played with Egan, taunting and teasing him into thinking he had a chance when everyone there knew he didn't. It was part of the show, if she had to guess. He had an audience unlike any other—Grants, Ramsay, Menzies, Drummonds, Camerons, Mathesons.

Before Alaric could deliver the killing blow, all five of Egan's friends raised their weapons and charged.

Within seconds, Gavin, Gregor, Broc, Alasdair, Alick, Paden, and a few others got into the battle, stopping it before it even started. The fools saw the size of the swords and the number fighting them, and they froze in their tracks. One man mounted his horse and left.

Alaric made his final assault. One thrust from the left, one from the right, then he twirled in a circle, giving the weapon the power he wanted. At the last moment, he changed his mind and turned the hilt enough that he hit Egan's weapon with the flat of his blade, sending the smaller sword flying too far for the fool to grab it.

It nearly struck one of Egan's own men.

Alaric held his blade to Egan's throat. "Apologize to my wife."

Eli couldn't help herself. "Husband? No apology needed, but I would like my turn!"

Alaric gave her a nearly imperceptible nod, then stepped to the side a bit, giving her a clear shot. She fired her arrow and hit the foul bastard right where she'd aimed.

Right in his bollocks.

Egan screamed like a banshee as he fell to his knees, clutching the arrow and trying to remove it.

Alaric called out, "Nice shot, wife."

"Ye wish to tell me what to do now, Egan?" Eli called.

Egan fainted. The four men who remained mounted their horses and took off without him.

The crowd cheered and applauded.

Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed her grandsire and grandmother heading away from the castle.

She knew what they were doing. She shouted to Alaric who was now in the middle of a crowd, all patting his back and cheering for him. "I'll be right back!"

Racing down the stairs, she grabbed Kyle's horse and mounted with a leap, saying, "I'm just borrowing him for a moment, Kyle." She had to speak to her grandfather.

Catching up to him, she shouted, "Stop! Where are ye going?"

Her grandmother reached for her grandsire's forearm and squeezed it, causing him to slow his horse. "What do ye want, Eli?"

"Nice shot, Granddaughter," her grandmama said with a wink. "Ye make this old woman proud."

Her grandsire shifted in his saddle. "Ye chose a fine man, lass. He handles his sword well. Reminds me of Alex."

"Many thanks, but where are ye taking Grandmama?" She worried they were leaving, never to return. She had to stop them.

"Just for a ride, lass. We'll be back for the wedding."

Somehow, by the look in both sets of eyes, eyes she'd seen nearly every day of her life, she knew he was lying. "Ye are taking her away to die."

"Lass," Grandmama said. "I'll no' die in front of everyone. I'd just like to go peacefully, in the arms of my love."

"Ye cannae go yet. We're all getting married. Ye have to stay for the wedding."

Her grandmother looked at her grandfather. "Fine. Logan, after we go for a ride, we'll come back so we can see the wedding. Then we'll go on our journey."

Her grandfather smiled, set his horse into a gallop and called over his shoulder, "We'll be back for the wedding!"

She knew they weren't coming back. Her grandmother had always said she wished to die privately. He was taking her to her deathbed.

"I know ye are lying!" The tears erupted as she watched the two take one of the side paths off of Ramsay land. "I love ye both!"

Her grandfather waved a hand up in the air, but never turned around.

She set her mount to a trot behind them, tears blurring her view. "Come back," she whispered.

She never saw the horse coming. Suddenly an arm wrapped around her and yanked her off her horse, hauling her over to lie belly down across the saddle of a racing mount.

It was one of Egan's men. "Egan didn't get ye, so I'll take ye instead."

He joined the other four men who waited for him, and they took off down a different path through the forest.

"Instead of five men and five women, it'll be just one of ye. But I think ye are feisty enough to handle all of us."

The bastard had his hand on her arse. "Get yer hands off of me!" She screamed at him but couldn't sit up or wriggle free of the hand holding her down.

"Why? 'Tis a fine arse. I cannae wait to see it with those trews off, and ye'll never wear them again. My wife will wear a skirt at all times, so I can slide my hand up her leg to her bum whenever I wish."

That did it for Eli. What kind of fool did he think she was? She squirmed and fought and finally did what she had to. She punched him between his legs.

He let out a howl and nearly fell off the horse. His hold loosened, and she righted herself so she could jump off.

Except they raced along a ravine she didn't care to jump into. She had to hold on until they were in an area where she could land without killing herself.

She knew Alaric would miss her and would follow soon enough, she just had to be patient.

Patience wasn't something she did very well.

Fortunately, she could hear hoofbeats approaching from behind. She looked behind them and was pleased to see her husband.

"Eli, dinnae jump yet! 'Tis too dangerous. I'll get ye."

***

Alaric followed Eli's captor along the edge of the ravine, waiting for a safe place to pull up alongside the fool and knock him off his horse. Eli was plenty strong enough to manage the horse and right herself.

If she couldn't, he'd be right there.

But first, he had to calm the fury that raged inside him. He thought of Alexander Grant's words: An angry, emotional man never wins. Ye have to control yer emotions .

He hadn't understood how difficult that would be. His fury threatened to overpower his thinking, so he looked at his wife instead of her captor, thinking again how much he adored her. She didn't deserve all this chaos so close to their wedding day.

The ravine gradually shallowed as they rode into an area of the forest that was thick with trees and where the path became wide enough for him to ride abreast of the fool. "Get ready to grab the reins, Eli," he bellowed once he was close enough for her to hear him.

He saw an area up ahead that looked safe enough to make his move. The need to make sure she wasn't hurt was paramount. After Els and his father, he couldn't bear anything happening to his wife.

They reached the wide, flat stretch of the path.

"Grab the reins, Eli! And hold on!"

Alaric kicked his feet free of his stirrups and launched himself across the gap between the two horses. He plowed into other man, knocking him off his horse to the side of the path. They landed with a thump, Alaric landing on top of him hard enough to knock the wind out of the kidnapper. One punch was all it took to knock the swine out cold.

He stood just as his brother Jowell passed him, glancing back at him.

"Stay with her, Jowell! I lost my horse."

He got up and raced down the path, watching as Eli fought to gain control of the horse. She had the reins, but the frightened horse had bolted and would not heed her.

"Slow him down, Eli!"

Jowell had nearly caught up to her. He would make it!

The horse had to jump over a fallen log and tossed Eli into the air. She landed in a heap.

Alaric thought he would vomit. But he fought through it and found an extra burst of speed.

"Eli! Jowell! Get to her! Eli!" She had to be hale.

Calm down. She'll stand up in a moment and curse at everyone. She'll be fine.

By the time he reached her, Jowell had caught the horse, pulling the panicked beast to the side of the path so it wouldn't step on her. Uncle Connor and Broc came up behind him, but he couldn't talk with them.

Eli lay unmoving in the dirt off to the side of the path. He knelt next to her and kissed her lips first. He didn't know what else to do. For all he'd done for his father and his brother, he was suddenly helpless, unable to act.

"Eli," he whispered. "Come back to me, love. Say anything."

Uncle Connor leaped off his horse and said, "Get a mount. We need to get her out of here and back to the keep. There were three or four other men, and I fear they might return. Take my horse. Broc will find yers." His brother went after his horse.

Alaric nodded, unable to speak. She looked so pale and helpless, all he could do was pray she would come back to him.

Broc yelled over his shoulder as he left, "One of ye check her for broken bones, Alaric. Stay calm. Do what Mama taught us."

Connor said, "I'll do it. Mount up." He knelt next to her and checked both arms and legs, then felt the back of her head. "None that I can find, and she has no lumps on her head, Alaric, so dinnae go to that place in yer mind. She's young and strong. This ground is softer than when yer sire and brother fell."

He mounted the warhorse and turned it around, then his uncle picked her up carefully, handing her to him.

What else could go wrong?