Free Much Ado About Highlanders (The Scottish Relic Trilogy) by May McGoldrick Page B

Englishman, dragging one leg behind her.
    The soldier’s eyes widened, and he swung his sword in her direction. Alexander was on him before the man could even utter a cry for help. Cut down, the soldier crumpled at her feet.
    “Wait here,” he ordered, pushing her behind a tree.
    His eyes met hers for only an instant. He was a warrior ready for battle, and he would protect her to the last breath left in his body.
    “As soon as I’ve led them away, go back in the river and let the current take you as far as you can go.”
    Voices. She peered out as soon as Alexander plunged into the undergrowth along the bank. Four men came out into the clearing, the first one nearly stumbling over their dead comrade. Seeing Alexander in flight, they leaped after him and the chase began.
    She picked up the short sword of the dead soldier. It was no heavier than the ones she used in practice with the MacKay warriors. The river was only steps away. She turned and followed the shouts. There could be more of them ahead, but she couldn’t leave him here. She wouldn’t let him die. They’d exchanged vows of marriage, regardless of the mockery they’d made of it for the past six months. Kenna wouldn’t be able to live with herself if anything happened to him because of her.
    The sound of fighting brought her to a clearing. Three men were down. Alexander was deflecting the blows of the last one, a huge soldier swinging a massive sword.
    Blood covered Alexander’s shirt. His left arm hung limp and was clearly no use to him in the battle. The Englishman drove him back and he stumbled over a root. As the soldier raised the weapon over Alexander, Kenna shouted, rushing in. But she stopped short as someone grabbed a fistful of her hair from behind, yanking her backward. Then she felt the edge of a blade against her throat.
    “Drop it.”
    Alexander’s sword ran upward through his foe before the blow could fall, and the giant collapsed on her husband’s body.
    “I said drop the sword.”
    The man was a Scot, a Lowlander by his accent. Kenna wondered how many more of them were left.
    She dropped the sword at her feet as Alexander shoved the dead body away and stood up. He saw her and whoever it was holding a knife to her throat.
    “I’m taking the woman,” the Lowlander threatened. “If you follow, she’s dead.”
    “You’re not taking her anywhere,” Alexander told him. “She means nothing to you and she belongs to me.”
    “If she’s the one we’re looking for, she means a great deal to me.”
    He started to back away. Kenna stumbled and the man jerked her upright. As he did, she pulled the dirk from her belt and stabbed backward at him, hitting him in the thigh and again in the belly. She felt his grip loosen.
    Wrenching herself free, she turned to face him. But before she could strike again, he suddenly stood up straight, a peculiar look on his face. Dropping his knife, he reached back over his shoulder.
    When he fell dead on his face at her feet, she saw the hilt of a short sword protruding from his back. Behind him, a boy stood looking at them, his face flushed with anger. He couldn’t have been more than eight or nine years of age.
    “There’s more of them nearby. I seen ’em. Follow me.”
    He started off in a direction away from the river. Alexander joined her and took her hand. He was covered in blood, but she didn’t know how much of it was his.
    “The lad’s our best chance,” he told her.
    He was badly hurt. Fresh blood was seeping through the shirt on his side. His steps dragged, but they kept the boy in sight.
    Kenna wrapped an arm around him, encouraging him to lean on her. Then, just ahead, water shimmered through the trees. By the time they reached a stony beach, the boy had shoved a small skin-covered fishing boat into the water.
    “Is he going to die on you?” he asked, as Kenna helped Alexander climb inside. Blood dripped onto nets in the bottom of the boat.
    “Nay, we’ll have no dying today,”