The Condemned Highlander (Highland Intrigue Trilogy 2)

“Evil seems to be winning,” Brogan said with disappointment.

Annis grinned. “Never underestimate love, husband. After all, I did fall in love with you and tamed your evil ways.”

Heads turned when he laughed.

“You are the only one who could make me laugh while held captive by a band of mercenaries.”

Her grin softened. “And you are the only one who I know will keep me safe when captured by a band of mercenaries.”

He was not as confident as she was, though he would do whatever was necessary to keep her from harm.

She grinned again. “But fear not. I do not think this group means us harm.”

“Enough talking and laughing,” the leader shouted. “Keep silent or I will cut your tongues out.”

“Not a wise move, since then we will not be able to negotiate with you,” Annis called out to her husband’s dismay.

“Order your wife to hold her tongue,” the leader shouted.

Brogan laughed. “You might do me a favor by cutting her tongue out.” He laughed harder when Annis jabbed him in the chest.

“Cut out my tongue and I will return the favor, but it will not be your tongue I slice off,” Annis threatened the leader.

Brogan tried to cover his wife’s mouth with his hand to stop any more threats she might fling at the man, but she swatted his hand away. Some of the men laughed, not so the leader. He had turned his horse and was headed their way.

He was about to warn his wife to hold her tongue, but he was not quick enough.

Her chin shot up. “You know what I want from you—Gunna. Take me to her. I wish to speak with her.”

Brogan was ready to leap off the horse to protect his wife as he watched the leader’s dark eyes narrow and roam slowly over Annis. If he were to attack, he could count on his men to join in, but he would do that only if he had no other choice, for it would leave his wife in harm’s way.

“Hold your tongue until we stop next, then I may give you what you want,” the leader ordered.

Brogan tightened his arm around his wife’s waist in warning when he felt her body tense, ready to lash out at the man.

Annis’s response was to clamp her lips tightly shut and glare at the leader.

“Women,” the man said and shook his head and rode away.

Not another word was spoken, Annis using the forced silence to focus on achieving her goal. She had built a firm foundation for her quest, and she would not see it crumble now.

It was not long at all before they made their way through a heavily forested area of the woods and came upon a camp that sat in a small clearing.

Two men waited there, adding more fighting power to the mercenaries, but Brogan was a superior swordsman so he could count himself as more than one man. He would bide his time and see what the leader intended, giving him time to form a plan and escape if necessary.

Annis barely dismounted when she rushed over to the leader. “Where is she? Where is Gunna hiding?”

“All in good time,” the leader said and pointed to the campfire. “Sit.”

Brogan had come up behind his wife and his hands were quick to lodge at her waist. “Come warm yourself against the chill that has settled in.”

“She is in our grasp,” Annis whispered as they walked away.

“Gunna may not be as forthcoming as you want,” Brogan warned, taking hold of her arm. He intended to keep his hands on her the whole time they were there, fearful of what might happen. “She has kept the MacWilliam lass, her niece, safe all these years. She will not falter now.

“I will find a way to convince her,” Annis said and sat on the ground to stretch her chilled hands out to the fire to warm. A coldness had settled in the air, reminding that winter was on the way. If she did not see this done before it arrived, snow could delay her quest, a thought she did not want to give possibility to.

Brogan sat beside her, his eyes constantly surveying the area, having recalled something else Rannick had warned him about. Mercenaries often hid some of their men in the woods around their camp in case something unexpected should happen. Were there more ruthless mercenaries watching them from the woods?

As soon as the leader sat opposite them, Brogan asked, “Who are you?”

“Troy, I am the leader of these brave men,” he boasted. “But let’s not waste time with pleasantries. I am not the mercenary hired to abduct your wife.”

“Then why are we here?” Brogan asked, not sure whether to believe the man or not, Rannick’s warning about not trusting mercenaries still clear in his head.

“You are here because of Gunna. We protect Gunna. She has been good to me and my men, tending us when needed through the years; from seeing to our wounds and ills, to preparing food, and mending our garments.”