The Lover

She was about to turn her mount toward home when a shout of warning came from the distant crofter’s hut. A light appeared below, winking like a star, followed by the rapid staccato of hoofbeats from various directions.

Instinctively Sabrina plunged into the bordering black forest to hide, a moment before a dark, menacing figure came flying along the path at a gallop, broadsword drawn.

She caught the wicked gleam of steel, but the rider must have missed seeing her, for he raced on. She recognized Niall more from his silhouette than any distinguishable features, and was debating whether to follow when she froze at the sound of thudding horses’ hooves behind him.

An instant late

r a trio of mounted men burst from the tangled woodland. One carried a torch, which lit the night, while all three brandished weapons.

“After the bloody whoreson!”

“Aye, kill the bastard!”

Without pause they pounded after their quarry in hot pursuit.

Jolted to her senses, Sabrina desperately set her heels in her mount’s side and put him to the gallop. Ignoring the dangers of hidden footfalls and low-hung branches, she sped along the rocky path, clutching a fistful of mane and praying.

It was several moments before the path widened enough for her to see what was happening up ahead. In the glow of torchlight, the enemy leader raised a pistol and fired. A shot rang out, and Sabrina gave a cry of alarm. Yet there were no additional reports. She hoped it was because he had spent his bullet and could not take time to reload.

Yet the Buchanans were closing in on their quarry.

To her horror, Niall sharply drew rein and wheeled his horse to face his enemies, planting himself directly in their path.

Broadsword raised, the leader gave a blood-chilling cry and charged. Sabrina heard the scraping clang of steel against steel an instant later. Her heart in her throat, she dragged her mount to a stumbling halt, gasping for breath.

She would forever remember the next moment like a hauntingly bad dream. Niall parried the first attack with ease, but hard on its heels came a second man, the vicious blow by another enraged Buchanan nearly unseating him.

Finding his sword ripped from his hand, Niall flung himself off his horse and dove for the blade. He rolled to his feet in a continuous, fluid motion, his fist clutching the hilt, but the leader gave him no time to recoup. Instead the man charged on horseback, lunging in a deadly assault.

Sabrina gave a cry of fear, an instant before Niall leaped behind the broad trunk of a birch tree, narrowly avoiding the arching downward slice of his enemy’s blade.

The silence that followed pulsed with tension, while the combatants regarded one another.

The torch had been flung to the ground but remained lit, so Sabrina could clearly see the Buchanan men in the flame’s glow as they dismounted. Apparently roused from their beds, they were bare-chested and barefooted, but had taken time to wrap their plaids around their waists. Half naked, their hair flowing wild, they seemed the epitome of savage warriors…warriors stalking their prey.

Their expressions fierce, they slowly moved forward, intent on encircling Niall, predators closing in for the kill…

“Niall…” Sabrina cried hoarsely, terrified by such uneven odds.

His head came up sharply, and he stared, as if taken aback by her presence.

Spying her along the path, Niall swore. “Sabrina, keep away!”

When he dodged a blow from one of his assailants, she made a choked sound in her throat.

“For God’s sake, go!”

Sabrina pressed her hand to her mouth to keep from crying out again and distracting him, but even as she watched, the three men attacked at once.

Niall met their driving offensive with slashing steel, but even a novice could see he could not fight for long against such overwhelming might. She had to do something! He wouldn’t thank her for interfering, but she couldn’t leave him there to die.

Desperately Sabrina glanced about her. She was armed with a sword Geordie had given her, yet it would be useless except at close quarters, and she had little skill with the weapon, in any case.

Her terrified gaze found Niall again, engaged in a grisly dance with his assailants, his blade ringing against tempered steel. When a Buchanan broadsword cut swiftly through the air, Niall deflected the razor edge and parried with a strong blow of his own. Yet the man on his left lunged with a deft thrust, forcing Niall to stagger backward.

Not daring to think, Sabrina slid to the ground and scooped up a fist-sized boulder. Targeting the nearest Buchanan, she threw it with all her might. To her amazement, her aim was true, hitting the side of his head with a crack. He reeled and pitched sideways, landing hard on his shoulder. Rolling, he came to rest on his back, his vacant eyes staring heavenward.

As one, the two remaining Buchanans turned to eye her with fury. When the tallest took a half step toward her, Niall vented a curse and demanded his attention with a flurry of slashing strokes. The Buchanans resumed the battle, a murderous bloodlust in their eyes.