Highland Archer Page 7

  “Lily, I’m going to retire. You should do the same.”

  “I’ll help you undress then, milady.” Lily yawned.

  “No, don’t. You are just as tired as I am. Go on now. They have prepared a room for you.”

  The innkeeper’s wife came to them and placed her hands on her ample hips. “Aye, Lily, you will stay in the room next to ours. It’s been empty since our Meagan married. Come on now, I’ll loan you a shift.”

  Lily looked at Ariana one last time, not used to the treatment, and then acknowledged the woman. “No need, I still have my bedclothes under all this. Lady Ariana and I had to dress in a hurry.”

  “We’ll talk tomorrow,” Ariana told Lily and then stood. Valent watched her and gave her a slight nod. Relieved he’d come to her, she went upstairs.

  From the bedchamber, she could make out the McKenzie camp just outside the village. There was a bonfire and men milled about. The sun was setting, but she could make out how heavily armed they were. How could the few McLeod men think they had any chance against them?

  When Valent came to her, she’d tell him to instruct everyone to surrender. It was better. Too many children would be left fatherless and women without husbands.

  Ariana had been so deep in thought she didn’t hear him enter. Valent pulled her near and she placed her cheek against his broad chest. “You came. I need you with me tonight. Stay please.”

  The steady sound of his heartbeat reminded her of the possibility he could die and she clutched at his tunic. “Don’t fight, Valent. Please surrender to them. No more death.”

  “We have a plan to try and save the guards who are imprisoned. There is a chance it will work with little bloodshed.”

  She doubted it, but remained silent, not sure what to do or say that would matter at this point. The men had already made up their minds and would not change directions at her request. If the McKenzie gave an order for all of them to be killed, then they had to be prepared. It was understandable. What they did made sense; but she could barely breathe at the thought of losing anyone else. Especially Valent, so soon after realizing she loved him. Every single part of her heart belonged to him now.

  His large hands cupped her face and lifted it to him. When his lips fell over hers, she let out a sigh at the wonderful feel of want. Life. Yes, that is what she wanted. To feel alive and know that Valent lived, too.

  The fabric of his tunic was thick and rough as her fingers curled into it to pull it up. He sensed her need to touch him, or felt the same, because he pulled it off over his head.

  Frantic movements brought them to finally discard all the clothing and he lifted her away from the pools of her dress and coat upon the floor and carried her to the small bed. He placed her upon the bed with a gentleness that touched her heart.

  He brushed his hair away from his face in an impatient gesture that almost made her smile. If not for the immediate need of him, she would have offered to cut it for him. Instead, she raked her fingers through the soft tresses and brought him to kiss her.

  The softness of his lips on hers contrasted the hungry suckling and nipping of his teeth at her bottom lip. She arched under him, needing more.

  Valent understood her message and his rough hands moved over her skin, touching from her sides down to her hips. “You are so perfect. So beautiful,” he mumbled at her ear. The huskiness in his voice sent her to want him more.

  “Make love to me, Valent. Stay with me always.”

  He lifted and peered down at her. His lips curved, a rarity for the mostly somber man. “I am with you now. All we can ask for is the now, darling Ariana.”

  Her heart ached and she almost blurted how deeply she felt for him, but something told her it could prove a mistake. “Love me.”

  Ariana reached for him, sliding her hand down his long shaft, her breathing hitched at the silky skin covering the hardness.

  “Mmmm,” Valent moaned and bucked into her hand, his hips moving back and forward, encouraging her to stroke him. “I could spill just from this.”

  After several minutes, he pulled away and moved down her body, his tongue trailing from her throat to her breasts. He circled each tip and laved at them until her breathing came in pants. “I need you.” Ariana attempted to reach for him, but he took her hands and held them over her head.

  “Let me get my fill of you, Ariana. I want to touch every inch of you.” He took her mouth, his tongue delving in, keeping her from responding. Still holding her hands with one of his, his other reached between her legs, his fingers parting her folds until reaching the center.

  Ariana’s hips lifted and he accommodated her need by sliding his fingers into her body. “Ahhh!” She let out a gasp when he released her mouth. “Yes.”

  Valent’s lips curved as he watched her come undone, his darkened eyes fixed on her face.

  Finally, when she couldn’t take any more, he settled between her legs. His sex nudged at her entrance and she held his hips. The thickness of his shaft made her breath hitch as he slid in slowly.

  Both moaned once he was fully seated.

  “Take me, Valent.” Ariana clutched at his hips.

  The soft glow from the fire in the hearth accentuated Valent’s beautiful body when he came over her, the flames countered and shaded muscles that moved and bunched as he made love to her, bringing her to the brink of madness. His head fell back as he, too, neared the fall to the abyss that was passion.

  The sounds of their breathing, sighs, and soft moans intermingled as, once again, she began to soar. He was everything at once, a delicious assault of beauty and strength.

  She wrapped her legs around him, bringing him deeper, and he plunged into her then shuddered with his release.

  Valent maintained enough control not to crush her, but fell beside her onto the bed, bringing her against him. She threw her leg over his hip and clung to him, not ready to lose the connection and intimacy that came from being joined. “Stay like this for a moment,” she whispered. “Don’t move away. Remain connected with me.”

  Valent pulled her against his broad chest and Ariana cradled her head on his shoulder.

  “You are not staying are you?”

  “I cannot. We plan to strike once the moon is high. I must go.”

  All air left her lungs and fear resonated through every part of her. At once, the devastation that was now her life rushed over Ariana like ice cold water and she pushed away from him and curled into a ball. “I cannot lose anyone else. How can you do this to me?”

  The words were selfish and made little sense, she knew it. But didn’t she deserve to be so? To not want to lose the first man she ever loved, so soon after discovering the magical feel of it?

  “I will be back for you. I promise.” He pulled her back to him and tilted her face to his. “Look at me, Ariana.”

  His eyes were dark, his face stoic, but there was warmth in his gaze. “I promise you. I will fight to be with you again.”

  “And after that?”

  A resigned sigh left his large body. “You know it will be impossible for us to be together. Much will happen in the next weeks. Your clan will be changed forever.”

  The truth of his words shook Ariana. Of course, things were to be different. If only both could fathom how much so.

  * * *

  The high moon gave Valent enough visibility to aim at the McKenzie camp. Other than a few who stood guard, the majority slept. They were too complacent. Much too trusting of the small village.

  Perched atop the roof of the stables, Valent and another archer lowered their arrows to a torch and lit the tips, then loosed them toward the camp. Arrow after arrow they shot while the armed village men waited below.

  There were shouts of alarm when the McKenzies woke. As they dashed from the blazing tents, the McLeods cut them down, killing some and taking others.

  The men’s screams clashed with the sound of weapons, metal striking metal. Smoke filled the air, giving the atmosphere a surreal look as the battle ensued.


  Even with the element of surprise, the McLeod men had a hard time containing the McKenzie warriors. Their sentries had managed to let out an alarm just after Valent and the other archer had begun, but not soon enough to save most.

  Valent and the other archer scrambled down to assist. Valent jumped to the ground landing on his feet and immediately pierced a man who held a sword over Sidigh. The blacksmith had the advantage of strength and took a man from behind, wrestling the sword away. He held him down while another villager tied him up.

  Valent scrambled to a better vantage point and, once again, loosed an arrow felling a warrior who howled at the pain of the arrow entrenched into his upper thigh.

  When the man reached for his sword, Valent stood over him. “I wouldn’t move if I were you.”

  The man’s eyes widened when seeing his face. “Who are ye?”

  Valent motioned for men to come and tie up the fallen man. Once it was accomplished, he shoved the arrow through his thigh, ignoring the man’s shouts. Then he broke the tip off and pulled it out of the leg. “Bind it so he doesn’t bleed to death. We need him.”

  The entire time, the man’s gaze bore into him. “Ye are a McKenzie. Why do you do this?”

  “I am not a McKenzie.” Valent stormed away to see how many other prisoners they’d taken.

  Twenty men in all were bound and tied by the end of the fight. It was enough for what they had planned.

  “Liam is injured badly,” Sidigh told him. “He’s being carried to the inn. I do not think he will survive to morning.”

  The fires were dwindling, the haze with it. The older men and women of the village emerged and began throwing water from pails on the last of the blazes to keep them from spreading to the village. The prisoners were lined up and made to sit in a row, while the McLeods stood over them with swords and bows.

  “Do we wait until morning?” the other archer asked Valent. “We don’t want word to get back to the keep and they send the other warriors here. We cannot survive it. Our numbers are too few and with the prisoners to look over…”

  “You fret more than a woman,” Valent snapped. He stalked to where the blacksmith stood. “Are the wagons ready?”

  “Aye. Look, they bring them now.”

  “We must ensure they cannot get free, or reach one another and untie the bindings.” After ordering the men to ensure the prisoners were well contained with both hands and feet secured together, the McKenzies were loaded onto two wagons.

  Horses were brought and Valent rushed to his just as Ariana tugged at his arm. She searched his face then her gaze fell over his body. “Are ye hurt?”

  “No, I am fine. You should go inside.” He looked over her shoulder to note several of the village people watched them with interest. “Ariana, you must go away from me.”

  Instead, the infuriating woman fell against his chest. “Let them talk. I do not care. Please, do not go. They will kill all of you.” Tears slid down her cheeks.

  Every part of him ached to embrace Ariana and make promises to soothe her, but he wouldn’t lie to her. There were no promises to be made at the moment. He motioned to a village woman and two came for Ariana. She didn’t fight them as they pulled her away.

  She locked gazes with him. “Don’t you dare die.”

  Instead of a reply, he mounted and urged the horse to the front. Valent raised his bow over his head and motioned for everyone to follow.

  * * *

  Word must have gotten to the McKenzie, for they were already mounted and lined up just outside the keep. The laird, sitting tall on his steed, was in front of his guard making an impressive sight.

  Dressed in the McKenzie tartan of blue and green with his family crest on his shoulder, he looked equal parts leader and warrior.

  Valent waited for the reaction of the men with him and, one by one, they looked from the McKenzie to him. “What is this?” Sidigh asked. “You are brothers.”

  “I am not his brother,” Valent replied, not giving any other explanation.

  Valent held up his sword and looked over his shoulder at the McLeods. “Remain here with the prisoners.”

  Valent and Sidigh moved forward, as did the McKenzie and his lead guard.

  Steaphan’s gaze raked over him, hesitating on his bloody arm. It took Valent by surprise that anyone would care enough to ensure he was not injured. Of course, it could just be morbid curiosity. “Are ye hurt?”

  The words further shocked Valent. Sidigh looked to him, his concerned expression annoying Valent more than anything.

  Valent spoke next. “We want our men. Will exchange with yours. One man is badly injured. He will die soon if not tended to.” He motioned to the two wagons. “We bring twenty.”

  Steaphan narrowed his eyes. “I do not make bargains.”

  “Then you will die today,” Valent said, his eyes locking with his brother’s eyes.

  “I doubt it.” Steaphan turned to look over his shoulder. “We outnumber you and are better trained.”

  “Not by much.”

  “If you persist, it is you who will die today.” Steaphan looked to be worried. “Is that what you want, Darach?”

  The name was not his. It felt foreign to be addressed as such. “Matters naught to me.”

  Steaphan’s gaze focused on the wagons, searching the prisoners.

  “I suggest you discuss the matter with your men before deciding,” Valent told him. He sheathed his sword and took his bow, settling an arrow into it. “I never miss. How many do you think I will kill before you reach me?”

  He loosed an arrow and it impaled the shield of one of Steaphan’s men. Valent lifted his eyes to his brother and then took in the startled expression on the rest of the McKenzie faces behind him. By his calculation, he would kill ten before felled by his brother’s men. The two archers would not be able to strike him right away. They were too high up on the keep.

  “Very well. We will exchange all but one,” Steaphan said. “We take the murdering McLeod dog with us.”

  Sidigh leaned to Valent. “We cannot allow them to take him. They will torture him before allowing him to die.”

  “Then you prefer we lose all of our men over him? He is the reason for all of this.”

  “All but one,” Valent called to his brother. “We agree.”

  Once the McLeod men were guided to stand in front of the McKenzie men, they did the same. They untied the men’s legs so they could walk.

  “Archer.” Valent motioned for the other archer to position himself next to him. “If they betray us, kill as many of their men as you can.”

  “Aye,” the man replied and lifted his bow.

  Valent looked to Steaphan. “We send them forward at the same time.”

  The prisoners walked towards their clans, the air thick with wariness. Every man focused on the other side awaiting any movement that would indicate they were to attack. The four McKenzie archers exited through the keep and zoned in on him and the one beside him. Interesting that his brother would order him dead so easily after inquiring about an injury. So was the way of his family, he figured. Easily giving up blood.

  Once the exchange was completed, the McKenzie and his guard, once again, moved to the front. Valent exchanged looks with Sidigh. “Come, let us see what they want now.”

  When they came close enough for Sidigh to see Steaphan’s face up close, the blacksmith’s eyes widened and he looked from one to the other. Valent, himself, had a hard time not staring at his twin and grasping the familiarity of his brother’s features. How ironic for fate to set things up so they were enemies, fighting on opposing sides of a battle.

  “A clan war is imminent,” Steaphan told him. “You cannot continue to fight with them. You are a McKenzie and the fact that you look so much like me will breed distrust by them. You know as well as I do, it would be best if you come back with me. We are your clan.”

  “I repeat to you, McKenzie. You are not my clan. If I am to choose a side, then it will be the McLeods.” Fo
r now, he thought. There was no good reason, other than Ariana, to be in alliance with either one.

  “We will meet again, Darach, and we will talk. There is much you need to know.”

  They backed away from each other. The McKenzie signaled for his men to mount. Beathan was brought forward atop a horse. He was badly beaten, only able to look to them out of one eye. Still, some of the arrogance remained as he spit to the ground. “My men will come for me and you will be sorry for this, McKenzie dogs.”

  He then focused on Valent and glared. “He is not to be trusted. He should go to hell with the rest of his people.”

  The men around Valent looked to him as if waiting to hear what he would say. Valent remained silent. Just like the arrogant man, not to know when he was defeated. As good as dead. Beathan would not live much longer. No matter if the McLeods arrived soon or not. He would not be allowed to live after what he’d done.

  The newly released McLeods moved behind the horses for shelter and everyone stood by watching the McKenzies leave. There were too many and the McLeods were ill equipped to form any kind of attack that would not lead to all their demises, so there was little choice but to allow them to leave.

  Steaphan turned one last time to look at Valent.

  Perhaps, it would not be the last time he saw his brother. Valent wondered what kind of message the man would take to the rest of the clan concerning the brother that, according to him, they all thought long dead.

  What would Steaphan’s reaction be when he found out Valent was amongst the men who attacked the McKenzie hunters.

  Chapter Ten

  “Was the archer the reason you allowed them to live?” Niven, the head of his guard, rode alongside Steaphan, his gaze scanning the horizon to ensure they were not to be ambushed. “It is a costly mistake you will live to regret.”

  Not used to being questioned, Steaphan ensured to tamp down an angry retort. “I did it to get our warriors back. Your son amongst them. He is but ten and six and should not have fought yet.”

  “We could have attacked once the exchange was complete. They didn’t stand a chance. Although small in number, they will join with the other McLeods upon their arrival and fight,” Niven replied, ignoring the comment about his son.