Bold (The Handfasting) - By Becca St. John Page 0,44

was good. It proved her barrier was not a solid one.

“We’ll see. Why not a wager lass? I win, I get a kiss. You win and,” he reached out, hoping she would take his hand. “What, Maggie girl, what do you get?”

“To walk!”

“You ask the world, Maggie and all I want is a simple kiss.” But he was happy now for she had taken his hand, was letting him lead her to the stream.

He saw Bruce aiming for them and shook his head. This was the closest he had been to Maggie in days, he did not want to upset that.

Bruce ignored his scowl, sidled up beside him. "Bold."

"I'm busy now, Bruce."

"Not too busy for this.”

He squeezed her hand, looked to her, not willing to let her go when she pulled free. A reluctant withdrawal.

“You go, Bold.” Her wistful smile worried him for it spoke of a chance lost forever when there should be so many more in their future.

Damn his responsibilities.

“It’s important, Laird, or I’d not break in.”

“Wait for me?” He asked Maggie but she didn’t answer-- just waved a small wave as she backed away. The distance loomed far wider than feet.

“Bold,” Bruce pressed. “You’ll be wantin’ to hear this now, not later.”

“What?” He snapped.

“There's sign of riders coming toward us. They veered east just short of Dunegan's Woods."

That caught his attention. “Riders? Have you told the watch?"

"Aye. But that's not the worst of it."

Talorc watched Maggie head toward the bush for a bit of privacy and frowned. Diedre should be back by now, should go with her into the woods.

Unease burgeoned as he looked back at Bruce. "What is the worst of it?"

"Someone's playing with the old ways. They've built an altar, for sacrifice."

"In Donegan's wood?"

"Aye."

"Are you certain that's what it's for?"

Bruce shifted on his feet. "The markings are there, and it's been used. It's covered with blood stains. From the looks of the bones by the fire, more than animals have been on that stone."

"How old are the tracks?" Some of the dis-ease settled as Maggie stepped back into the clearing.

"Within a day, but Bold," Bruce looked away, as if he couldn't face his leader, "it looks like they were preparing for another sacrifice. There's fresh wood laid out, and . . ."

"This is our land," Talorc bellowed. "This is happening inside our borders!"

"I know, and I've doubled the guard."

"Did you not destroy that altar?"

Bruce stared at the Bold. "No, the men wouldna’ touch it."

Talorc dampened his fury, it would only cloud his thoughts. The first thing was to protect Maggie, guard her at all times.

“Ian, what?” She yelled as she backed toward the outcropping and turned to him, her eyes wide with fear. “Ian’s there, can you see him? Blocking my way . . .” She didn’t get time to finish for Deidre staggered from the woods on the other side, her clothes stained with blood. She shook, raised her hand, a bloody hand, knife still clasped in it.

“We were attacked.” The boisterous woman whimpered. “Liam’s dead!” With her wail the woods purged a flood of wild men, painted, armed ready for battle.

Warrior’s battle calls filled the night. Undulating cries rose from the woods, the heavy pounding of shields. They were cornered on that outcropping, no were to go but back and then down, a fifty foot drop.

Maggie. They must protect Maggie. “Surround her!” Talorc ordered, as he raced forward, no question that the men would form a protective body guard around her.

But she was only safe if the battle was won.

It was turning dark, the worst time for attack, to distinguish friend from foe. His claymore in hand, Talorc charged for the trees, toward the heat of the fray.

Arrows rained down upon them. Men wearing naught but painted symbols poured from the wood, heaved rocks, waved claymores and dirks. MacKays outnumbered the band but the attackers had targes to shield them from blows and the advantage of surprise. The MacKays barely had time to gather their wits let alone weapons and shields.

He wielded his blade, slashed and stabbed, swung from side to side, front to back to confront foe after foe. A fierce battle, a focused fight, pushing them further back toward the edge of the rocks.

Spurred with worry, he lunged in attack, swerved to see the circle of his men with Maggie in the middle. They had her safe, despite the onslaught of arrows and rocks still coming from the cowards in the woods. Damned if she wasn’t struggling to break free.

Mikey broke