Highlander Enchanted(49)

His opponent was likewise able, blocking and striking without appearing slowed down by the armor he wore.

Wincing whenever steel met steel, she glared past them at Richard, despising him even more to know he was responsible for this. Cade was a mystery to her, claiming to respect her desire to return to England then appearing here. But Richard … he would stop at nothing to take her lands. His intention of maiming her and lying to her uncle left her furious enough to hope Cade won this battle, even if she had no intention of marrying him, either.

Richard was an undeserving man. Why had it taken him almost killing her before she felt ready to openly oppose him? The moment she could, she was sending a message to her uncle to warn him about Richard. Whatever her place was, she was still the daughter of the Baron of Saxony.

Thunder boomed overhead loud enough to drown out the crowd’s roaring. Lightning lit up the side of the Hall lined with windows to reveal a sky in turmoil and rain sweeping down from the heavens. Another crash of thunder made the stone beneath her feet tremble.

Her eyes went to Cade in alarm. She knew nothing of his power, aside from what little he had shown her. That it could become vengeful, or respond to his emotion without his control, had not entered her thoughts.

The storm brewing outside, however, was something far more destructive than the steady rain he created to prevent Richard from leaving Cade’s keep.

She tugged the pink amulet from her dress and clenched it. It was a talisman of the heart, of love and peace, according to the healer. Would it work on the laird of the seillie?

The cheering crowd grew louder, drowning out the thunder. If not for the shuddering of the stone, she would not have known the booms were continuing to sound. The battle grew far more heated, too, with both men drawing blood.

Covered in sweat that only made his perfect frame more appealing, Cade fought with the fury of a violent sea tempest, his face a mask of resolute anger, of determination that frightened her with its intensity. He had been merciful to her despite his strength, going so far as to take pity on his homeless neighbors when his own people were suffering.

That Cade was gone. This one was bloodthirsty, shouting in triumph when he drew blood. His features were obscured by shadows, as if one of his clouds was above his head, blocking the light of torches from reaching him.

His opponent was starting to weaken at his onslaught. Stripes of blood crossed Cade’s body, along with the thick scars of his back and chest. She found herself thinking of her brother once more, of the torture he had endured in the dungeon, and her chest grew tight enough she could barely breathe. If he had been alive when Cade left him, what happened? Was he still imprisoned?

She clutched the arm of her handmaiden until she was able to breathe deeply once more, eyes riveted to the terrifying storm that was Cade. Fierce, brutal, merciless, he knocked the sword from his opponent and flung his head back with a roar.

“What shall his fate be?” Duncan shouted, fueling the blood lust of the crowd.

“Death!” screamed everyone from her handmaiden to the lowliest servant boy.

Any hope she had of Cade showing mercy disappeared when she saw his eyes. What had made her challenge him? Why had she ever considered being wed to him better than Richard?

“Ye heard ‘em!” Duncan said with a large grin.

Cade needed no encouragement.

Isabel looked away quickly as he raised the sword. The crowd was soon screaming in triumph. Lifting her gaze, she saw the body of the beheaded challenger fall to the ground.

Two of Richard’s knights plunged through the crowd, swords in hand, to smash into Cade. He rolled, barely avoiding the sword of one and driving his fist into the knee of the other.

Isabel covered her mouth. Any restraint he had showed with the first challenger was gone. Soon, it was four of Richard’s knights, and more than the rain swept into the Hall. Dark clouds were drifting in as well while lightning rendered the world outside as bright as midday. The sky was black, the clouds roiling unnaturally.

Cade was losing control.

“We must stop this,” she said to the handmaiden.

Incensed with the blood spilling in the center of the Hall, the woman did not hear her. Isabel pushed through the people towards Duncan, who was grinning broadly at the display that left her ill.

Reaching him, she took his arm. “M’lord, you must stop this!”

“Och, lass, leave it!” he replied.

“Laird Duncan! He is not –”

“I said, leave it, lass!” he said and shoved her.

She caught herself against the wall behind him. No match to challenge any warrior, she sought the familiar faces of his cousins in the crowd. Neither was present.

When the English knights were dead at his feet, the last man’s head ripped from his body by Cade’s hands, he straightened and looked around for more.

“Black Cade, my vassal and laird of the MacLachlainn!” Duncan shouted in triumph. “English, ye’ve been bested!”

All eyes turned to Richard, who stood alone, next to his master-at-arms. He was tense and pale, his look blazing. With a bow of his head, he admitted defeat with grace, surprising her.

Was he so quick to relinquish her after a year of ugly pursuit?

“Where’s my priest?” Duncan bellowed.

Her attention slid to the towering, muscular form of Cade, who rippled with unrestrained power and was coated in the blood of others, and she abruptly agreed with Richard’s decision not to challenge the madman further.