Highlander Enchanted(63)
“How many survived?” he asked, resting against the trunk of a tree. The forest seemed to be trying to help him. Brush hugged his legs and tree branches stretched to touch him. He absently nudged leaves out of his line of sight.
“Five,” replied a breathless Brian beside him.
“Five of thirty.” Most of his kin and the few MacDonald warriors had gone ahead with their fleeing clans. The loss of life was not as great as it could be, but it was a sharp blow when they had too few warriors as it was.
“Ye need a healer,” Niall said, frowning. “Forgive me, cousin. I did all I could.”
“I ken it, Niall.” Cade had listened to the tale of the ambush Niall and Marie faced before dawn with dismay. Of the four of them traveling with him, only Niall survived and was wounded.
From what he knew, Marie’s daughter, who had inherited the healing gift, had only ever practiced her healing arts on animals, and small ones at that.
Healing ran in their family as well and had been Cade’s gift, until he lost it to the madness. “Niall, ye can stop the bleeding, can ye not?” he asked, turning to his cousin.
“Poorly.” His cousin stepped nearer and pushed the branches trying to hug the seillie chieftain out of the way.
“Poorly is better than dead,” Brian said.
Cade snorted in agreement and lifted his hand for his cousin to access the wound. He grimaced as Niall’s hot magic ripped through the delicate skin around the wound. But it worked, and he ran his fingertips over the skin that had grown over the wound.
“Have ye heard from Angus?” he asked, referring to the warrior tasked with finding Isabel.
“Nay. If he found her, he would return.” Niall’s tone was hushed. “Yer wife disappeared.”
“It wouldna be the first occurrence,” Cade said, conflicted. “I did force her t’wed me.”
“You didna see her at yer side, cousin,” Brian objected. “She took down all yer talismans and draped them around yer body, thinking they would heal you.”
Cade smiled at the thought. The talismans were to keep evil away and to calm his spirit so the madness did not torment him. But they had no power to heal flesh. Isabel had no way to know this. That she had done all she could to help him, even entrust his health to the sorcery she often regarded with alarm, touched him deeply.
“I didna say I would let her go,” he said, straightening. “But if Laird Duncan doesna have her, and she did not steal my horse, then where is she?”
Niall sucked in a breath, pointing.
Cade leaned away from the tree trunk to see where he indicated.
Laird Duncan’s army waited for the walls to finish burning. Hundreds of men were gathered in a crescent shape around the keep, their faces painted and forms clad in the leather jerkins and shields customary in the Highlands.
The newcomers, however, wore metal helmets that reflected the flames. Cade counted twenty knights under Lord Richard’s banner. He did not have to see past the walls to know there were likely double that in the shadows.
“Sneaky Englishman,” Brian said. “He was planning this. He couldna ‘ave sent fer so many knights so fast otherwise.”
Warm anger energized Cade as he recalled what Richard had planned to do to Isabel in the forest. Lightning split the sky in response to his uncontrolled emotion.
“Easy, cousin,” Niall said and rested a hand on his shoulder. “Save yer strength.”
Cade pushed away from the tree supporting him. “We must go.” Worse than knowing Richard had brought English knights to a Highland battle was the worry lighting his blood. No one had seen Isabel leave. He did not know if anyone had taken her, or if she simply fled out of fear. She had not wanted to give up Saxony and yet, he did not think she would tend to him and vanish before he woke.
And their kisses … she had been receptive, eager even.
Was his own heart mistaken? Did he see what he wished to see? Or had there been a spark of warm affection in her eyes and touch?
Her disappearance left him furious and concerned. Not knowing what happened, if she were in danger or harmed, twisted his emotions and left him vulnerable to the darkness of his mind.
Cade began walking through the forest, limping on his injured leg. His cousins trailed him. The path opened before him and closed behind Niall.
Cade wracked his thoughts for any scenario where Isabel was safe. She had mentioned an uncle, a duke or similar. Had he come to take her home? Sent someone to fetch her out of the Highlands? How had he found her, if her writs had been kept secret? And why would he not come to the gates instead of stealing her away? Wealthy English lords were not to be trusted – and had the gold to do what they wished in the world.
It was too soon for his message to have reached the Scottish court and assistance to come from this direction.
Thunder roared overhead, and Cade breathed in deeply, asserting what control he could over himself. Somewhere in the forest, a tree groaned and crashed to the ground. Small brush and leaves were torn from the limbs of trees and flung around, and hail had begun to pelt the delicate forest flowers.
Shielded from the winds and rains by his magic, he nonetheless regretted seeing the damage his emotions were doing to the forest around him. Cade breathed a quiet spell to the clouds. He was weak and growing weaker. If he had learned one thing from the Holy Lands, it was how much he loathed knowing his weakness caused those around him to suffer as well. He was unable to protect Isabel or his clan. He was unable to stop his feelings from battering the forest that had always protected him and his people.