Highlander Enchanted(73)
When the first warrior reached the valley, seillie magic shot through Cade.
The ground opened up beneath the feet of dozens of men, sucking them down to their waists and trapping them in the mud. Trees crashed in the forest and began rolling, stripping their branches as the thick logs hurled towards the invaders. Several dozen more men and horses were knocked off their feet, injured or startled, without being killed.
Cade snorted, fleetingly amused by his clan’s creativity. For a non-warrior seillie to kill was to travel to the Dark Court. None of the traps set would slay any of Laird Duncan’s men, but this was not the purpose. By blatantly displaying the seillie magic, his cousins hoped to play upon the fear and reverence mere men held for sorcery and omens of misfortune. The less sure Laird Duncan’s warriors were, the greater the chances for Cade’s clan of not perishing.
Another group of warriors were swallowed by the earth up to their waists, and large boulders propelled themselves out of the woods and began to travel up the hill from whence the invaders had come. They avoided running into anyone but formed a line to help block the movement of horses belonging to Laird Duncan’s mounted warriors.
Upon reaching the forest and campfires, Laird Duncan’s men were grabbed by brush and saplings. They fought off the shrubbery, some running away from the forest while others plunged farther into its depths to fight anyone they found.
“What is this?” Lord Richard’s pale features were frowning as he watched two of his knights hacking bushes that hugged their legs and tripped them.
“Sorcery,” whispered Laird Duncan.
General chaos broke out among his warriors, and the chieftain’s face blazed red with fury.
“Remain here!” he barked at them and wheeled his horse. He thundered towards the small cluster of seasoned commanders and masters-at-arms observing the valley and began screaming orders before reaching them. The bulk of his army waited behind the hill to see how the first wave faired.
“Seillie magic,” whispered one of the chieftain’s allies. “’Tis no tale.”
“I believe in swords, not magic,” Lord Richard snapped and turned to the squire with him. “Go! Tell the men to avoid the valley. We know they hide beyond the hill. We will attack from another direction!”
The squire raced off. Cade followed him with his gaze. His path blocked by boulders, the youth did not journey down the hill into the valley but shouted and waved to those serving Richard until they heeded him. They maneuvered through the boulders and joined him, before the small group of knights tore off down the hill on the other side and began circling the valley.
Laird Duncan was vainly trying to reorganize the befuddled warriors in the valley, and Cade shifted in his saddle.
“There!” Lord Richard cried and pointed.
On the ridge opposite them, observing the valley, was a line of three dozen men on horseback – and one woman in a scarlet cloak with her hood pulled up against the rain. She carried a makeshift banner with the coat of arms reflected on the medallions he wore.
“Isabel,” Cade breathed. Heat lit his blood, and he was momentarily stuck staring at her figure, uncertain whether it was affection or fever that set him afire. Ready to protect a people she barely knew from danger, she rode between a man in black hood and Brian.
A solid punch knocked him off the horse. Cade landed with a grunt on the ground in the mud and glared up at Richard.
“Do not ever say her name again!” Richard snapped and swung down off his horse. “We will finish this now!”
“M’lord! ” one of the guards objected. “Laird Duncan –”
“Turn your backs or I will have your heads!”
The four Highlanders assigned to Cade glanced at one another before obeying.
Cade struggled up. Richard planted a foot against his shoulder and shoved him onto his back, a boot to the chest pinning Cade in place. Richard drew his sword and lifted it.
Lightning rippled overhead, and Cade calculated his chances of living through a direct strike, if he used the power to smash Richard. Unseillie magic bristled and tumbled within him, begging to be free, and black clouds formed directly overhead in response.
Sneering, Richard raised it and prepared to lop off Cade’s head. “When I have destroyed your clan and claimed my lands, I will –”
Before he could finish, he slumped and dropped onto his side, unconscious, beside Cade.
His seasoned master-at-arms, a man with bright blue eyes and a beard, lowered the sword in his hand. The hilt was bloodied from where he hit Richard, and his eyes were on Cade.
Cade scrambled off his back, into a kneeling position, waiting warily to see what the English knight would do.
“Did you speak the truth?” the knight demanded. “Does Lord John live?”
“I doona ken for certain. I left him alive in the dungeon.” Cade tugged the medallions free of his tunic with slow movements so as not to spook the edgy knight. “But I ken he would ne’er give this up willingly.”
The master-at-arms’ gaze was riveted to the medallions. “He and Richard served under me in the Crusades,” he said gruffly. “Lord John was the bravest, most honorable man I commanded, until he was lost in a Saracen battle our first months fighting. Lord Richard was sound with a sword but did not care for battle and was of little use. But, he appointed me master-at-arms upon my return and showed me great favor. It pains me to betray him, but it pains me more to betray a man as honorable as Lord John.”