The Hunter Read online

  Janet turned to the soldier who’d spoken for her before. “Please.”

  But he turned coldly away, ignoring her pitiful plea. Chivalry had ended with the discovery of the missive.

  A moment later, the priest, his oafish minion, and the other soldiers were riding away, leaving her with her torturer and executioner.

  “Do not take too long,” the priest said over his shoulder right before they disappeared from view.

  The brutish soldier started to drag her back into the trees. Janet’s heart was slamming against her ribs—her probably broken ribs—and every instinct urged to use what remaining strength she had to fight back. But she had to be patient and wait for the perfect opportunity. She would have only one chance to take him by surprise. So she forced the fight from her muscles, becoming as floppy as a poppet of rags.

  When they reached a small clearing, he tossed her unceremoniously on the ground. She looked up at him looming over her and tried to push back the panic crawling up her throat.

  Her stomach turned.

  He reached up under his habergeon of mail and started to work the ties of his braies. “Don’t move, you stupid bitch. I’ve never fucked someone into telling me what I want to hear, but then again I’ve never questioned someone as pretty as you. Or as pretty as you used to be. Your face doesn’t look too good right now.” He laughed.

  Janet tried to shut out his words. Tried not to hear what he was saying as she concentrated on the hand reaching slowly for her boot.

  Just a few more inches …

  She gasped when stepped over her. He would have crushed her legs with his foot if she hadn’t reacted by separating them. But unknowingly by spreading her legs, he helped her. Her hand found its target.

  She grasped the hilt of her dagger in her hand as he knelt down on the ground before her.

  All she could see in the moonlight was the cold gleam of his smile. “Aren’t you going to fight me? It’s much more fun that way.”

  Her heart was in her throat. She held her breath, waiting for the perfect moment.

  He lifted his habergeon. Her eyes went to the protruding mass of flesh, and she shuddered with revulsion.

  He saw her reaction. “Aye, it’s impressive isn’t it.” He dropped his gaze and wrapped his hand around himself, giving it a hard stroke.

  That was when she struck.

  She slid the blade from the scabbard and plunged it into his leg.

  He cried out in shock and pain. His eyes widened and then his hands circled around her neck, squeezing …

  She screamed until she ran out of air.

  Ewen took what the boy had told him—that the priest had caught sight of the lady in the village and had sent to the castle for soldiers to arrest her, but the lady had run away before he could catch her—and was able to pick up her tracks at the place the horses had chased her into the forest.

  Leaving the boy to watch the road, he and Sutherland followed the tracks through the forest. As it was dark, he had no choice but to use a torch.

  He came to the place where another set of tracks appeared from the road, and a dank chill raced through his blood. A few feet later his fears were confirmed: whoever had been following her had caught her. He had just started to follow the tracks where the man had dragged her, when he heard a sound that stopped his heart: a woman’s scream.

  He didn’t hesitate. Even after Sutherland bit out a warning to him to be careful, he plunged into the trees. The sound had been close. Torturously close. He prayed as hard as he’d ever prayed in his life. Please let me get there in time. Don’t let it be too late. Just a few more seconds …

  He burst into the clearing, sword raised. When he saw the small figure struggle to her feet from beneath the body of a prone man, everything inside him seemed to come to a sudden halt.

  His hand fell. “Janet?”

  She looked up at him, and he made a pained sound. The emotions were so fierce and intense, he staggered. His stomach heaved. He’d felt something like this only once before, in the aftermath of his first battle, where the sight of all the blood had sickened him. But it was nothing to the sight of the woman he loved battered and bloody.

  “Ewen?” she said softly. “You found me.”

  She swayed, and he lurched forward, catching her against him. His heart was pounding so hard he couldn’t breathe. He cradled her to him like a broken bird. The thought of how close he’d come to losing her made his knees week. “Oh God, are you all right? What happened?”

  She buried her head in his chest and grabbed hold of him, clutching him like a frightened kitten. But a glance at the body of the man at her feet told him that his kitten had the heart of a lion. She’d been beaten but not defeated, and through the gut-wrenching emotions wracking him he felt a swell of pride.

  He kissed her head, savoring the silky texture of her hair and the scent of bluebells that reminded him of home. She was his home. How could he not have known it? “It’s all right now,” he murmured soothingly. “I have you. Everything is going to be all right. I promise.”

  Sutherland came up behind them and swore, the torchlight enabling him to see her face. It seemed to break the trance that had enfolded them.

  She looked up at him, her bruised and bloody face suddenly intent. “You have to catch them before they reach the castle.”

  “Who?” he asked.

  Before she could respond, the sound of a sharp whistle pierced the night. He and Sutherland exchanged a look. Sutherland responded, and a few moments later, they had company.

  Janet was in a state of shock. She could still feel the man’s hands squeezing her neck. She had thought he was going to kill her. He would have, too, if her blade hadn’t found the perfect spot. Before he could finish her off, he collapsed on top of her, his life’s blood still rushing from his body.

  Out of this nightmare, Ewen had appeared like an image from a dream. It had taken her a moment to realize he was real.

  He’d found her. He was holding her, and she never wanted to let him go.

  But then she remembered the priest. They had to find him before he reached the castle. Her informant’s life was at stake.

  Her explanation, however, was interrupted by the arrival of three more nasal-helmed phantoms. Under normal circumstances she might have felt a flicker of apprehension, even knowing they were friends, but Ewen was holding her.

  “We heard the scream,” one of the men said by way of explanation. Magnus, she realized, recognizing his voice.

  When she turned from her position pressed against Ewen’s chest to look at him, the big Highlander swore.

  She bit her lip, tasting blood, and realized her face must look as bad as it felt.

  “What happened, lass?” he asked, his voice more gentle than she’d ever heard it.

  She must really look bad. “I don’t have time to explain. There is a party of five soldiers, a priest, and another man headed back to the castle. You have to catch them before they arrive. They have a missive meant for Bruce. A note that could spell a death warrant for someone inside the castle.” She sensed movement from one of the men at Magnus’s side and instinctively retreated to the safety of Ewen’s chest. Even beneath the darkened nasal helm, he looked meaner than the rest.

  “Back off, Viper,” Ewen said from behind her. “What the hell is the matter with you?”

  The warrior ignored him, his eyes fixed on her—the eeriest eyes she’d ever seen. “When did they leave?”

  “A few minutes ago.” Janet thought back. “Maybe five?”

  “I’ll go,” the man Ewen called Viper said.

  Janet turned to Ewen. “You must go, too. You have to make sure they find them and no one gets away.”

  Ewen clenched his jaw shut, looking as yielding as a stone wall. “I’m not leaving you.”

  “Please,” she said. “You must do this for me. I beg you.”

  His eyes searched hers. “Don’t ask this of me. You’re hurt. Jesus, Janet, you’re covered in blood, and your fa