Page 68 of Highlander’s Claim

Colum’s opponent lay dead, too, and Aulay grabbed his nephew’s shoulder. Panting, Aulay asked, “Are ye all right, lad?”

“Aye, Uncle. Are ye?”

“I am. How did ye come here?”

“The Sassenachs attacked us, but we managed to stand strong, and we sank one of their ships. They left. Then we waited but they were nowhere to be seen. I decided we should come back for ye, but once we neared Achleith and left the ship, they ambushed us.”

“God’s arse…” Aulay said through gritted teeth. “They ken they have a better chance to beat us here than on Islay. Bastarts need more than three ships to storm Dunyvaig.”

Colum frowned. “Where’s Jenny?”

“She’s—” Aulay turned to where the slope led down and went completely still.

Two hundred feet away, three English warriors were going down the slope to the hidden beach.

Jenny…

In his periphery vision, Aulay saw the dark form of another English warrior attacking Colum with a sword. But Aulay couldn’t pay attention to the clash of metal.

His whole being became alert; the hair on his arms rose like a wolf’s hackles. All he could think of was Jenny… With his heart stuck in his throat, he darted behind the warriors. When he reached the top of the path, two of them were already down below, on the beach, looking around. The third one still climbed down the slope.

“Stop, ye bastarts!” he roared as he flew down the slope.

Pebbles and earth rolled out from under his feet. He almost lost his balance and tumbled down a three-hundred-foot cliff into the now-angry sea that crashed against rugged rocks. The three men looked up at him. The one who was still on the path turned around and ran up the hill towards Aulay.

Every step Aulay took reverberated in his chest as he ran. He roared for Jenny. She should hear him nearby and hide better. His claymore clashed with the enemy’s sword like lightning. He struck with his sword, over and over again, meeting steel. The man’s feet slid down, spraying dust and sand and pebbles. Aulay glanced down at the crashing waves. Then one push and the enemy plummeted to his death; only a scream followed.

As he hurried down the slope, one of the men waited for him on the beach.

A female scream pierced the air, and Aulay’s blood froze. The second enemy dragged Jenny, who was struggling and pushing against him.

“Let her go!” Aulay made a movement toward her, but the first man thrust his sword at him, and he had to deflect. He was too distracted and in an awkward position, exposing his side.

Red-hot pain ripped through him as the blade cut through the léine-chròich and his own flesh. He grunted and staggered, losing his balance as he breathed through the shock of the wound.

It was bad. He knew it was bad, far worse than his shoulder wound.

And the man had an advantage now. He slashed his sword across and Aulay grunted as he lifted his sword high against the attack. The two blades clashed. The man forced his sword down until Aulay’s own claymore dug into his cheekbone.

Pain ripped through Aulay’s body as he kept pushing back. His side felt hot, so incredibly hot and wet.

Aulay stole a glance at Jennifer, and his skin crawled. She had a chunk of wood in her hands, and she swung to hit the English warrior. The man slapped it away like a fly, then whacked her hard across the cheek.

Protect her…

He couldn’t do a single thing when Leitis had been dying in his arms.

But he could protect this woman from his enemy.

He roared and, ignoring the pain, pushed back the Englishman’s sword. Then, while he staggered back, in a single strike he thrust the sword into the man’s face.

The enemy grunted, fell on his knees, and slid to his side on the beach, the sand darkening with his blood.

Feeling dizzy and tired, Aulay strode across the beach towards his last enemy. He had Jenny in his grip, his sword at her throat. Her eyes were big and worried as she looked at his side.

“Let her go, ye pig,” Aulay grunted out. “Ye will be sorry ye touched a hair on her head.”

The man’s teeth were bared, his eyes glinting in contempt. “This Scottish whore is not worth spit.”