Chapter 16
The wind whipped around him like nature itself was angry at him, the skin of his face stinging with every gallop of the horse.
His heart was tied into knots from the way he and Hannah had left things and as much as he tried to push it out of his mind to focus on his mission, the hurt in her eyes kept flashing across his vision.
Damnit, he hadn’t meant to hurt her—he was just trying to protect her. Why couldn’t she see that?
Fwhip.
The sound hardly registered before he felt a stinging sensation on his bicep. Looking down, he saw the fabric of his shirt was ripped and a thin line of blood beading across his skin. An arrow.
Magnus’s eyes whipped to the tree line where the arrow had to have originated just in time to see several more arrows soaring into the air. “Arrows! Guard yerselves!” he bellowed to the men riding with him.
Horses whinnied and the men moved erratically to avoid the oncoming attack.
But even when the arrows soared past or struck the ground, the chaos wasn’t over.
From the woods on both sides of the clearing came men on foot and horseback—all wearing black tartan kilts and sashes.
His brother’s men. They had been lying in wait at the narrowest part of the journey to the village, where the tree line hugged the path right before the bridge that led into town.
Where the only escape was the bridge, or back toward the Keep.
It had been a trap. Magnus’s mind was working quickly, trying to understand what in the hell had happened and why.
If this was an attack coordinated by Alan, that meant the real target was the Keep.
Hannah. Magnus cursed himself as he realized how foolish he had been.
Their fight had caused him to leave in a huff rather than with a clear head.
He hadn’t assigned anyone as her personal guard.
She was angry, vulnerable, and alone. And it was his fault.
A blade swung in front of his face—just in time to block an arrow headed right for him, a loud ping sounding from the metal hitting metal.
He looked over to see Angus next to him, a serious expression on his face.
Magnus was far too distracted and he needed to get his wits about him if he planned to outlive this ambush.
Magnus rode ahead and blocked access to the bridge with his horse before he dismounted. “Angus, stay with me. The rest of ye, ride back to the Keep! Protect yer Lady!”
“Aye, M’Laird!” the men called in unison.
Their horses turned and rode back toward the Keep, their paths erratic to avoid being clear targets for the arrows.
They were good, well-trained men and it made him proud to see them ride back so earnestly for Hannah.
He could only hope that it was a sign of their acceptance of Hannah as Lady after all.
His attention flew back to Alan’s men as they finally reached him.
He drew his sword in an instant and parried an attack with ease.
Even though his heart thundered with worry for Hannah, there was no question that right there in that scrimmage, Magnus was in his element.
A man made of war and battle finally brought back to his habitat.
His stance was strong, his feet planted to the earth as he swung his sword with precision to cut down the first man that approached.
Magnus’s stance moved fluidly from position to position, his eyes scanning all around and calculating which man was the greatest threat at the moment.
And he did so with great confidence knowing that Angus was at his back.
Even though they were greatly outnumbered, there was no doubt in his mind that the two of them could handle it.
Alan’s men were fueled with loyalty and a hunger for power that Alan promised, but none were as skilled as the men Magnus had brought back with him from his days of being a warrior.
Much less himself and his right-hand man.
The waves of men were cut down one by one with a thrashing of Magnus’s and Angus’s blades and the men standing back to back.
Not a single blade scratched him during the onslaught.
And after the first handful of men fell at their feet, the others retreated into the tree line.
The two friends only spared each other a glance and a nod before they were hurrying to their horses.
Magnus mounted his in a flash and was racing back toward the Keep, his mind tunneled onto a single thought, a single worry. Hannah.
The landscape of his homeland blurred around him as he pushed his horse faster and faster until the hooves were practically on the steps of the Keep itself.
Guards were rushing all about, searching the grounds for any sign of Alan and his men.
Magnus leapt down and, without breaking stride, raced into the Keep and headed for the stairs.
All his mind could echo was please be okay, please be okay, please be okay.
His hands pushed open the bedchamber doors with enough force to make the wood bounce off the wall.
His eyes scanned around the room that was still bathed in daylight, his heart going completely still as he took in the empty room.
She wasn’t there… Maybe just maybe she had taken a stroll?
But he knew it was his foolish mind latching onto hope.
Which felt all too true when he noticed the wash basin.
It was still full, but no one was in it. And there was water splashed all around the floor to the side of it, one large puddle giving way to splatters and droplets. A struggle had happened there.
Pacing over, he touched the surface of the water and found it to still be lukewarm.
Whatever had happened, it wasn’t too long ago.
His eyes panned around for any clue and just when he was about to call for guards to search the room, he saw something else out of place.
There was a folded piece of parchment against the pillows on the bed.
He felt his entire body move on instinct, his mind blank as he rushed to the bed and snatched the letter from its spot. His heart was pounding in his ears as he unfolded it.
Your wife is alive for now. Meet me where we used to play. Alone.
Magnus’s legs felt weak for the first time since he was a lad.
All of his fears and worries were made real in just two sentences of ink on parchment.
Alan had taken Hannah and was holding her hostage.
And the words that seared into his flesh were for now.
He knew his brother too well and whatever game he had been playing all along, Hannah was a valuable but disposable pawn to him.
Alan also wasn’t known for his patience or mercy—so if there was any chance to save her, Magnus had to act fast.
And then he was running. Not hurrying or sprinting, but running as hard as he could back through the Keep.
He didn’t say a word to anyone, even when warriors called after him, asking if they should follow.
As he threw himself back onto his horse, Angus took hold of the reins and held it firmly until Magnus met his eyes.
“Where are ye going?” Angus asked.
“Stay here. I’ll be back with my wife,” Magnus said tightly as he snatched the reins away.
And without another moment’s hesitation, he kicked the horse into movement and rode toward the woods at the back of the estate.
Alan had to be at the old training grounds, the ones that had been abandoned a couple of generations ago and the forest had taken its claim on it.
It had been the only place in the world where Magnus and Alan had ever gotten along.
Sparring as children, shaking hands after a good, clean fight.
Now, the place that had been the only home to good memories of his brother was tainted.
If Magnus didn’t do things properly, if he angered Alan too much, it would be the place that Hannah took her last breath. And he couldn’t let that happen.
Magnus rode as though the Devil himself was chasing him, praying to a God that he hadn’t spoken to in years to keep his wife safe until she could be back in his arms.