Highland Savage Read Free

inching closer.
    Taking advantage of everyone’s shock at seeing what they thought was a ghost, Lucas leapt to his feet, grabbed his saddle-packs, and bolted for the door. He gained the outside and turned toward the stable only to stumble to a halt as someone grabbed his robe from behind. Cursing, he turned and kicked the man in the face. Knowing he would not make it to his horse in time, Lucas tossed aside his saddle-packs and yanked off his robes. By the time Ranald and his friends had finished stumbling out of the inn, Lucas was facing them with a sword in one hand and a dagger in the other.
    “So, it is ye,” said Ranald as he drew his sword and he and his companions moved to stand facing Lucas. “Ye are supposed to be dead. We threw ye off the cliff and saw ye just lying there.”
    “And ye ne’er went back to see if I stayed there, did ye,” Lucas said, his scorn clear to hear in his voice.
    “Why trouble ourselves? We had beaten ye soundly, ye were bleeding from several wounds, and we threw ye off a cliff.”
    Lucas shrugged. “I got up and went home,” he said, knowing his family would groan to hear him describe the many travails he had gone through to return to Donncoillin such simple terms.
    “Weel, ye willnae be crawling home this time, laddie.”
    “Nay, I intend to ride home in triumph, leaving your bodies behind me to rot in the dirt.”
    “I dinnae think so.” Ranald sneered as he glanced at Lucas’s left leg. “I watched ye run out of the inn and ye limp and stumble like an old mon. We left ye a cripple, didnae we.”
    Lucas fought down the rage that threatened to consume him. He had to exact his revenge coldly, had to fight with a clear head and think out every move he made. It was this man’s fault that Lucas could no longer move with the speed and grace he had before, and it was hard not to just lunge at the man and cut him down. Before the beating he would have not been all that concerned about the other men, knowing he could turn on them with equal speed and have a good chance of defeating them all. Now, because of these men, he had to weigh his every move carefully if he had any hope of coming out of this alive.
    “E’en that wee wound willnae stop me from killing ye,” Lucas said, his voice almost cheerful even as he noted with a twinge of dismay how the men began to slowly encircle him.
    “Still arrogant,” said Ranald, grinning as he shook his head. “Weel, soon ye will be joining your wee whore in the cold clay.”
    “So, Annie spoke true when she said Lady Katerina was dead.”
    “Aye, she joined ye or so we thought. Tossed her right o’er the cliff and into the water with ye.”
    That made no sense to Lucas, but he pushed his sudden confusion and all the questions it raised aside. How and why Katerina had died was of no importance at the moment. Staying alive had to be his only priority. A quick glance toward the inn revealed a white-faced Annie and several other Haldanes watching and listening, but Ranald spoke too low for them to hear what was a clear confession. Lucas had to hope that, if he failed to win this fight, they would find out what happened to Katerina, although why he should care about that was just another puzzle he had no time to solve.
    “I dinnae suppose ye have the courage to face me mon to mon, without all your men to protect your worthless hide,” Lucas said as he braced himself for the battle to come.
    “Are ye calling me a coward?” Ranald snarled.
    “Ye needed near a dozen men to capture me, beat me nigh unto death, and toss me off a cliff, and then ye murdered a wee unarmed lass. Aye, I believe I am calling ye a coward and weel do ye deserve the name.”
    “’Twill be a joy to kill ye, fool.”
    Glancing around at the men encircling him, Lucas had the sinking feeling that it would also be a quick killing, but then he stiffened his backbone. He had been in such tight spots before and come out nearly unscathed. All he needed to do was regain