“I agree.” With his brothers at his side, Finlay fought. Sweat poured from his body while high above a tumultuous mass of dark, seething clouds blackened the sky and promised a storm unlike any other, a storm that raged right here on the land in equal measure.
“Finlay?” Arabel’s worried voice washed through his mind, her tone filled with panic and fear.
“I’m here.” He struck his opponent hard and his hit brought the MacKenzie warrior to his knees. He knocked him out with the hilt of his sword then met his next attacker who jumped over his comrade. He slashed, attacked, fast and hard.
“Behind you,” she screamed. “A MacKenzie has snuck around.”
He spun about, and his enemy struck his ribs with his blade. Pain ricocheted through him and he staggered back from the brutal sword blow. Damn bloodthirsty MacKenzies. They fought dirty, not meeting a man head on. Breath ragged, he shoved to his feet and gripped his side. No blood, but his cotun had been sliced open. A lucky break. “Keep your eyes on both sides,” he shouted to his brothers then sprang forward and fought.
Weapons clashed then he ducked the MacKenzie’s next high strike, rammed into him with one shoulder and took him down to the ground. The man hit his head on a rock and knocked himself out.
“I said you were no’ allowed to come to any harm, Finlay.”
“How did you know a warrior had snuck—damn it. Where are you?” He searched the cliff-side trail and found her. Arabel sat atop a horse next to Isla, the forest rising high behind them. “You should never have come.”
“I’m your mate and where you go, I shall go. Kenneth comes. Keep your eyes on the fight until he does.”
Beyond the breakers, their Matheson warriors plunged their oars into the sea and powered their vessel in. Kenneth pumped his fist into the air and ordered his men to lower the sail. They crested a large wave, cruised in and rushed ashore and into the melee.
“Stay where you’re safe, Arabel. I won’t lose you.”
“As I won’t lose you.”
Another MacKenzie came at him and he shoved his blade high and met the fierce blow. He and his opponent matched each other in height and breadth, although that was no equal standing for the battle lust storming through his body. This was Matheson land, and the MacKenzies wouldn’t be allowed to take the villagers’ lives. He struck, landing several hard blows, one after the other then with one powerful strike of his claymore, knocked the man’s sword away.
The warrior grabbed his dirk, his aim on course for between Finlay’s eyes.
He ducked the dagger as it flew, kicked the warrior’s feet out from under him then jumped back as fire rippled across the grass and licked at the MacKenzie warrior’s clothing. The man bellowed and ran into the waves.
“Arabel, I said to stay where you’re safe.”
“I’m your mate and I will fight at your side.” She rushed toward him, fire flaring from her fingertips and her blond hair streaming back from the raging winds circling them. She struck the MacKenzie battling Iain and the two fighting Kirk. All three of their enemy swatted the fire licking at their legs and sprinted into the water, just as his attacker had done.
Well, it appeared he’d underestimated his woman. She wielded one of the fiercest of the battle skills and he shouldn’t have forgotten that. Still, he stepped in front of her and shielded her from any coming attacker. There wasn’t a chance he’d lose her.
“Step aside for a moment.” She ducked out from behind him and sent another arc of fire at another MacKenzie.
“Isla, get back!” Iain bellowed as he eyed Isla atop her horse.
“You need me,” she yelled and rode along the warring front, her compelling voice strong. “All will cease fighting and listen to me well and true! Those warriors here from the MacKenzie clan will drop your weapons.”
Their enemy’s swords clattered to the ground, so swiftly Finlay gaped. Their women were strong.
“I’ll be back as soon as I’ve contained my mate. She’s impossible sometimes.” Iain slapped Finlay’s back then raced toward Isla and bounded onto the back of her mount and swept the reins from her. He half bent over her, protecting her as best as he could should anything fly toward her.
Still, Isla wouldn’t be halted. Her compelling voice rang loud and clear even with Iain’s looming. “Hear me well, MacKenzies. You’ll gather your fallen and leave these shores. Your fight is done this day and you’ve lost the battle. Board your vessels and don’t look back.”
The MacKenzie warriors heaved their fallen comrades over their shoulders and stumbled toward their galleys.
“We were wrong to keep them away.” Kirk sheathed his sword.
“Go,” Isla commanded the MacKenzies. “Flee, as fast as you can, and know that the Mathesons are the ‘Son of the Bear.’ No one will take what is ours.”