Elise stepped through the doorway. "Enough!"
The command rang through the stone chamber, quieting the group.
The brute blinked. "Who might you be?"
"Let her go," she ordered.
He shared an amused look with his comrades, then lifted Jinny from his lap and rose.
"Go along, Jinny," Elise said.
The girl whirled and fled out the postern door. The brute strode to where Elise stood.
He clasped his arms over his large chest and cocked his head to the side. "Now what?"
"You released her. Satisfy yourself you've escaped intact."
"I need a replacement." He reached for her.
In one long movement, Elise swung the pan, bringing the cast iron pot across his shoulder. Metal met muscle with a loud crack, and the blow sent the sizeable man tumbling to the floor. He lay sprawled on the floor, blinking up at her.
Elise stared down at him. "Try such nonsense again, and the next one will be across that thick Scots head of yours."
Howls of laughter filled the room from the brute's comrades. He pushed to his feet. "Seems you need a lesson, lassie."
"Nay, Declan," came Marcus's voice behind her.
Elise whirled. Marcus caught the hand holding the pan. She glimpsed Jinny near the kitchen door.
"You won't be needing this anymore." Marcus gently worked the pan free of her grasp.
She looked down at the pan and released it.
Declan grabbed for her, but Marcus pulled her to his side. "No touching the lass."
"But you saw what she did. I willna' hurt her." He gave her an appraising look. "Not really."
Elise shot him a recriminating look.
"You brought this on yourself," Marcus said.
"You aren't taking her side?"
"I am."
"Nay," he said in clear disbelief.
"Aye."
He gave Marcus a dubious look, then grumbled as he retreated to his seat, "Probably not worth the trouble, anyway."
Marcus placed the pan on the counter, then started for the great hall.
"Marcus," Elise said as he brushed past her.
He stopped and turned.
"Keep him away from Jinny."
Marcus reached for the pitcher of ale sitting on the table before him and Declan and refilled their glasses. "How many cattle were stolen?" Marcus set the pitcher back on the table. The man to his right snatched up the pitcher and passed it down the table to the men gathered for dinner.
"Thirty or forty head," Declan replied.
"Within two months?" Marcus gave a low whistle. "My guess is Campbells."
"Aye," Declan agreed. "But I havena' been able to catch the bastards in the act."
"We've had Campbells on our land of late."
"The bastards," Declan said with feeling. He picked up a piece of bread from one of the platters sitting before him and stuffed a piece into his mouth. "They get around, eh?" His eyes gleamed. "If it's a fight they're wanting, I'll oblige."
"That would be nothing to scoff at," Marcus said.
Declan's own men, plus extended relatives, rallied a force of six hundred men. Add the MacGregor forces, which numbered nearly twelve hundred, and they commanded a small army.
"I can't blame you for wanting to put an end to the foolishness," Marcus said, "but a little rustling isn't worth a war." Declan started to reply, but Marcus cut him off. "War it would be, Declan. There isn't a clan in the district who would pass up the chance to even the score against the Campbells."
"And the Campbells hold their own grudges," Declan put in. "They haven't forgiven you for your assault on Assipattle two years ago."
Marcus's jaw tightened. They had better not forget. He hadn't forgotten Katie MacGregor. "The next time they attack a MacGregor woman, I will raze every Campbell keep from the border to Assipattle."
Chapter Five
A branch snapped with a loud crack. Elise jerked her gaze onto her companion Allister, then twisted in the saddle and peered over her shoulder. A blur of green and blue plaide shot from the trees at the top of the hill. She gasped.
Campbells.
Elise faced Allister. The young man stared back at the Campbells, eyes narrow with fury. Dear God, she hadn't believed them to be a genuine threat, but in an effort to buy time when she didn't return to Brahan Seer, she had asked Allister to accompany her to Michael's. If anything happened to him—
He yanked the dirk from the leather scabbard strapped to his horse and snapped his eyes onto her. "Ride."
She kicked violently into the mare's belly. The mare lunged forward alongside Allister's gelding. The sound of pursuing hoof beats bore down upon them. She hugged the horse's neck, urging the mare into a harder gallop down the mountainside.