The Highlander's Triumph by Eliza Knight Read Free Book Online Page A

of pain.
    Blood rushed to his ears and all thoughts but that of fighting for his country —and winning—left him.
    He wasted no time jumping into the fray. Yanking his claymore from the scabbard on his back, he swung it in an arc bringing it down on the closest enemy, droplets of warm blood spraying his face. Brandon turned off the sensation, making his mind blank to everything save the task at hand. He ducked the blow from a new opponent, pulling his sgian dubh from his boot and slicing into the back of the man’s knees. His foe fell to the ground, howling in pain, briefly clutching his leg, before coming to his senses and blocking Brandon’s next swipe of his sword. The man, incapacitated, could no longer harm anyone. Brandon leapt from his range of attack and pummeled the next man to the ground, head-butting him to knock him out.
    The battle raged around him. Ronan went head to head with two warriors while Laird Ross hung back, the bastard. His eyes blazed with evil, lips peeled back, baring yellowed and crooked teeth. He half expected to see horns sprouting from Ross’ weathered-looking head. But there were none—not that he could see anyway. Brandon sprang forward, catching Ross off guard, but not for long. The old warrior parried like a vicious bear, growls and all, but before Brandon could land a significant blow, two Ross men attacked him from behind—one landing a solid blow to the back of Brandon’s shoulder. He hissed in pain, feeling the heat of his own blood seep over his skin.
    In th e instant he turned from Ross to end the lives of his attackers, the bastard disappeared. And with him Julianna. Ronan called out to her, panic in his tone, and Brandon felt his pain, having had to push off his search for Mariana in an effort to aid his men.
    But there was no time to think on it. Several more warriors pushed through the trees, their battle cries making Brandon want to rip out their throats. He moved swiftly toward them, fury burning a heightened energy through his muscles. He let his anger and worry over Mariana out in a heated storm.
    At last, most of their enemy fell . The few remaining rushed back toward where they came from, perhaps looking for their leader. Not nearly two hundred had attacked, which meant there were far more of them somewhere close by. They had to move or risk another attack.
    Ronan rushed toward them, sweat slickening his face. He glanced at Brandon, his eyes scrunched in alarm. “Julianna! Have ye seen her?”
    Brandon shook his head, as did the other warriors with him . There was no sight of her within the copse of trees. She’d simply vanished.
    “He’s taken her!” Ronan shouted , face stricken.
    Was it possible? Brandon wasn’t certain when Ross had disappeared. He thought back, long and hard. Julianna had disappeared around that time —he’d seen her, but been pulled back into battle. Damn, he should have warned Ronan then, but there’d been no time.
    “I do recall seeing her disappear around the same time as Ross,” Brandon offered, but Ronan wasn’t listening. He frantically lifted the limp bodies, tossing them aside, ’haps looking for a clue.
    Brandon glanced back toward their camp, itching to run through it to see if Mariana was there. If the bastard had taken Julianna, it was entirely possibly he’d grabbed Mariana, too.
    Ronan took off running toward where many of Laird Ross’ men had escaped, calling out for Julianna. Brandon swallowed hard, and turned back toward camp. He had to reassure himself with the presence of Mariana’s face—and dispel the thoughts crowding into his mind. What if she’d escaped to the burn—told Ross where to find Julianna?
    Part of him knew that had to be impossible. There was no way she would have known where they were going to set up camp, nor did she have the opportunity to get word to Ross. Unless… Unless what? It was impossible. He had to stop making assumptions.
    He looked up through the trees and stared at the sky just