Branded by a Warrior (2 page)

Everything around them was
burning to the ground
; smoke billowed from every thatched roof.
Bodies
covered every inch of the bailey, the moans of the dying echoed across the cold night sky.

More
than an hour after the attack began
,
it
was clear to Duncan and Elisabeth the battle had been lost; the Douglas clan far outnumbered the surviving Drummond clan.

Duncan grabbed her and ran towards the burning stables, under the mask of the billowing smoke
he pulled her towards his frightened warhorse
.

Duncan ordered her flee without him, to survive, there was no way of winning the night.
He refused to allow her to continue fighting, instead, he begged her to
escape and seek help from the
neighboring clan to the north.
Duncan refused to leave his father’s castle, instead he wanted his little sister to leave him behind and escape before Kincaid got his hands on her.
He extracted a promise out of her in the last minutes o
f his life, to run, to survive, to find Laird Broderick MacMillan.

Elisabeth had
vehemently
argued with her brother, she wanted
to stay and fight by his side, she was not afraid to die.
She refused to leave him behind, pleading with him to escape with her.
Duncan’s words broke her heart as he begged her to go.
He reminded her that Kincaid would not
kill
her;
death would be t
o
o
swift of punishment for her. Kincaid
would torture a
nd do unspeakable things to her; he would keep her alive so he could punish her every day of her life. Duncan refused to allow his only sister a life of being raped and beaten daily, he begged her with his entire heart to flee into the north woods.

It was hi
s last wish to see her survive.

Duncan had quickly kissed her on the forehead, “I love you Elisabeth Rosslyn Drummond, promise me you’ll ride like the devil to Broderick?”

Noddi
ng as tears welled in her eyes, “and I’ll love you foreve
r my Brother, I will
find him,” hugging him tightly, knowing this would be the last time she would ever see him again.

Quickly thr
owing her onto
his warhorse, Duncan
slapped
the horse on the ass sending it galloping toward the hidden tunnel in the dead of
night.

Spurring the horse she galloped away towards the
hidden
entrance
know only to her family
.
Turning to look at
him one last time, she saw a solid
group of Douglas warriors
advance
on her brother. A goliath of a man charged at Duncan with his
battle-axe.

In a blur, looking over her shoulder as
her horse galloped towards the
hidden
entrance
she saw h
er beloved brother cut down by the
gigantic
Douglas
warrior
. H
er scream pierced the night air as tears ran down her face
as she watched him drop in horror
.
In shock, blinded by tears,
she was
completely num
b when she heard the battle cry. A
searing p
ain ripped through her shoulder and chest
as a Douglas warrior rode past her, delivering a grave wound
with his broadsword
.
Instinct kicked in as she righted herself in the saddle, spinning around she eyed the bald warrior who was turning his horse back towards her.
Holding herself steady in the saddle, she strung her
trusty
bow a
nd shot, piercing the
warrior’s
heart, dropping him to the ground.
Her shoulder screamed in pain as she lowered her bow, clasping her hand over the wound she looked back at Duncan.

Taking one last look at her beloved brother dead on the cold winter ground, she looked over her burning
village
and castle one last time. The smell of death and smoke filled her lungs as tears stung her eyes.
She could hear screams of pain and victory cries float into the cold night sky. Her eyes stung from the smoke and tears; coughing on the thick clouds of smok
e she spurred her horse onward before she was f
ound
. It would only be a matter of time before Kincaid realized she was not among the dead. She did not doubt he would search each body looking for her. Soon enough his men would be after her.

Riding through the long ivy, she galloped through
the
small tunnel as she left the burning castle behind her.
She had nothing left. No home, no family, no clan, all were lost. 

Elisabeth felt
the warm blood running down her shoulder and
over
her breasts
.
The wound had been
the worst she had ever taken
;
ignoring the pain she lowered herself in the saddle and rode through the tight tunnel.
Galloping away from the burning village, she
struggled to wrap
her
shoulder
with a strip of her tartan;
she knew
she’d bleed out if she didn’t
stop the blood flow
. She had no idea how fa
r MacMillan castle actually was, no knowledge of how long it would take her to traverse the snowy landscape north towards Broderick’s isolated castle nestled in the mountains.
She only knew the general direction.

Galloping through the tunnel and out the secret exit into the northern forest, she urged her mount
more rapidly into
the night
.
Brushing the tears off her face she vowed to avenge every soul that died here tonight, s
he would see Kincaid die by her hand.
He would pay for what he had done, and this time he would not walk away. He had taken the only thing she had ever truly loved, her family.

Elisabeth Rosslyn Drummond w
ould see justice for her people
or die avenging them.
Promising herself she’d spend the rest of her life fulfilling revenge upon Kincaid and his men, she rode long and hard through the dark northern forest
.

With her heart set on killing Kincaid with her own hands, she knew b
efore revenge could be sought,
she would honor her brother’s last wish and find Broderick
, her clans’
long ally.
Riding with the cold snow i
n her face, she stampeded north, unsure if she was being followed or if Kincaid had placed men outside the castle.
She was paranoid and nervous, she had no weapons left, no strength to fight, and the forest shadows played tricks on her tired mind.

Continually looking over her shoulder for someone following her, Elisabeth urged her mount
faster. Tears for the fallen fell down her face as she held the reins tight, her beloved parents and brother were gone. Murdered in cold blood by a power hungry Laird who wanted
her
.
Why? Why did he have to kill the babes, the women and defenseless children who slept peacefully in their beds?

After the first full day
of riding
north
, the sun had
come
up and
her speed slowed
considerably due to her injury. T
he
blood loss and sleepless night
was slowing costing her life. Duncan’s strong horse marched through the deep snow due north as Elisabeth
continued to mourn
her family.
She had gone from rage to sadness, agony to anger as
she
rode in the eerie forest.
Morning and afternoon soon slipped back into night as she traversed the rugged terrain.

She had never experienced pain or sorrow of this
magnitude;
the deep heartache tore
through
her as she
continued
to ride.
The sights and sounds she heard that day would
stay
with her soul forever, when she closed her eyes she could see their faces. The smell of burning flesh and the screams of the dying haunted her.

Thirsty
and in severe agony, she had never sustained an injury of this magnitude before. The blood loss was draining her as she continued to ride north.
She
was unprepared
for her ride to Castle MacMillan
and weak, both things she had never experienced before. Elisabeth was used to having Duncan with her when she rode out of her
castle;
she had never ridden alone
before.
Sure she had taken short jaunts outside her castle alone, but never had she ridden so far unescorted. Scotland was a treacherous place for a lady unaccompanied, even her.
With no one to talk to but herself, she prayed she could find Castle MacMillan before the massive snowstorm caught her.

The pain
managed to
keep
h
er awake through the second day
of riding north
, the screaming agony of her wound refused to let her sleep
.
For two days she had been upon Duncan’s stallion and
had yet to di
smount the horse. In her weakened condition she was afraid she wouldn’t be able to get
back in the saddle.
She was weak and tired, her eyelids felt like iron as she swayed in her saddle.
Many times she had caught herself slipping off the saddle when fatigue claimed her.
Thirsty and hungry, she
struggled to stay
in the saddle, as the tired horse kept moving.

Over the past days she kept her ear out for any sign of being followed
, she was
positive that
if
anyone had followed her, they would have caught her by now
.
The heavy snow following her must have kept her tracks hidden enough to deter Kincaid and his trackers.
She was traveling far too slow to outrun a healthy
warrior; any strong rider would have easily overtaken her
.
Without a weapon, she was at the mercy of the land. She couldn’t defend herself against human or animal attack if need be.
She had no arrows; her
bow had fallen off her days ago.
Wounded and weak, she prayed for a miracle as she struggled to remain on the horse.

Elisabeth was near
ing
death’s door
as each hour passed
, she could
sense it surrounding her.
She thought of seeing her family again, hugging them and kissing their faces. The thought of be reunited with them made her smile.
U
nable to keep her eyes open
,
she struggled to stay conscious
, she came in and out of the dream world in a haze
.
A
colossal
winter storm had arrived
in the Highlands with full force
; the freezing
winds and
bitter coldness
rattled her bones.
Her thin tunic and tartan plaid did little to shield her from the
bone chilling
cold
of the Highland mountains
.
Praying the castle was close by;
she bundled up as best she could and focused on
surviving
.

At three and twenty she had traveled this far north
once;
it had been many years ago, the landscape had changed so much. The forest and trails all seemed to blend together under a fresh blanket of snow. She was
lost; coming in and out of consciousness had made her disoriented
, she was no longer sure what direction she traveled in.
She had been so used to her brother navigating their paths, she had never had memorized the path to Castle MacMillan.

Opening her eyes, she scanned the horizon; h
er long red hair blew in the wind as she searched for familiar
landmarks. Night was again nearing and she saw no sign of civilization in her view. She thought about Laird MacMillan
as she scanned the silent forest.
Broderick was older than her by six
years;
he and Duncan were the same age. She met him five years ago, and it had not
gone
overly well.

Remembering the awful rift between Broderick and Duncan that brought her t
hrough this forest once before. A fight over a woman
had brought the two powerful men
close to war, along with their clans. Elisabeth
had ridden deep into these
lands to stop the
escalating
fight between the prideful men.