Page 79 of Highlander’s Haunted Past

Rob cursed and pulled out his own sword. Hugh had gone mad; that was clear to see. Hugh lunged for Rob first, trying to take advantage of the time it would take for Rob to settle into a fencing stance, but Rob had been the one who had taught Hugh that move. He wasn’t about to fall for it himself.

He countered Hugh’s strikes with his own, with Ellen screaming for them to stop just behind him. She knew it as well as the brothers did; Hugh was no match for Rob with a sword. Rob drove his sword down onto Hugh’s with all of his might, knocking the blade from his brother’s hand. Then, he twisted his sword up and slashed across Hugh’s front, creating a gash that crossed him diagonally from hip to shoulder. It wasn’t deep enough to kill him, but it sure would keep him out of Rob’s way.

Hugh crumpled down onto the dock, crying out in agony, as Rob rushed forward, throwing his sword aside just as he dove.

The coldness of the water slammed against him, crushing into him from every angle. With the sky so gray above him, there was hardly any way for him to see beneath the water’s surface. All he could do was kick down toward the bottom and flail madly around him, hoping to find Kenna through pure dumb luck.

Please, Kenna, please let me find ye.

Then, slipping across his fingertips, he swore he felt a bit of cloth. He swam toward it, fighting the current and reaching his hands out in that direction. Then, yes, it was. He grabbed hold of the cloth and followed it until he found her, Kenna, her body thrashing as she tugged at something tied around her neck.

Rob reached out and pulled her hands away from whatever it was, placing his fingers between her neck and the small cord and pulling with all of his might. The cord gave with a pleasing snap, but Kenna did not start swimming to the surface. She had stopped moving altogether.

Rob grabbed her and kicked up off the bottom of the riverbed, kicking his feet like mad while he held onto his bride, the pair of them satisfying through the surface of the water with a loud gasp. Or at least Rob gasped; Kenna just lay still in his arms.

Rob did his best to swim to shore, allowing the current to carry him a little downstream, to a place where the river was surrounded by dense forest—Hugh would never be able to hike out there in his current condition. As he swam, he begged for Kenna to take a breath, giving her gentle shakes and the occasional pound to the back to try and dislodge the water in her throat that was keeping her from breathing.

By the time they reached the shallows, Kenna’s lips were starting to turn blue. Rob stumbled to regain his footing on his numbed legs, but he kept moving forward, dragging Kenna along behind him. When they finally reached the riverbank, Rob pulled her up onto the grass and pounded on her chest once, then twice, and then, when he was raising his hand for a third strike, she started to cough and splutter, the river water escaping from her lips.

“Kenna, Kenna, come on, say something.”

“Hugh…”She gasped. “Hugh and Ellen. They did this.”

“I ken, I ken. But, Kenna, we have to go. I have no way to warm ye up out here. Try and hold onto me, please hold on.”

Rob hoisted Kenna into his arms and began to run, his cold and aching joints tense and resistant. But he couldn’t let them slow him down—if he did, Kenna would die. Her skin was already turning a pale shade of blue, her shivers so violent that she nearly bucked herself out of his grasp. The only thing that could slow him down now would be Hugh, but he and Ellen had to have retreated to the castle by now.

Rob slipped through the trees with as much grace as he could, though he caught himself stumbling over tall brush on more than one occasion, each time only barely maintaining his footing. Finally, the trees thinned, and he catapulted himself out and onto the cleared field, the dock now just to his side. The path back up to Dounie was rough and winding, but it was at least familiar.

“Hold on, Kenna, we are almost there.”

Kenna’s shivering had started to slow, but not in a good way. She was growing weak. Her body was starting to surrender to an inevitable death. Her eyes, so wide and frightful, were starting to drop, their perfect blueness starting to turn dull and glassy.

“No, no, no, Kenna, stay awake, stay with me. Help!” Rob shouted as they approached the castle gates. “Anybody!”

Florence, the castle smith right behind her, came running from the gates. Her look, so full of horror, only became more frightful when she saw Kenna in his arms.

“She’s freezing to death,” Rob said, though the words came out in choking sputters. How long had he been crying?

“The forge,” the smith said. “‘tis the closest fire to here.”

Rob nodded and followed the smith, rushing Kenna into the tiny forge and setting her directly in front of the blazing flames. Florence rushed forward, opening her cloak and pulling Kenna underneath it with her, giving her access to her own body heat.

“Rob,” Florence said, “what the devil is going on? Hugh just came back all bloodied and ye two look frozen half to death—”

“Hugh—where did he go?” Rob asked, feeling that the only thing that mattered now was to make sure the bastard did not get away.

“Father’s solar. Ellen said that it was important to tell Father what… Where are you going? Rob!” Florence called after him as he went tearing from the forge at full speed.

A few observers had started to emerge from the castle’s rooms, all fascinated by the sudden chaos in the castle. Rob shoved past them, calling for them all to get out of his way. Those who listened were lucky; those who didn’t were shoved mercilessly aside.

Rob reached the solar and threw open the door with so much force that it split against the stone wall.

Ellen looked up at him, startled. She was sitting in front of the fire, pressing a thick piece of linen against Hugh’s stomach.

“Rob, good to see ye,” Hugh said with a weak smile. “How was yer swim? Oh, and how is Lady Kenna?”

Rob circled the room, ignoring the eyes that were on him as he moved. When he reached his father’s desk, he shoved a few papers aside, sending some skittering to the floor as he brushed them away. Finally, his fingers closed around the cold metal handle, and he lifted the small blade up so that it could be seen in the light of the fire. It was a fairly short dirk and a bit dull, but it would do the trick on such short notice.