Page 63 of Enchantment of a Highlander

Save the women and the children.

Yes, she could do this.

For the first time in her life, she would be brave.

• • •

Blood and fear stained the moist air with its metallic odor. The once quiet streets swirled with chaos.

Filthy men in tattered clothing descended upon the villagers, at least thirty by Alec’s count. An unfair war against the unarmed innocent.

His body burned with the kind of energy necessary to fight a battle.

“Da!” A high-pitched wail sounded to Alec’s left. An outlaw’s back faced him, sword lifted with purpose.

Alec charged, his muscles flaring. He balled his fists around the hilt and drove his blade into the man’s neck. The outlaw stiffened and gurgled the cry of his death.

He fell gracelessly to the sand and revealed a small boy who stared up at Alec with round eyes. Blood spattered the lad’s pale face and his lower lip quivered.

“Get inside and bolt the door, lad,” Alec said sharply. Movement at his right caught his attention. He shoved the boy toward the nearest cottage before spinning to face the attacking outlaw.

Alec lifted his blade, deflecting the blow aimed at his neck. A panicked shout tore through the air. Men from the village had emerged from their homes to fight back, to defend their families.

Alec’s chest ached at the horrendous imbalance of what they fought with versus what they were up against. The villager’s movements were clumsy with desperation and lack of experience.

Despite their bravery, they were cut down all too easily.

Alec lunged left and waited for his opponent to lift his arms for a kill strike. His opportunity came quickly and he drove the blade into the man’s chest. The mortal wound would not warrant additional attention, not when every second could mean the difference between life or another death.

The black blade glistened where it sucked from the man’s chest.

A woman’s cries shrieked above the sound of battle behind him.

He turned and found an outlaw lying atop a woman whose face was hidden beneath her flipped skirts. Her naked white legs kicked uselessly beneath the man’s weight. Alec’s vision narrowed and everything inside him exploded with hot white rage.

He didn’t remember running across the street, but he did remember the wet smack of his blade clearing through the man’s skull. The man fell still and the woman’s screams pitched. Alec kicked the body off her and tugged her skirts down before turning toward the village center once more.

His heart slammed in hard, steady beats. There weren’t thirty outlaws as he’d suspected. There were more. Maybe fifty or sixty.

Too damn many of them against men trained to be fishermen. There were no warriors in the village, no men to offer protection.

Alec tightened his grasp on the blade and jogged toward a bald outlaw attempting to pry open a cottage door. The fight might not be in his favor, but Alec was determined to see his villagers saved.

He brought his blade down toward the man’s chest, but the blow was deflected by a hidden dagger. A stale odor emanated from the man’s filthy clothing.

“Ye’re going to have to do better than that.” The outlaw flashed Alec a grin that displayed a gap where he was missing both front teeth.

His sword whipped toward Alec, but he darted back before the tip could bite into his abdomen.

A flash of white blonde hair showed between the houses a distance away. Alec’s steady heartbeat flew into an erratic rhythm.

Celia.

The man grunted and pushed the point of his dagger toward Alec, this time catching the fabric of his leine.

Celia was a distraction that could cost him his life, yet he couldn’t turn away.

She glanced right and left, then darted toward the door of a cottage with a string of children and women behind her. Alec kept her in his peripheral vision and doubled his efforts against the outlaw, slashing his weapon with all the force his body would allow.