Highland Warrior by Heather McCollum (the rosie project TXT) 📗

them back. She trembled, making him fear she was in shock. What did one do if someone was in shock? Keep them warm. Give them a sip of whisky. Damn, he wished his sister, Hannah, was there to help. “We should get ye to Hilda,” he said. “She will heal ye.”

“They will hunt me down at Hillside,” she said, and he watched her work at swallowing. “I cannot return there. Even gone, Robert might still ransack anywhere he thinks I could be. Henry said he hunts me for taking Hilda and Broch. But killing his son…”

Joshua caught her chin in his fingers. “Kára, ye had no choice but to defend yourself. And ye did not kill Robert’s son. I did.”

He pulled her back into his arms, willing his comfort and strength into her. “And Robert will not know, anyway. I will dispose of the bodies,” he said, looking toward the sea and then down over the rolling hills toward Birsay. Damn, treeless expanse. He’d have to work fast before the three were noticed missing.

“Come,” he said. “I will take ye to your den. No one will find ye there.”

“My brooches, sword, and mattucashlass are over there,” she said, pointing. They walked through the swaying grasses, Joshua continually scanning the terrain for more of Robert’s men or the earl himself.

He left her holding the rag to her head beside the chapel as he went to claim her items. The brooch was lodged in the temple of one warrior Joshua had known, a decent fellow when training, but easily swayed to evil, apparently. Joshua yanked the brooch out. After some time in the sea, no one would even be able to tell that he’d been pierced, if they even surfaced.

Joshua grabbed her short sword and then wiped the mattucashlass free of blood after yanking it from the other brute’s forehead. Kára was a damn good shot. Thank God, or she would likely be dead right now. The thought made his skin itch and his heart thump wildly, his untamed warrior fury threatening to take over his reasoning.

Nay, he could not storm into Robert’s palace and slaughter everyone. There would always be another Stuart, another stronger warlord to kick and suppress Kára’s people. He must convince her to leave Orkney. But first…

He went to her, shaking out her woolen gown and cloak. “Let us get ye warm,” he said, wrapping her in the cloak and pulling her into him again, using the chapel wall to block the wind. “But we need to leave before anyone finds us with them here.”

She nodded, her forehead brushing his chest, and raised her face to his. He hated the numbness he saw there, the trembling. Glancing up, she blinked. “I will help you clean up.”

“Nay. If someone comes upon this, ’tis better if they find only me. Nothing should tie ye to this.”

“Robert knows you are helping us after The Brute and Jean saw us at the palace.”

He leveled his gaze with hers, his brows raised. “I want ye safe and sound and warm, away from this. I can carry ye to your den.”

He saw the shine of unbidden tears in her eyes. It tore into him, and he had to guard against his grip tightening on her arms with his fury. It was all he could do not to run back over to Henry and slice him to bits.

Kára inhaled a shaky breath. Thank the Lord she couldn’t peer into his mind to see the bloody retribution he imagined. She nodded. “I can walk.”

Looking out across the empty moor hills, Joshua kept her tucked against him as they walked to the village below where Asmund was standing out before the tavern. Several other men from the village stood with him. They watched them approach, Asmund wringing his hands. “Dróttning,” he said.

“She needs to rest tucked away,” Joshua said.

Kára stood straighter before the men. “I am well.”

Joshua recognized one of the men who had tried to take Fuil the night he first saw Kára. “Ye have the ship in the harbor?”

“Aye.”

Joshua glanced back toward the chapel on the hill. “I have a job for ye.”

Chapter Fifteen

“He who wishes to fight must first count the cost.”

Sun Tzu – The Art of War

“Do not look cross at me,” Kára said, staring Joshua down where he stood in the path leading back into the village. “I told you I was not going to nap the day away.”

Joshua had left her in her den to help the ship’s captain load the bodies onto his boat to carry out and dump in the sea. She’d waited a full hour, warming herself, rubbing some liniment on her neck bruises, and putting a sticky poultice on her head wound, before walking the short distance back toward Asmund’s tavern.

She walked past Joshua, deciding that a cup of Asmund’s mead would bolster her even more.

Joshua’s boots crunched the pebbles behind her. “If ye wobble with dizziness or grow pale, I will lift ye and carry ye back there. I have seen men hit their heads and die days later or go about puking and dizzy for weeks before the world righted itself in their heads.”

“I feel completely well.” A lie. Her throat ached, her voice still hoarse, and her scalp burned where the poultice worked. “I will not hide away when there is work to be done to help my family.” She glanced past him toward the chapel. “Did you send the horses away?”

“I rode one, leading the other two, about two miles past the chapel. If I have a chance, I will lead them farther once I retrieve Fuil.”

She pushed through Asmund’s door, Joshua right on her heels. Her friend stood behind the bar. Relief washed over his familiar grumpy face, and he came around. He bowed his head before wrapping her in a quick hug. “I went to help the Highlander clean up on the hill and saw what ye had to do to defend yourself,” he whispered and nodded. “Your father