"He will not likely come alone. And he'll be heavily armed if he thinks I'm violent."

"Do you have a better idea?" she asked in challenge but kept her voice low.

"Aye, you pretend to hit me and knock me down. He'll think I hit my head on the wall. My head already has a lump on it, so 'tis believable. You scream hysterically. They won't see you as much a threat. They'll think I'm unconscious or dead and come in. Then we'll disarm them. If there are two of them, you'll need to be careful."

"Very well."

"Let's get into a mock fight," he whispered. "Come on, throw a few punches."

Out of nowhere, her hand flew up. The slap cracked against his face.

"Ouch." His cheek stung and a resounding pain shot through his head from the earlier injury. "Do you have to be so damned enthusiastic?"

"You told me to."

"Not hard," he whispered.

"Weak lad!"

"Och. Come on, show me what you've got, wee wench."

She shoved lightly at his chest and he toppled backward in a controlled fall, though he tried to make it look real in the event someone spied through the opening in the door.

Angelique screamed, the deafening sound intense in the confined space. "I've killed him! I've killed him!"

"What the devil is going on?" The guard growled from the passage.

"I've killed my own husband! But he deserved it! The unfaithful swine."

That was a bit much. Lachlan watched the door through eyes narrowed to slits. One guard entered, halting just inside the door, a torch in one hand, a dagger in the other, and his sword still in the scabbard. Angelique crouched in a corner, pretending to weep. "I did not mean to kill him. I shoved him. He fell and cracked his skull on the wall."

After wedging the torch between two rocks in the wall, the guard inched closer and nudged Lachlan with his foot. When Lachlan didn't move or even breathe, the man bent over him. Lachlan grabbed the guard's knife hand, shoving the blade toward his chest, and grasped the hilt of his sword at the same time. The guard jerked back, cursing, and dropped the knife. Lachlan took possession of both weapons.

"What's happening?" A second guard entered the cell.

Angelique sprang from behind the door and bashed the empty chamber pot against his head. He slumped to the floor.

The first guard backed toward the exit.

"Halt!" Rising, Lachlan motioned with the tip of the sword toward the back corner. "Over there."

When the man obeyed, Lachlan leapt over the other guard and joined Angelique in the corridor. She locked the cell door.

The first guard yelled. Lachlan closed the small opening at the top of the door, muffling his cries.

Footsteps and voices advanced toward them down the dim corridor lit by a lone torch.

"Hell. Kormad's men," Lachlan said.

"I am ready." Angelique held a dagger.

"Where did you get that?"

"From the second guard."

"Have a care." Damnation, what if he couldn't kill them all and protect her? Nausea clutched at him when he imagined the horrors she would endure if he died. Rape, torture, death. He simply could not fail.

Wielding the sword in one hand and the knife in the other, Lachlan confronted the first of Kormad's men. The large, leather-clad bastard charged him, sword slamming against Lachlan's. The impact traveled up his arm, clashing steel deafening in the confined space. Fortunately, the passage was so narrow two men could not fight abreast. He knocked the sword from the man's hand and quickly ran him through. Battle fury raced hot through his veins.

The second man stepped over the body and attacked. Once he fell, Lachlan turned his attention to the next in line. He and two others hung back, their eyes wide in the dimness.

Someone charged in from outside, behind the men. A battle cry arose.

Rebbie? Indeed it was. And Dirk backed him. Clanging blades were a blur of motion.

Lachlan engaged the enemy closest to him. The man stumbled and fell. Lachlan smashed the sword's basket hilt against his head, knocking him out.

"Lachlan! You live." Rebbie slapped him on the shoulder. "Come!"

"How many outside?"

"None. We dispensed with them."

"I thank you." Lachlan took Angelique's hand, keeping her close by his side. "Where are the rest of our men?"

"Two or three were killed," Rebbie said. "The others, we know not what happened to them. 'Twas chaos. When we saw Fingall and the other man bring Angelique through the gates, we knew we had to act quickly."

Outside, Dirk held three of Kormad's horses.

Another guard charged around the corner. "Help her mount," Lachlan said to Dirk, then engaged in swordplay with the last man. He was fast and skilled.

More of Kormad's men poured down the distant castle steps. Where the hell did he get so many men?

"We must go now, Lachlan!" Dirk threw a stone at the man. It bounced off his shoulder, but that was enough to distract him. Lachlan's blade sliced his arm. Yelling curses, the enemy retreated.

Lachlan leapt onto the bareback horse behind Angelique and followed Rebbie's and Dirk's mounts at a fast gallop out the unmanned, open gates.

"Follow them!" someone shouted from behind.

***

Hoof beats thundered behind them on the race toward Draughon.

"Damned whoresons!" Lachlan held Angelique tightly before him on the horse and glanced back. Two of Kormad's men gave chase.

Draughon's iron gates came into view. "Open the gates!" Lachlan yelled.

The guards moved quickly, obeying his orders. The horses galloped through and into the empty bailey. The gates clanged shut behind them.

"Where is everyone? Were all the men killed?" Lachlan leapt down and helped Angelique dismount.

"I don't know," Rebbie said. "We took a dozen to Burnglen with us."

Since the secret passageways had been breached, Lachlan didn't know what to expect. Drawing his sword, he ran up the steps and yanked open the door to the crowded great hall.

Kormad and Girard jerked around to face him, their eyes bulging.

"What the hell are you two doing here?" Lachlan's first instinct was to gut Girard, then Kormad. But caution froze him to the spot. "Who allowed them entrance?" This was his and Angelique's home, and these knaves stood here as if they owned the place.

"Get Lady Angelique out of here!" one of his guards yelled. "They have turned everyone against you." He sat in the corner, his face bloody, hands behind his back.

Kormad smashed the man in the jaw with his fist, and he keeled over. "Well, that's one of your last loyal men, MacGrath. I'll let you guess who the other one is." Kormad chuckled.

Another guard in the room, apparently unharmed and free, averted his gaze. What about the guard at the gate outside…also a traitor? Or loyal? Several Drummagan clansmen, guards, and those holding other positions, stared at him with hard, accusing eyes. Where was Bryson, his sword bearer and war leader? And Heckie? How many had turned traitor?

Lachlan glanced behind himself to find Angelique standing before Rebbie and Dirk, safe for now, but wide-eyed and pale.

"You will leave now!" Lachlan commanded his enemies.

Kormad laughed. "The Drummagan clan kens of your misdeeds, MacGrath. 'Haps your wife doesn't know the whole of it yet. Murder. Rape."

"You thrice cursed whoreson!" Lachlan forced himself not to act on his impulses. He wanted to launch himself at Kormad, sword slicing. But they were greatly outnumbered. He backed toward Angelique.