Chapter One

1580, Scotland
Morgana MacGregor closed her eyes and breathed deeply, drinking in the sounds and smells of the forest. She and her clansmen had stopped by a stream to rest and water their horses. The sound of the water burbling over the rocks was a much-needed salve to her wearied soul. She was on her way to Aberdeen to be gawked at and examined like cattle up for sale to the highest bidder. Laird Aberdeen had let it be known that he was interested in marriage and every eligible highborn daughter of age for miles around was being sent by their families for consideration.

May Heaven help the poor wee lass who catches his eye, the filthy mongrel.

Morgana nearly spat in disgust at the idea of being forced to marry such an uncouth swine of a man.

I will nae marry him, nae matter what anyone says.

She thought back to the last gathering of the clans, when she had been so unfortunate as to speak with the laird and shuddered in disgust. His breath had smelled of rot as he had bowed over her hand in courtesy. The words he spoke to her had settled little better, full of self-importance and a hint of perversion. Morgana opened her eyes with another shudder and rubbed her hand as if to remove the memory of his touch.

Stretching her back, she rolled her shoulders, attempting to get four days’ worth of muscle kinks from being on horseback to relax. Wandering downstream, she let the freedom of the forest ease her worried mind. Sunshine broke through the tree canopy overhead, dappling her skin with its spangled light and she reveled in the warmth of it.

I could stay here forever, she thought as a small smile played at the corners of her lips. A squirrel chattered at her from a nearby tree and she winked at its protestations. “Dinnae fash, wee one,” she reassured him. “I will be gone afore long. Just let me rest here a wee while, aye?” As if the squirrel had understood her, it stopped chattering and scurried away. Morgana laughed and continued walking.

“Me lady Morgana,” one of the guards called after her. “Dinnae stray too far. We will be leaving soon.”

Morgana raised a hand in acknowledgement. The men assigned to guard her were twice their normal number and vigilant to the point of annoyance, but she could not blame them. Her family had been through a great deal in recent years and had had their lives threatened more than once. Sighing, Morgana turned back toward her protectors, knowing that they were right to be concerned. A twig snapped behind her and she turned, expecting to see the displeased squirrel once more, only to find an angry faced, unkempt man looming over her. Morgana screamed as he reached for her.

“Me lady!” Morgana heard one of her clansmen cry out in concern for her, but when she turned in hopes of finding her men behind her rushing to her aid, she instead found them engaged in a most gruesome battle of survival as bandits descended upon them from the trees. They were greatly outnumbered and had no way of getting to her in time to save her. She would have to find a way to save herself. She turned back to face her foe, her mind racing. Could reach the sgian dubh under her skirts?

God in Heaven be with me, she prayed as she scrambled for a plan, any plan, to save herself.

“Give me yer jewels,” the bandit barked at her, reaching out his hand, missing the necklace that hung around her neck by a mere whisper of air as Morgana backed away, shaking her head in refusal.

“Me faither gave this tae me. It is precious tae nay one but me. Please,” she entreated as she stumbled backwards, slamming into the chest of another man. She prayed that it was one of her own clansmen, but when she turned her face up to see who was standing over her, she was sorely disappointed.

“Perhaps we will take something of more precious value then,” the second bandit grunted, reaching his hand around to clasp her left breast causing fear and disgust to tear through her entire being.

“Unhand me!” Morgana demanded.

“I will nae,” the man sneered, squeezing her breast harder. “Ye and I will be spending quite a lot o’ time taegether.” The man laughed a hollow sound that made Morgana’s skin crawl so fiercely that she shuddered. She struggled against his grasp, to no avail.

“God help me!” she cried out in desperate prayer.

“Nae God or man will be able tae help ye now.” The man placed his slobbery lips on her neck in a revulsive attempt at seduction.

Morgana looked all around her once more for someone to aid her but saw no one. The sound of swords clashing and men grunting in pain, told her that they were otherwise occupied. She thrashed about, doing everything she could to damage her attacker. The most that she succeeded in doing was to make the man stumble a step, but he did not loosen his grip. While her efforts had been mostly futile, the stumble had caused him to shift his footing. Taking the opportunity, Morgana stomped down hard on her assailant’s toes, wrenching herself free of his lude grasp.

The moment that the man’s grasp loosened, Morgana ran as if her very life depended upon it.

I will nae surrender either me necklace or me virtue tae such loathsome thugs. I will find a way tae escape this misfortune nae matter what it takes.

The sound of pounding feet behind her alerted her to her attacker’s pursuit. She risked looking over her shoulder and found both bandits running after her, exertion, anger, and lust contorting their faces into gruesome red masks of determination.

“Help! Someone help me!” Morgana cried out in distress, while she poured all her energy into running.

She thought about what she could do, her mind racing, to deter her attackers. She could not stop and face her attackers head on as her sgian dubh was no match for the two large men who were pursuing her. She racked her oxygen starved brain as she gasped for air, running for all that she was worth.

What can I dae?!

Fear and exhaustion caused tears to stream down her cheeks.

“Help!” she screamed again, pain coursing through her throat and lungs at the sheer force of it. “Help me!”

Perhaps she could offer the brigands something else of like value to deter them. Feeling a small glimmer of hope, Morgana removed all the other jewelry on her person, except for her necklace, and tossed them away from her into the trees hoping to distract her attackers. Looking over her shoulder, she saw the first man who had confronted her stop to pick the jewelry up from the ground, but the second man kept going. It appeared that he only had eyes for Morgana’s body and what it could offer him.

A fresh streak of terror raced through Morgana’s entire being, causing her to stumble, but she quickly regained her footing and ran on as fast as she could. Weaving around tree after tree, she attempted to lose her attacker, but he just kept coming. No matter how fast she ran, or what evasive maneuvers she attempted, she was not fast enough. The man’s longer strides caught up to her and he grasped a hold of her cloak, his fingers intertwining with the fabric.

“Nay!” Morgana cried out in pain as she was jerked backwards.

The sudden pressure of the metal broach against her throat threatened to cut off her airway. Struggling against the constraints of her own garment, she wept in fear and revulsion at the thought of what was about to happen to her. Mind racing, heart pounding, she could feel the heat of the man behind her as he drew her unwilling body to his.

“Ye are mine,” he growled behind her, his breath on her ear.

“Nay!” she cried out in protest, struggling against his grasp. “I will ne’er be yers!

Morgana yanked against his hold once more and a sharp pain at her throat caused by the metal of the broach created a momentary clearing of the panicked fog from her mind.

The broach!

Reaching up with frantic fingers, she unfastened her cloak. Allowing the man to have it, she darted forward. Unfortunately, she discovered too late that his fingers had also hooked onto her necklace.

“Nay,” she cried out as it ripped painfully away from her neck, leaving a mark where the chain had once lain against her skin. “Nay!” Morgana cried out again in protest but there was nothing that she could do about it. Her beloved necklace was gone. She had no time to mourn its loss as she lunged forward racing through the trees once more.

“Ye will be mine!” Roared her assailant, tossing her cloak to the ground, her necklace with it. “I will have yer body until I have had me fill and then I will share ye with me men,” he threatened, his voice causing the hairs on the back of her neck to prickle. “If there is anything left o’ ye tae share when I am through with ye, that is.” He laughed at the thought of her impending torment.

“I will ne’er be yers!”

Morgana looked over her shoulder to find that the second man had caught up to the first but had then stopped to retrieve her cloak and necklace. Sobbing, she ducked her head and leaned into the wind as she raced forward. When she finally cleared the trees, she lost all pretense of cover. She was left open and exposed in the afternoon sun. There was no place that she could go to hide, and without any blockages in her assailants’ way such as trees, logs, or underbrush, they would be able to catch up with her in no time at all.

Seeing water ahead of her, and a cliff edge quickly approaching, Morgana made the choice before she was able to calculate the full risk. Reaching the edge, she leapt. Air whooshed past her, the fabric of her gown flapping in the wind, as she prayed to whatever gods might be listening to save her. Her last thoughts as she fell were that she could not swim.

Morgana hit the water with a scream, praying that there were no sharp rocks below the surface. She sank beneath the waves, gasping for air. Her lungs burned as she frantically flailed about attempting to reclaim the surface. Her efforts resulted in a brief emergence, only to have a wave crash over her and send her plummeting back down into the watery abyss. She was drowning and there was nothing that she could do about it. She had never been taught how to swim, and her sodden clothes were weighing her down. She thrashed about in an attempt to surface, but it was to no avail. The more she fought, the more tired she became, causing her to only sink faster. Reaching her arm up towards the ever-dimming light, she said goodbye to all those that she loved.

Chapter Two

Craig Ainsley rode alongside his men laughing and jesting as they teased their newest recruit about his wandering eye for the lassies, when the sounds of battle whipped past them on the wind. “Lads,” he signaled for them to be silent, and they immediately obeyed, each man coming to a complete halt as they listened. The sound of battle came again. “The forest,” Craig observed, and his men nodded in agreement. Without saying another word, he and his men melted into the trees, using the undergrowth to hide their movements as they went to investigate.

When they came upon a small clearing with a stream, they found the ground littered with bodies while a battle still raged above the prone corpses. “Those are MacGregor clansmen,” Craig’s most trusted man, Brodie, murmured under his breath.

Craig and Bodie served the Laird Edward Campbell, born a MacGregor, who had then taken his wife’s clan’s name when he had inherited the lairdship after her uncle’s death. The Lady Evelyin had been the sole heir.

“Aye,” Craig agreed. “I recognized them as well. I dinnae ken the men that they are fighting. Regardless, we cannae leave them tae it. There are nae enough MacGregor men left tae defeat their attackers.”

“Aye, bandits, looks like,” Brodie agreed. “What is our plan o’ attack?”

“We will use the element of surprise tae our advantage,” Craig answered, scanning the landscape for more bandits. “I dinnae see any other attackers aside from these, but that daes nae mean that there are nay others nearby.”

“Brodie, ye take half o’ the men and come from this side,” he gestured towards the left flank. “I will take the other half o’ our men and come around from the other side. We will cut them off from any means o’ escape,” Craig instructed.

“Aye,” Brodie nodded in agreement. He moved towards the left flank, tapping half of their men on the shoulder as he moved among them to follow him. He instructed the rest of their men to join Craig on the right flank.

Craig and his men moved silently through the trees around to the other side of the clearing. “On me signal,” he commanded his men keeping his voice low so as not to be overheard. His men nodded in acknowledgement, standing at the ready.

Craig waited until he caught Brodie’s eye across the clearing, then raised his arm, letting it fall in a signal to attack. The Campbell clansmen raced forward out of the trees catching the bandits completely by surprise. None of them were ready for the hail of swords that rained down upon them. The bandits turned from the remaining wounded MacGregor clansmen and faced Craig’s men with no hope of winning. They were outnumbered, outmanned, exhausted. It did not take long for the well-rested Campbell clansmen to defeat them.

Standing over the bodies of the slain and wounded, Craig shook his head. He did not relish the thought of having to inform the Laird Edward about his people. “Gather the dead and the wounded of the MacGregor clansmen,” he instructed his men. “We will take the wounded with us tae find a healer. The dead deserve a proper burial amongst their own people.” Craig knelt down beside one of the wounded men. “Are there any more o’ yer men that we should find?”

“The Lady Morgana,” the wounded MacGregor clansman gasped out.

“What about the Lady Morgana?” Craig asked, concern seizing his mind and wrinkling his brow. “Was she with ye?”

“Aye, we were accompanyin’ her to Laird Aberdeen,” the wounded warrior gasped out, lifting a finger into the forest where he had last seen her. “Two o’ the men who attacked us went after her. I dinnae ken what has befallen her.”

Fear gripped Craig’s heart. Laird Edward’s sister was out there somewhere, dead or alive he did not know. “Morgana?!” Craig roared as he searched the nearby forest. “Morgana?!” he roared again but heard nothing.

“Craig?” Brodie inquired, coming stand beside him.

“The Lady Morgana was with her men. I am going tae look fer her,” Craig informed him.

“We will go with ye,” Brodie offered, concern wrinkling his brow.

Craig looked around at the wounded men and shook his head. “I will go and search fer her. These men will nae live tae see the morn if ye dinnae get them tae a healer. There will be nae more loss o’ the Laird Edward’s people if I have a say in it.”

“Aye,” Brodie nodded in agreement. “It is true. They will nae last much longer without care.”

“Take them tae the nearest healer that ye can find. Take me horse tae help transport the wounded. I will rejoin ye with the Lady Morgana as swiftly as I am able tae,” Craig instructed.

“Aye,” Brodie nodded and turned to do as instructed. He issued orders to the other men, and the difficult task of gathering up the dead and wounded began.

Craig walked over to the area of the forest that the MacGregor clansman had pointed to and inspected the ground for footprints. He found signs of a scuffle, then three sets of footprints that ran off through the mud on the other side of the stream. A woman’s scream pierced the air, igniting his blood with fear. “Morgana!” Craig yelled her name and took off at a dead run in the direction of the footprints. “Morgana!”

As he ran through the trees, his mind raced with concern for Morgana’s life. She was a strong woman. He knew that she would put up a good fight, but she was no match for two fully grown armed men bent on harming her. Craig ran with all of his speed and power, dodging trees and leaping over logs, stones, and underbrush. Another scream pierced the air, and he ran straight towards the sound. Up ahead, through the trees, he could make out the shape of a man kneeling over a dark form on the ground.

Rage seized his heart, mind, and soul, as Craig charged through the woodland throwing himself at the man, knocking him to the ground. Flashes of metal flew through the air as jewelry scattered across the ground, but it was the sight of Morgana’s necklace gripped tightly in the man’s hand that nearly sent him over the edge into outright murder. He pinned the man down, blade to his throat.

“Where is she?!” Craig shouted, demanding an immediate answer from his prisoner. The dark form on the ground was Morgana’s cloak but she was nowhere to be seen. “Where is she?!” He shook the man so hard that his teeth rattled, resulting in the blade moving away from his neck. It was just the moment that the bandit needed to gain enough leverage to bash Craig in the head.

Craig staggered backwards momentarily dazed. The bandit rolled out from beneath him and attempted to regain his footing, but Craig was not about to allow him to get the upper hand. He launched himself at the bandit once more and they grappled around on the ground, each trying to gain control of the other. Craig just barely managed to regain control of the blade and set the tip against the man’s throat. “Where is she?” he growled menacingly.

The man laughed. “Ye will ne’er find her in time and ye will nae want tae find her when he is done with her.” The man laughed with such gleeful menace, that it was as if pure evil lay on the ground beneath him. “I would have done the same tae her had I reached her first.”

“Tell me where she is and I might let ye live,” Craig commanded, attempting to swallow his rage.

“I would rather die than bow tae the likes o’ ye Campbells,” the man spat out.

“I am nae a Campbell, but I would be happy tae acquiesce yer request,” Craig growled, sinking the blade into the man’s throat. The bandit’s eyes widened briefly in surprise, then panic, then glazed over in death as he bled out onto the ground.

Rising, Craig removed his blade and cleaned it on the man’s clothing. Picking up Morgana’s necklace he placed it in his sporran and arose to run once more. Through the trees, he could just make out an open space and he ran for it as hard and fast as he could. Just as he emerged from the forest, he caught sight of Morgana leaping to her death over the side of the cliff, while her attacker just barely missed grabbing her by her hair.

“Morgana!” Craig yelled in horror. He ran forward drawing his sword and plunged it through her attacker’s heart before the man realized he was there, then leapt over the side of the cliff after Morgana.

***

Morgana had fought with all of her strength to save herself from drowning, but to no avail. The great aquatic expanse had swallowed her up and was about to become her final resting place.

I cannae believe that this is how it ends. After everything that me family has been through, it is nae by battle or auld age that I meet me end, but by the sea, but still better than at the hands of bandits.

She did not know when it had happened, but somewhere along the way, panic had turned to peace. Just as Morgana started to surrender to unconsciousness and her fate, she felt something strong wrap around her torso. She felt it grasp her body and begin to move upward. In her cloud fogged oxygen starved mind, she realized that someone was hauling her up out of the water.

When her head finally burst forth above the surface and into the blessed air, she gasped, coughed, and sputtered up water from her lungs. She flailed about, afraid that she might sink once more, and even more afraid that her rescuer was also her assailant. “Let me go! I would rather die than succumb tae the likes o’ ye! Let me go!”

“Morgana,” a familiar masculine voice called her name. “Morgana, ye are safe.”

She turned her head to see her brother Edward’s councilman treading water beside her, holding her up above the water. “Craig?”

“Aye,” Craig nodded, he searched her face, concern wrinkling his brow. “Are ye hurt? Did they hurt ye?”

Morgana shook her head. “Nay, I am nae wounded.”

“Good,” Craig acknowledged, brushing the hair back from her face. He watched her breathing for a moment, before turning his eyes to search the coastline.

Morgana followed his eyes and felt panic well up inside of her once more. There was nothing but a rocky cliff face. As far as her eyes could see, there was no clear way back up to the top. It was a miracle that she had not fallen to her death on the rocks. “Craig?” she breathed his name in questioning prayer.

“We will find a way, lass. Hold on tae me and I will swim us tae the rocks,” he instructed, as he moved her body around his and onto his back.

Morgana did as he instructed, holding on to his shoulders and kicking her legs as he swam them to the face of the cliff.

“Dae ye see anything?” she asked. In spite of the cold water, she felt a flush of heat within her breasts where their two bodies touched.

“Nay, nae yet.” Craig swam along the cliff until he found a rocky protrusion that he could hoist Morgana up onto. Morgana was startled by his strength as he hefted her up onto the rocks. She shivered as the cool air hit her sodden wet garments. The water had been cold enough, but adding the cold air raised bumps over her entire body. She shivered so hard that her teeth chattered.

“What will we dae?” she breathed, attempting to hide the fear from her voice as she looked up the side of the cliff.

“We will find a way up,” he reassured her. He looked her over from head to foot making certain that she had not been injured in any way. “Are ye well, lass?” The concern in his hazel eyes made them all the more dynamic.

“I am well enough,” she answered. A shiver of cold passed over Morgana’s body.

“We need tae get ye up out o’ this water and near a fire afore ye freeze tae death.” He turned his eyes back to the inspection of the rocky cliff that towered above them. “I think I see a way up, but it will be dangerous. Ye will need tae shed that wet gown.”

Morgana looked at him mortified. “Ye wish fer me tae climb this cliff naked?”

Craig shook his head. “I would nae ask ye tae dae such a thing if it were nae absolutely necassary. Ye can keep yer shift, lass, but the gown must go. It is too laden with water fer ye tae make it up the side o’ this cliff while wearing it. I will help ye all that I am able, but ye must dae yer part. Yer modesty and virtue will remain intact. I would ne’er dae aught tae compromise ye.”

Morgana was having difficulty thinking through the fear that was coursing through her entire body. She had been attacked, nearly drowned, and was now forced to climb a sheer cliff face. To make matters worse, she had no notion as to whether her attackers were still at the top of the cliff. “I dinnae wish tae die, in a shift or nae.”

Craig shook his head again. “Ye are nae going tae die this day. Nae if I have anything tae say about it. But believe me, there are worse ways tae die than in a shift,” Craig chuckled, giving her a knowing smile.

Morgana blushed once more at the insinuation of his words. “Ye should nae speak tae me thus,” she reprimanded him, more to hide her own body’s response to the images that his words conjured in her mind than in actual offense.

“Aye, me apologies, me lady. I should nae have spoken tae ye thus,” Craig’s manner shifted, causing a silent tension to descend over them. Taking a deep breath, he met her eyes. “Regardless of propriety, ye have nay choice but tae disrobe if ye wish tae survive this day. Ye are a brave lass. Ye can dae this,” he reassured her.

Before Morgana could argue further, he hefted himself up onto the stone beside her. His wet clothes clung to every line of his muscular arms and torso. It was an awe-inspiring sight that made Morgana’s blush deepen to a bright fiery red that started in her cheeks and traveled down her neck to her breasts. “I can dae anything that ye can dae,” she quipped to hide her discomfort.

Craig smiled in acknowledgement of her claim. “That is good. Ye will need courage. Enough talking now. It is time tae remove yer gown and get tae climbing.”

Morgana frowned at him but did as he instructed, removing her outer clothing. She knew that he was right and to protest further would only waste valuable time and energy. As she shed the last article of clothing, she caught him looking at her with a glimmer of desire in his eyes. “I am ready,” she informed him, as she let the last garment fall.

Morgana stood shivering in her wet shift attempting to cover herself with her hands as Craig looked up from her practically see-through shift and met her eyes. Morgana thought she saw desire and honor battling in his. Uneasy, she shifted her gaze away from his. Despite the cold wetness of her shift, she could feel her body heating up under his stare. She quickly turned her head to stare up the cliff in trepidation.

Craig shifted uneasily next to her. Tearing his eyes away from her, he followed her gaze up the cliff face. “Now it is time tae climb,” he instructed. Taking her hand in his, he placed it on the first rocky hand hold. “Dae ye see that next place there?” He gestured towards a small rock protrusion that she could grasp a hold of to gain some leverage. It was not a large protrusion, but her hands were small enough to make it work. She had never climbed a cliff before and the thought of falling all of those feet again made her more than a little nervous.

Craig gathered Morgana’s clothing and examined them as if he were testing the weight of them, then shook his head.

“What is it?” Morgana asked, watching him over her shoulder.

“I cannae carry yer clothes up the cliff and manage tae help ye climb as well. They are tae sodden with water. I have nay choice but tae leave yer gown behind.” His eyes swept over her barely concealed posterior.

Morgana could feel herself blushing once more, so she hurriedly turned back towards the cliff. There was nothing she could do at that moment, so she tried to ignore just how vulnerable she felt and concentrated on the task at hand.

“I will put yer clothes in as safe a place as I can,” he promised from behind her. Out of the corner of her eyes, Morgana saw him bundle up her clothes and place them on an upper rock shelf, barely big enough for the dripping fabric. Once they were secured, Craig joined her on the wall.

Morgana had not made it much past the first steps, when her foot slipped, and she lost her hold on the wet stones. “Craig!” She cried out as she fell backwards towards the jagged rocks below.

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