for breath, he fought to control his anger and disgust. Reason prevailed. He could scarcely fight off three men alone. Melting back into the thick cover of the undergrowth, Asher Kira set off for Lord Bothwell.
It took him over half an hour, for he moved carefully, marking his trail so he might find his way back easily. He found Conall first, and poured out his story. The Scots captain paled. Grasping the younger man by the arm, Conall pulled him along to the earl. Bothwell’s face darkened with rage, and he might have gone crashing back through the underbrush had it not been for the restraining influence of his companions.
'Ye'll nae stop the deviltry now, my lord,' said Conall grimly. 'What we want is to get them back alive.'
Francis did not think that he could bear it. His beautiful, brave Cat was being hurt again! Could the fates not leave them in peace? And he knew in a fury that nearly overcame him, he was going to kill her tormenter himself.
It was almost night as they grimly made their way back to the campsite. Silently observing the beach from the little bluff above it, they saw that the three soldiers had made a fire and were seated about it. Susan was not to be seen, but Cat-still naked-was clasped in the captain's big lap. As they crept closer they could hear the men arguing.
'I don't see why you won't let us have her, captain,' said one of the soldiers. 'Because you can't do it yourself any more, you deny Mustafa and me.'
'You have the other girl, Issa.'
'She's unconscious now, captain,' whined the soldier. 'It's no fun fucking a woman who doesn't move. Let us have a go on Goldenhair. Come on, now. You've never been one to hoard the goods all to yourself.'
'You're a pair of fools! This woman is a
'We saw what you were doing to her before, captain,' said Issa. 'Let us do at least that. Aw, hell! She's got such wonderful big tits. I want a feel. Come on, captain! Let us have a little feel.'
Captain Omar stood up, dumping Cat, and roared, 'No! No! And again, no! You'll bruise the devil out of her. I know you two. You're animals! Fuck the other, and think about how much money this one will bring us when we sell her.' Then he plumped himself down again, yanking Cat back into the comparative safety of his massive lap.
Watching from his hidden vantage, Bothwell thanked God she hadn't been raped. Susan, poor lass, had taken the brunt of the brutality. The earl vowed he would do his best to care for her. If they got out of this alive, Susan would never again lack for anything.
Slipping back into the forest, he signaled silently to Conall and Asher to follow him. They reached a small clearing, and Bothwell said quietly, 'I think we're well advised to wait until they sleep. We'll each take one of them, but the captain is mine.' The two nodded. The earl asked Asher, 'Do ye think ye can kill a man, lad?'
Asher Kira nodded. 'Yes, my lord, I can. After what I saw them doing to Susan, I can kill one of the men who did it.'
The earl smiled grimly, and the three men settled down to wait.
The moonless night grew darker, and gradually the noise from the soldiers died until only snoring broke the stillness. Carefully now they crept up again to the perimeter of the camp. The fire burned low. The three men were all there. The man who should have been on guard slept as noisily as his companions. Bothwell shook his head in wonder. These Turks-alleged to be the world's finest military-were poor soldiers. Instead of sleeping in close formation about the fire, they were scattered-easy prey for man or animal.
The earl nodded to Conall and Asher. Shadowlike the three men stepped from the darkness into the faint glow of the firelight. Methodically they went about their task. A hard hand was clasped quickly about a mouth to stifle the cry while the throat was cut from ear to ear. The two soldiers died swiftly. Captain Omar was left.
A bloodcurdling Scots war cry ripped through the night. The Turkish captain scrambled to his feet, terrified. A quick glance about him told him his companions were dead. Slowly, he turned to face his adversaries. There were three of them-a beardless youth not worth bothering with, and two hardened veterans. Omar was no coward, but he did not like the odds.
'I am Captain Omar of the sultan's Dlyrian regulars,' he said. 'Who are you?'
The tallest of the men stepped forward. 'My name matters not, spawn of pig's offal! You will not live long enough to repeat it!'
The insult was enormous, yet the captain was puzzled. 'Do I know you, my lord? What is your quarrel with me?' He shifted his weight slightly.
'Do not move, captain,' said the tall man. 'My young friend has a pistol pointed directly at you. It is primed and ready. If his finger should slip…' He paused and smiled. 'Have you ever seen a man die of a bullet wound, captain? A large hole blown clean through his middle? The guts oozing out onto the ground like a string of sausages? Move one step, and you will experience that most exquisite agony.'
The giant Turk swallowed hard and glanced over at the boy he had regarded so lightly. Asher Kira glared coldly back. His slender hand was wrapped lightly about a large, evil-looking weapon. He seemed quite familiar with it, even comfortable. Captain Omar stood very still.
Bothwell turned to Conall. 'Susan?'
'Alive, my lord,' came the choked reply. The weatherworn face, wet with tears, implored him.
'Christ, mon, what sort of human does this to a young girl?' And he tenderly cradled the battered body of his niece in his arms.
'Cat!' The earl's voice called.
She came slowly from behind the captain, still naked. Removing his heavy cloak, Bothwell wrapped her in it 'Asher will take you and Susan to the boat as soon as he and Conall have launched it'
'And you?'
'The captain and I have unfinished business.'
'I will stay till it is finished,' she stated.
A slow smile crinkled the corners of his eyes. 'You were never one to run from danger, were you, my love? Very well then. It would be easier if you had some clothes on, madame. Are there any extra among us?'
Nodding, she said, 'I will not be long, Francis,' and climbed back up to the cave. Taking Susan's extra undergarments, pants from Asher, and a shirt from Conall, she was able to put together a decent wardrobe. Her own sash and boots were salvageable.
While she dressed, the others pressed Captain Omar's strength into service. They dragged the boat from its biding place and anchored it in the river, just off the beach. Asher Kira waited in it with the injured Susan. Having regained consciousness, she alternated between relief and tears. Conall built up the fire to light the area while the two combatants stripped off shirts and boots.
'Understand me, Turk,' said Bothwell. 'If I do not kill you, which I intend doing, my captain will do it. But because I believe every condemned man has the right to know why he dies I will tell you now that the lady you intended selling into bondage is my wife. The girl your men brutalized is my captain's niece.'
Captain Omar let the words slide over him, looking his challenger over. Bothwell was almost as tall as he, but weighed a good deal less. Omar felt confidence swelling through him. He would quickly crush the infidel dog. As for his bandy-legged companion, he presented no threat at all. But it would be wise to dispose of him quickly. Whirling, he turned on the surprised Conall and felled him with a great blow to the head. The Scotsman slid silently to the sand as Cat screamed his name.
Now Captain Omar turned to Bothwell. The two men circled each other, each assessing the other's strength. Their knives flashed in the firelight. Suddenly terrified, Cat knelt by the unconscious Conall, watching and praying.
There was a sudden glint of steel and a reddening wound. Then there was another, and another. The two men fought on, past taunts now, an occasional grunt punctuating the silence. Neither seemed to weary, and the firelight dappled their sweat-soaked bodies. Suddenly the Turk flung aside his knife and leaped at Both-well, enveloping him in a great bear hug. Bothwell was caught as surely as a rabbit in a snare. He could not struggle, and his knife dropped from his hand. The giant seemed to be squeezing the very life from him.
'Cat!' He managed to gasp. 'To the boat, lass! Run!'
He felt a rib crack and struggled harder against both his massive enemy and fast-rising unconsciousness. He knew that if the blackness claimed him he was a dead man. The ignominy of the situation struck at his native
