Ewan swallowed hard. 'There may be some other explanation, my lord.'
Ban shook his head. 'Spread out. Search the whole area. If my wife is here we must find her.'
He did not voice the terrible fear of exactly what they might find. His men hastened to obey and immediately formed a line to begin combing the wood. It did not take them long to discover the tracks of horses' hooves. Ban's fist tightened round the reins. The prints indicated half-a-dozen mounts at least by his reckoning. The trail headed away up the slope. Then he saw another arrow buried in a tree trunk and his blood ran cold.
Davy drew up alongside. 'Do you think it was Murdo, my lord?'
'I'm quite sure of it. That arrow is as good as a signature.' He looked swiftly around. Suddenly the quiet wood seemed infinitely more sinister. 'Follow the trail, but keep your wits about you. It could be a trap.'
He urged the chestnut on up the slope, following the tracks in the soft loam. The discovery of two more identical arrows only served to intensify his unease.
Beside him Davy looked at Ewan. 'What were they shooting at?'
'Or whom?' replied the other.
Ban's jaw tightened, his mind refusing to acknowledge the answer. They reached the top of the slope and then paused on the edge of a clearing.
'The prints turn back into the trees again, my lord,' said Davy. 'All the same, they've left a trail a child of five could follow; almost as if they meant it to be found.'
'That's just what they meant,' replied Ban.
'But why, my lord? They must have known it would be madness to venture on to Glengarron lands.'
'Murdo knew exactly what he was doing.'
'An act of provocation then.'
'No, an act of revenge.' As he spoke he became more certain what form that revenge would take, and for the first time in five years he felt horribly afraid.
* * *
It was another five minutes before they found Isabelle. Ban flung himself from his horse and fell on his knees beside her, seeing in frantic disbelief the arrow lodged in her side. Her face was ashen. No movement testified that she lived. With a cry he raised her shoulders from the ground and cradled her close, icy dread locked round his heart. Around them his men stood grim-faced, silent witnesses to the horror. Forcing himself to ascertain the truth Ban's fingers moved to her neck, seeking a pulse. For several hideous seconds he couldn't find one; then, very faint beneath his touch, he located it. Fear and rage swelled in his heart as he lifted his wife in his arms.
'Davy, bring my horse. We need to get her home. Ewan, take Callum and go and collect Nell's body.'
* * *
The journey back to Dark Mount was not long but to Ban it seemed to take for ever. As they rode into the courtyard he heard curious voices raised in question and then exclamations of shock and horror as the extent of the outrage became clear. After that was a tense and angry silence. The crowd parted to let Ban through. Carefully he bore his wife indoors and took her to the chamber they shared together, laying her gently on the bed. Her pallor terrified him. When he touched her hand it was cold.
'Ban? What is it? What has happened?'
He recognised Ashlynn's voice. 'He has killed her,' he replied.
There followed a sharp intake of breath as Ashlynn took in the extent of the injury. Then she rapped out a series of instructions to the hovering servants before turning back to her brother.
'Who has done this thing?'
'Murdo, who else?'
She shivered to see the expression in his eyes. Then he rose to his feet.
'Tend her, Ashlynn. I'm going after him.'
'Be careful, Ban. It's what he wants.'
'He'll get his wish. The murdering bastard has spent his last day on this earth.'
He took a last parting look at his wife and then strode to the door. He had no sooner reached the courtyard than he heard his brother-in-law's voice ordering men to arm and ready themselves, and saw the subsequent flurry of activity as they hastened to obey. Iain remained standing by Nell's body, now shrouded in a cloak. When he saw Ban he reached out a hand to clasp his shoulder.
'I'm sorry, Brother. I delayed in my pursuit of Murdo, thinking there would be time enough. I was wrong and I ask your pardon.'
Ban's face was grim. 'Let us find the coward now for he or I or both die this day.'
'We will have his head on a spear, I swear it.'
'Let it be so.'
In short order they were mounted and, accompanied by a contingent thirty strong, set out to follow Murdo's trail. After retracing their way to the scene of the crime it took little time to tell the direction the fugitives must have taken. Ban would have sent his horse after in hot pursuit but Ewan stayed him.
'My lord, he will likely return to Castlemora, will he not?'
'Aye. What of it?'
'There is a quicker way than his; an old drovers' trail across the moors. If we take it, we can cut him off.'
Iain nodded. 'Ewan's right.'
'Very well.' Ban met and held the dark gaze a moment. 'Lead on.'
Ewan turned his horse and set off a tangent along a path skirting the hillside. Spurring the horses on they reached the top of the slope and, when the ground levelled out, they gave the animals their heads. The horses settled into their stride, a mile-eating gallop that stayed for nothing. Ban's one thought now was to have Murdo within reach of his sword point. He could still see Isabelle's pale face turned up to his, feel the icy touch of her flesh. The shaft had been buried deep in her side. When it was withdrawn she would bleed, draining her strength further. Even if that were stanched the chances were that the barb had pierced some vital organ and she would bleed inwardly, her life leaching away by moments and with it the life of their child. He had lost them and the knowledge cut him to the heart. In that moment he understood what Isabelle meant to him; that he loved her more than life itself, and if she was gone then he cared not if he died too this day, but not before he slew Murdo.
Cold rage filled his breast and he rode like one possessed, guiding the horse with a sure instinctive touch, his body moving to the rhythm of the easy loping gallop. Beside him Iain rode too, his face a chilling mask that carried in it a sentence of death. Behind them their men rode as one body with one avowed intent, the desire for vengeance burning in their eyes. Glengarron had suffered a deadly insult this day and it could only be expunged in blood.
* * *
Some miles later they paused briefly to let the horses breathe.
'Murdo will assume by this that he is away and clear,' said Iain. 'He will hardly suspect we've stolen a march on him.'
Ban's expression was grim. 'It'll be his last surprise.'
They spurred forwards again until, at the top of the next hill, Iain raised a hand and they reined in once more.
'Down there,' he said, pointing to the valley below.
Ban narrowed his eyes against the light and then his heart leapt in savage satisfaction as he saw the line of dust and half-a-dozen horsemen riding fast along the narrow trail.
'There they are.'
'Aye, we'll head over the top and cut them off in the trees further along.'
They sped along the track, plunging down the far side of the slope and into the wood below, ranging themselves along the trail they knew their quarry must ride. There they pulled their blowing horses to a halt and waited. They had not long to do so, for soon the breeze carried the sound of drumming hooves towards them. Ban loosened his sword in its sheath, his face grim. He heard Iain speak to his men.
'There will be no quarter. We take no prisoners this day.'
Grim smiles answered him, along with the soft scrape of steel against leather.
A blur of movement through the trees announced the riders' presence. The waiting men lifted their swords.
'Hold,' murmured Iain. 'Let them get closer.'
The foremost horseman was but fifty yards off when the ambushers emerged from their cover and threw a cordon across the way. Amid cursing and warning shouts the riders drew their horses to a plunging halt, their hands going immediately to their weapons. Those in the rear turned sharply, only to see the path cut off behind. Seeing the vastly superior numbers one or two threw down their weapons. The gesture did not save them and they were cut down without mercy. Their fate steeled the rest who turned to face the assault, fighting desperately for their lives.
Ban spurred Firecrest straight at Murdo's mount, his horse's shoulder striking the other at an oblique angle. Thrown off balance the bay stumbled. Murdo rolled and came up fast, sword drawn. As he recognised his enemy he bared his teeth in a feral smile.
'I hoped you'd come after me though in truth I didn't think it would be so soon.'
'You have your wish.'
'Indeed I do, and now I shall kill you.'
'I am not so easy to kill.' Ban dismounted and advanced, sword in hand, his blue eyes like chips of ice as they swept over the other man. 'Unlike defenceless women.'