The Fearless Highlander (Highland Defender Book 1) Read Online Free PDF Page B

are you, ye bastard?”
    Hugh held his breath. A bit further. Come now .
    With the dragoon’s next step, Hugh lunged and grasped ahold of the musket barrel, sliding his hand toward the iron cock. If the bastard pulled the trigger, the entire company would be upon him in seconds.
    With a grunt the redcoat jerked back.
    The gun’s cock hammered into Hugh’s finger. Sharp pain shot up his arm, but at least the musket hadn’t fired. Gnashing his teeth, Hugh struggled to wrench the gun from the dragoon’s grasp. In a fight of wills, the swine’s grip finally released.
    Hugh stumbled backward as a stool hurtled toward his temple. Ducking beneath it, he grasped the musket barrel and slammed the butt over the guard’s head. The man dropped to his knees, sucked in a deep breath, then collapsed on his face.
    Hugh bent over, rested his hands on his knees and panted. Holy hell, he’d lost so much strength, he’d nearly let the soldier kill him. As soon as his lungs filled with air, he went to work stripping the man. Coat, boots, belt, sword, dagger. He needed it all.
    Pulling the boots off the lump proved more difficult than tugging a breech calf from a heifer. But Hugh wasn’t about to give up. Not until he shoved his feet into one of the damned things and his foot stuck about halfway. What the blazes? Did the man have feet the size of a child? With a grunt, Hugh cast the boots aside. Turning in place, his mind raced.
    Bandages.
    He quickly wrapped his feet and tied the ends around his ankles. Then he hoisted the guard into his bed and locked the man’s ankles in his old manacles— best use of that set of iron cuffs ever .
    Slipping to the door, he held his breath and listened. In the distance, muffled voices chatted and chuckled. Had the physician returned with Colonel Hill, or were they gone for a bit? Hugh supposed it didn’t matter. With luck, they wouldn’t find him missing until the morning, especially since he’d made it look like he was still abed.
    Moving through the shadows, Hugh wound his way to the main gate. Locked inside the fortress walls, he pressed his body into a corner and considered his options. He could climb up the stairwell and out onto the wall-walk. A jump from fifty feet shouldn’t kill him—if he landed on grass or mud. He could overtake the guard and raise the portcullis. But then the last fight had almost killed him. He had about as much strength as a lad of twelve. At night he’d oft listened to the surf from inside the depths of the pit. Perhaps there was a sea gate.
    Hugh didn’t like a single one of his options, but a leap from the wall-walk had the greatest chances of keeping him from another altercation. Bloody oath, when he recovered from the fever it would be his pleasure to return and take on the lot of them…all except Miss Hill, of course.
    As Hugh started up the tower stairs, a groan of chains resounded from the gate.
    “Colonel Hill has returned,” a voice boomed. “Long live King William.”
    Och aye, I can tell you what should be done with the Dutch king, and it has nothing to do with a long life .
    Hugh ran his hands over the dirt and wiped it across his face. Then he crept into the shadows and watched the company of dragoons pass, trotting their high-stepping ponies beneath the portcullis. The sight of snobbish, straight-backed redcoats turned his stomach sour. Too many meals of gruel. Too many jabs with a bat, and too many malicious taunts had given him a bitter taste that would not soon ebb.
    Doctor Munro brought up the rear. The pasty codfish was unmistakable with his brown wig curling down his back while he sat his horse like he had a ramrod up his arse. He’d be the first to receive a vengeful blow from Hugh’s fist, especially after the bucket of water in the face. Och aye, Hugh would remember that transgression for a very long time.
    Doctor Munro looked straight in Hugh’s direction.
    Every muscle in his body tensed. Had he been spotted?
    But the contingent