ANOTHER GRISLY BATTLE CRY RENT THE AIR. TORTURED screams followed.

The MacHughs had joined the fight. Forming an impenetrable line, they advanced. The Buchanans followed their lead, and within minutes the two clans had trapped the enemy between them. They showed no mercy. It was an eye for an eye, and when it was over, the field was littered with bodies.

The frantic search for Liam MacHugh began then. Colm MacHugh leapt from his horse and ran to the hole the enemies had prepared for his brother. His relief was great when he saw the hole was empty. There was only one body on the ground near the mound of dirt. Colm didn’t recognize him. He was studying the unusual markings on the arrow embedded in the man’s chest when Laird Brodick Buchanan joined him.

“Who the hell is he?” Colm asked.

Brodick shook his head. “I’ve never seen him before.”

Colm jerked the arrow from the dead man’s chest. “Is this a Buchanan arrow?”

“No. I thought it was yours.”

“MacKenna’s behind this,” he said.

Brodick shook his head. “Those aren’t his soldiers on the ground, and this isn’t one of their arrows. The markings…I’ve never seen one like this before. There’s no sign of MacKenna here.” He picked up a piece of rope. There was blood on it. “They tied your brother with this.”

“I still think this is somehow MacKenna’s doing,” Colm insisted.

“Without proof, you cannot accuse him,” Brodick reasoned.

“Liam couldn’t have gotten far.” Colm scanned the woods surrounding them. “We’ll keep looking until we find him and whoever has him.”

“The Buchanans are with you,” Brodick pledged. “As long as it takes to avenge this black-hearted deed.”

The two lairds divided their men into smaller units to scour the area, but after hours of searching, each group reported that they had thoroughly covered the flats and the forests, but to no avail.

Liam MacHugh had vanished into thin air.