Their helmet was pulled down over their eyes, but now that they had come close, Finlay was surprised by the slightness of their figure; it was no man riding the horse but a woman. She removed her helmet, shaking out her hair and smiling. She was exceptionally beautiful, her long red hair shimmering in the sunshine, and her skin soft and dimpled.
“Well now, riders, and what business dae ye have with the MacDonalds?” she asked.
“I am Finlay MacCallum, Laird of the MacCallums and master of Kilchurn Castle. My business is that of peace, fair lady,” he said, bowing to her.
The woman laughed.
“An admirable thing, sir. But ye have few men, and the road north is a dangerous one. I counsel ye to be wary,” she replied, and Finlay smiled.
“All caution has been taken, I assure ye,” he replied, wondering who this mysterious woman was and why she was riding alone along that lonely path.
“For yer sake, I hope so, Laird,” she replied.
“And may I ask what yer business is? Ye say the road is dangerous, and yet ye ride alone,” Finlay said, stepping forward and patting the horse’s mane.
“The road is only a danger to those for whom tis’ a danger. I am quite safe, but I shall keep my own counsel. My business is my own,” she said, still smiling at him.
Finlay nodded. The other men were watching the woman with interest and Dougal seemed entirely enraptured by her. There was something of the charm about her, her mannerisms, and confidence. She was mysterious, and Finlay could not help but be curious as to who she was and where she had come from.
“Then we must bid ye good day. Our journey cannot wait,” he said, bowing to her once again.
“But that is a shame, Laird. I had hoped that ye would sit a while here and talk with me,” she said, beginning to laugh.
Finlay was about to make a further excuse to leave when suddenly, as if from nowhere, there sprang a host of men, appearing from all sides of the path, taking them entirely by surprise. It was too late to draw swords or to resist; the men were on them before any of them realized what was happening. Finlay struggled as he was sent sprawling to the ground, his hands pulled roughly behind his back and bound. Around him, his men were subdued, trying to fight off their attackers who outnumbered them two to one, but to no avail.
It was as much as he could do to cry out, struggling under the grip of his captors, who now pulled him roughly to his feet and pushed him forward. The woman climbed down from her horse and approached him, a smile upon her face, laughing as she stood before him and drawing a sword from a sheath on her belt. Finlay was too shocked to speak at first, cursing himself for being so easily caught off guard and struggling desperately in his captor’s hands.
“What is this?” he cried as the woman held her sword to his chest.
“Stop yer strugglin’, Laird, ye shall only make it worse for yerself,” she said, shaking her head.
“Who are ye? What right have ye to dae this? Are ye robbers? What is it that ye want? I am nay common traveler on the road. I am Laird of the MacCallums, and ye shall pay dearly for this, I promise ye,” he said.
“And how dae ye intend to make me? It seems ye are in nay position to dae so, Laird. Ye will come along with us now, and we shall see that ye are comfortable. I had expected more fight from ye than this, but it seems that I was wrong. Ye are nae what I thought ye would be,” she said, coming close to him and placing her face near to his.
“And what did ye think I would be?” he asked.
“Nae so foolish as to fall for the simple trap of a pretty lass on horseback. We watched ye ride for miles before we struck. My men were yer shadow these three hours past, and yet ye saw nothin’ of us until it was too late. Well, Laird, ye have only yerself to blame. Come now, take them away,” she said.
“But who are ye? What is it that ye want? If tis’ ransom then name yer price and if tis’ power then speak of it,” Finlay said, but the woman only laughed.
“Ye shall see,” she said, climbing back onto her horse, “ye shall see well enough, Finlay, Laird of the MacCallums. A pretty bird has come home to roost this day. Bring them now; there can be nay more delay.”
And with that, Finlay, Dougal, and the other men were led off along the path heading north. There was no explanation, no reason given for their capture. Only the rough treatment of their warders and the mysterious words of the nameless woman who now rode at their head leading them Finlay knew not where, what happened next a mystery.
Chapter Nine
“Still nay sign, mistress?” Carys asked as Elaine descended from the steps leading up to the castle battlements.
“Nothin’ nay. Nae even a dot on the horizon. I have seen nay one on the road north for days,” she said, shaking her head.
“He will return, have faith,” Carys said, taking Elaine by the arm, as the two women walked across the castle courtyard.
It had been the same ritual enacted each day since Finlay had failed to return from the north when expected. It had been two weeks since he and his men had set out, and each day Elaine was growing ever more concerned for his safety. She would rise early each day, making her way to the outer wall of the castle and watching for any sight of Finlay and the others along the road leading north.
They had heard nothing, and while she tried to convince herself that all was well, Elaine could not help but fear the worst. She had pictured Finlay riding back triumphantly to declare that peace had been achieved and that the MacCallums now had an ally in the MacDonalds; she had thought of the feast to celebrate and the look on Finlay’s face as he returned to the castle in the stead of his father’s legacy.
But now, as the days passed and no word came, Elaine could only imagine the worst, her worry growing for Finlay and the other men. Had the MacDonalds taken him captive? Had some accident befallen them on the road, or had there been some terrible tragedy? The more she thought on it, the worse it seemed, and Elaine now found herself in a perpetual state of worry, anxious for news though dreading its arrival.
“I fear the worst though, Carys, I really dae,” she said, shaking her head.
“Finlay can look after himself, mistress. Ye must nae worry for him,” Carys said, but her face looked worried, and it seemed she was unconvinced by her own words, as reassuring as she tried to sound.
The two women made their way into the castle gardens, walking among the flowers arm in arm. But Elaine could find little to distract her, idle talk seeming trivial when worry as to Finlay’s safety was foremost in her mind.
“Ah, Elaine, I thought I would find you here,” Allan MacCallum said, calling out to them across the lawn.
“Must we endure an audience with him?” Carys whispered as Finlay’s uncle hurried over to them.
“The day is pleasant,” Elaine said, not wishing to prolong an encounter with Finlay’s uncle, whom she had tried her best to avoid in the two weeks since they had been forced to endure one another’s company alone.
“Aye, tis’ a pleasant day. I see ye were standin’ watchin’ again across the moorlands,” he said, shaking his head and smiling.
“I was lookin’ out for Finlay,” she replied.
“Aye, tis’ strange that he has nae yet returned. Ye must be anxious for news of him,” Allan said, shaking his head.
“Are ye nae anxious too? He is yer nephew, the Laird of this clan. Surely ye must wish to know why he is so long delayed in the north,” Elaine said, looking at Allan in puzzlement.
“He is Laird; he must take care of himself,” Allan replied, “the MacDonalds are a warlike clan, tis’ surprisin’ that they so wished to see peace. I daenae trust them.”
“So ye are sayin’ that Finlay has come to harm?” Elaine asked, and Allan shrugged his shoulders.
“Finlay is headstrong; he wants to prove himself. I only hope he knows what he is doing, that is all,” he replied.
Finlay will take care of himself, I am certain of that,” Elaine replied, though she too doubted her own words.
&nbs
p; There was something not right about all this, something wrong. There should have been some word, some indication of what had happened. But nothing had come, and the more time that passed, the more worried she became.
“I hope so, for all our sakes,” Allan said, and with a nod of his head, he returned across the lawn, leaving Elaine and Carys watching from a distance.
“He is an odious man. I daenae trust him at all,” Carys said, shaking her head.
“And neither dae I. But we are stuck with him for now,” Elaine replied.
“Tis’ as though he wants Finlay to fail, as though that will prove somethin’ for him. What is his business here?” Carys said.
“His business is to cause trouble, or so it seems. I daenae trust him at all,” Elaine said, as they walked on together through the gardens.
“Then we must hope and pray that Finlay returns to us soon, mistress. I am sure he is safe; we must trust that he is,” Carys said, smiling at Elaine, who nodded.
“That is all we can dae,” she said.
In Finlay’s absence, Elaine had found her feelings for him growing. Her worry for him was born of an ever-deepening affection. She missed him, though it seemed strange to admit it. He was foremost in her thoughts, first on her mind when waking and last when she went to bed. Each day, it seemed her desire for him increased, and, as she worried for his safety, her heart grew heavier, weighed down by his absence.
“Stay strong, mistress,” Carys said, and Elaine nodded.
“We both shall stay strong,” she replied.
* * *
In Finlay’s absence, Elaine had taken to eating her meals with Carys in her chambers. She had no desire to sit under the watchful eye of Allan and his man, enduring his constant glances and snide and lascivious comments. He had become bolder in his advances of late, taking advantage of his position to make Elaine feel entirely uncomfortable in his presence. At first, it had been offhand comments, compliments, and suggestions, but now he had begun to speak openly of his attraction to her, making clear what he desired of her.
“Ye are very beautiful, Elaine,” he had told her when the two of them had sat together after dinner a week after Finlay’s departure.
“And what business of yers is it to say that?” she had replied.
He had risen from his chair, coming close to her, and placing his face down beside her, a menacing look spreading over his countenance.
“Tis’ my business if I choose it to be,” he had said, taking hold of her hand as she struggled under his grip.
Since then, she had chosen to eat alone, having her food sent up and barring the door against unwelcome visitors. She had no desire to entertain his advances, nor to receive his compliments. He was a thoroughly unpleasant and wicked man, a man interested in little but himself and his own advantages.
“The meat is good tonight, mistress. The men caught the stag out on the moorlands just this afternoon,” Carys said, as they ate their stew.
“I am nae hungry,” Elaine said, pushing aside her bowl and rising from her place.
“Ye must eat somethin’ though, mistress. Ye shall have nay strength otherwise. Come now, will ye nae sit and eat with me?” Carys asked.
Elaine was about to reply when a commotion could be heard from the courtyard outside. She made her way over to the window and looked out. Across the moorland, the sun was beginning to set, the heathers turning a deep shade of purple and bronze, the sky streaked with red and orange, and down below, the castle gates had been opened, and several riders were milling about the courtyard.
“What is it, mistress?” Carys asked, and Elaine looked down in puzzlement.
“I daenae know, some trouble perhaps. Tis’ nae Finlay though, and with each passin’ moment, I despair a little more,” she replied, letting out a deep sigh.
“Have faith, mistress,” Carys said, but just then, there came a loud banging on the door, and both women startled.
“Ye are called for, mistress, the Laird’s uncle calls for ye at once. Ye are to come alone,” a voice from outside called out.
“And who is the Laird’s uncle to summon me at his beck and call. What business is so urgent that he demands me?” Elaine replied, turning to Carys and shaking her head in anger.
“News of the Laird, mistress, ye must come at once,” the voice replied, and at this, Elaine looked darted to the door and pulled back the bolt.
Outside, one of Finlay’s men stood looking breathless, a worried look upon his face.
“What news? Tell me,” Elaine cried out.
“Please, mistress, come now; there is nay time to lose,” he said, beckoning her along the corridor.
Elaine wasted no time, hurrying after him along the corridor and down the stairs towards the great hall. Her heart was racing, a hundred different thoughts playing through her mind. What news was this? Surely it could not be good, not if Finlay himself had not returned from the north.
She found Allan and his men waiting in the great hall, the mood was tense, and she looked around her at the long faces, hurrying forwards, tears welling up in her eyes. In her mind, Elaine prayed for good news, but in her heart, she knew that what was now to be said could not be good. Allan turned to her with a sigh, shaking his head.
“So, we now have news from the north,” he said.
“Then tell it to me, I must know,” she said.
“Finlay is dead. Killed on his journey north to the MacDonalds. We mourn our Laird,” he said, bowing his head.
At these words, Elaine fell forward, collapsing to the floor and beginning to sob. She was overwhelmed with emotion, her heart feeling as though it would break at the thought of this terrible tragedy which had now befallen them. How could Finlay be dead? What a terrible and wicked thing this was, and she began to sob uncontrollably as Allan pulled her roughly to her feet.
“He cannae be,” she said, staring up at him through her tear-stained face.
“He is, stop yer wailin’ now. It does nay one any good. A messenger has just brought word, they were ambushed on the road, though by who we daenae know. See - here is his tunic,” Allan said, holding up a shirt that Elaine recognized as belonging to Finlay.
“Nay, nay it cannae be. Oh, Finlay, nay,” Elaine cried out, taking the tunic and holding it to her breast.
What a terrible tragedy this was, one which would surely haunt her all her days. She had not realized the depths of her feelings for Finlay, the news of this dreadful loss now causing a sense of utter despair to run through her. What would she do, now that she had lost not only the old Laird but his son as well? The son whom she had grown in feeling for, her heart now breaking at the thought of his loss.
“Finlay is dead, Elaine. The proof is there, plain to see. What matters now is what we dae about it,” Allan said, placing his hands roughly on her shoulders.
“What can we dae about it? Vengeance? How can we avenge what we daenae know? We daenae know who killed him or even where his body is. Is this the only proof?” Elaine said, pointing to the shirt.
“Tis’ the proof we need, aye,” he replied.
“And what if we choose nae to believe it? I will nae believe it,” Elaine said, beginning to sob.
“Enough of this nonsense. Ye will believe it. See, the whole party of men is dead - Finlay, Dougal, the soldiers. We must wonder why Finlay didnae put up a better fight,” Allan said, shaking his head.
“And what dae ye know? Ye know nothin’ of what happened. Daenae speak so ill of Finlay when ye know nothin’ of how he died,” Elaine said, growing angry at his words.
“He was too headstrong, chargin’ off into the north to prove himself. Tis’ nay surprise that this has happened. Now, stop yer nonsense, lass. Ye hardly know him. Nay amount of cryin’ will bring him back,” Allan said, shaking his head.
Elaine could not believe the callousness of his words or how he dismissed his nephew’s death so readily. There was nothing in his voice which suggested sorrow or remorse, nothing to suggest that he would mourn Finlay�
��s passing. If anything, he seemed unconcerned by it, ready to lay aside the memory in favor of practicalities.
“Ye betray yerself, Allan MacCallum,” Elaine said, and he looked at her angrily.
“Be quiet,” he said, and Elaine shook her head.
“Ye have nay remorse, have ye? Will ye nae mourn him? Ye speak of this matter as though it were the death of some unknown man and not yet nephew. Have ye nay remorse at all?” she asked.
“Remorse? Aye, I have remorse. Remorse for the fool who rode off into the north without a second thought. Finlay knew the dangers, and now he has paid the price for it,” Allan replied, and Elaine turned away in disgust.
Highlander’s Forbidden Desire: Wanting her was forbidden, having her was his ruin... Page 10
