Alick was stunned. He didn’t know what to say. “Married? He forced their marriage already?”
“My apologies, son. I see you’re upset. Would you like an ale?”
He shook his head because he didn’t. He didn’t want an ale or a meat pie or anything else. And he sure as hell didn’t want another lass. “Nay, I wish to see my wife.”
“Your wife? I may have agreed to speak to Arnald for you, but I surely did not approve of the match.”
“When we left you here, we went out to the loch. Father MacKenzie was in the chapel, and he married us, according to Scottish law.”
The earl chuckled. “Now you are telling tales. Thane land is the land of King Edward. He governs this land, not Scottish law. And there is no Father MacKenzie. He hasn’t been here in a long time.”
Alick couldn’t believe the words coming from the man’s lips. His behavior was completely different when Branwen was not within hearing. “Mayhap you’ve never met him, but I saw him with my own eyes. The priest married us.”
“I find it unlikely, under the circumstances, that you would have been able to consummate this fictional marriage of yours. Consummation will settle it, and her father expects to have the bedding ceremony on the morrow. I’ll not allow you to see my niece and upset her. Branwen is a good lass, no matter what her sire says of her. My sister gave me the honor of protecting her interests. As such, I ask you to take your leave.”
Alick couldn’t stop himself. “And is it part of your honor to allow her father to beat her? Because I’ve seen it with my own eyes. Have you never wondered where she gets all those bruises? Would your sister be proud of how well you watch over her daughter? Or is lying the way of everyone on Thane land?”
The earl bolted out of his seat, red-faced, and said, “How dare you speak to me in such a way! You are no longer welcome here. Guards!” The door opened quickly and the earl ordered, “Escort this fool outside our gates. Do not allow him out of your sight until he’s outside the portcullis.”
Alick chuckled. “I guess that answers my question, does it not? Your guilt will continue to eat at you. I pity you.”
“Out!”
“And you won’t stop me either. I’ll leave your land, but I will get my wife back.” Then he yelled out, “Branwen, I’ll be back for you.”
The two guards each gave him a shove, but he ignored them and glanced over his shoulder at Cargill. “If ’tis a thousand Grant warriors you want, ’tis exactly what you’ll get.”
One of the guards gave him another shove, but Alick grabbed the fool’s wrist and twisted it behind his back, shoving the man hard against the wall. “Take your hand off me, or you will be the first one I come to kill when I return for my wife.”
He left the solar and found his way back out through the gates, the guards directly behind him. When he retrieved his horse, he thought to talk to the stablemaster, but the man was busy in conversation with someone else.
At this point, he had to hope that Dyna had located her. The earl was correct on one point. If she still had her maidenhead, Ware could claim her under English law.
He also had to think of his mother. It was important to find Branwen fast so he could get back to MacLintock Castle in time.
Dyna, find her. The only thing he had left at this point was faith in his cousin. If anyone could locate her in this large castle, it was Dyna.
He flicked the reins of his horse and headed back to their meeting point.
With his heart hurting more than it ever had before.
***
Branwen sat on her pallet shivering. The thin plaid she had didn’t do much to keep her warm. She hadn’t realized how cold the cellars were, even in the summer, but then again, there was no hearth anywhere to be seen.
She huddled into a ball, breathing slowly to stop herself from crying. When her father returned, she didn’t want him to see the tears on her cheeks.
There was no sound yet from the cell down the passageway from her, but she didn’t think the other chamber was close enough for her to hear or be heard. They’d also said they’d given their other prisoner a potion, so the man probably wouldn’t awaken until the morn.
Who could he be? She didn’t even know if the other prisoner was a man, but it seemed like a safe guess. They probably didn’t frequently imprison females…although what did she know? She hadn’t thought the cellars were in use—at least not these cells—but the guards talked as if they knew them well. How ignorant she’d been about what was going on in her own castle.
Could the prisoner have something to do with King Edward’s war on Robert the Bruce? No one had ever spoken to her about the war before—other than Alick, briefly—and she’d been too caught up in the drudgery and busyness of her life to pay much attention. The discussions she overheard were usually conducted in low, whispering tones.
She stopped because she heard something down the passageway. Sure enough, light steps could be heard coming toward her, the kind she would expect to be from a female or a young lad. Sitting up on her pallet, she leaned back against the wall and waited, hoping to catch sight of the person coming her way. Hoping it wasn’t another enemy.
The boot steps halted close to her door. How desperately she wished to peek out the window, but she didn’t dare take the risk.
She waited for something to happen, her heart in her throat, but boots suddenly came thundering down the staircase, and the light footsteps hurried away.
One of the guards came along and opened the door, tossing another plaid at her and giving her a fresh pitcher of water with a hunk of cheese. He said nothing, so she didn’t speak either. He closed the door, locked it, then left, mumbling what she thought was, “Daft lass. Do what you’re told.”
She sprung into action as soon as he walked away, tucking the cheese into her pocket and wrapping the plaid around her body to calm her shivering. And then she tiptoed to the door and peeked out her window to see if the light steps returned.
There was enough noise abovestairs it would likely muffle the sound of the steps. There were many more people abovestairs than usual. She guessed them to be men, because they had heavy bootsteps. There was no yelling, so she doubted an attack was underway, and the lack of music indicated it was neither a festival nor a celebration. So why would there be more men in the great hall?
The person with the light tread probably had not come from the great hall. Would they return? Her best plan was to pray it was Fia or someone else who could help her.
She held her body back from the window, attempting to see without being seen, and waited.
It felt like she stood that way forever, but then a face she recognized appeared in the window.
Dyna.
She was so grateful to see a friendly face she almost tripped in her haste to get to the window. “The key,” she said, pointing. But fear slipped over her as she looked at the empty nail where she’d seen the guards hang it. No key.
Dyna grinned and held it up to the window. “You mean this one? I thought you might be the daft lass he was cursing about.” She unlocked the door and pulled it open, closing it after Branwen exited the cell.
“We’re going out the back,” Dyna whispered.
“Many thanks.” She took the others lass’s hand and squeezed it.
“Thank me later. We have to get out of here and you’ll have to be really quiet. There’s a gathering abovestairs, though I don’t know why.”
Branwen just nodded, and Dyna led the way to the back entrance out of the keep. They saw no one, and no one stopped them—the majority of the people probably gathered in the hall—but then Dyna stopped her. “I left my horse behind the back curtain wall. Can you climb?”
“Aye, with a wee boost.” She’d get over that wall if she had to climb ten trees.
Fortunately, it only took one. Dyna led her to the tree she’d used, gave her a quick boost, and within minutes they both landed on top of the wall. “I’ll drop down first,” Dyna said. “You have a gown on. I�
�ll catch you.”
Once they were both on the ground, Dyna said, “Hold still. You’ll not be able to run if you have that gown hanging about your legs.” She reached for the skirt between Branwen’s legs, then pulled it up and tied the folds of fabric around her waist. Then she helped her mount and climbed up behind her.
They left and Branwen had to fight the urge to cry because she was so happy to leave Thane Castle. To be with a friend. She said a quick prayer for them to get away safely. They rode carefully for about a half an hour, until they were far away from the keep that they’d not be seen by the guards, then set the horse to a gallop.
A few minutes later, she noticed a horse that looked distinctly like Shadow with a man standing not far away from it. Dyna headed straight for him, and Branwen’s heart pounded in her chest—did she dare hope?
When they were nearly upon him, she could finally detect the outline of Alick’s handsome profile. Dyna stopped her horse and let Branwen down, saying, “Look who I found in the dungeon, Alick.”
The only thing she could do was run to him.
Branwen raced toward him, tears blinding her vision as she threw herself into his waiting arms. She sobbed for a few minutes before remembering she couldn’t relax yet. They still had to find Lora and get away.
Alick cupped the back of her head and whispered in her ear, “You are hale, lassie mine?”
She pulled back and nodded. “Many thanks to you. It was horrible. Please, we must get far away. My sire will not stop. He hates me. I never wish to see him again.”
Alick tipped her head toward the moonlight, his expression hardening, then said, “I see that. Which bastard hit you this time?”
“Please, can we not talk later? Osbert Ware’s eldest daughter came with me. We must find her. I left her in a cave, and she had little to eat. She’s probably so scared…”
“Slow down,” Dyna said. “How far away is the cave?”
Branwen stepped away from the horses to check the area, then pointed to the forest. “We can go through there. ’Tis not far.”
Alick settled her on his horse and said, “Lead the way, but first I must find our guards.” Once they found the others, he led the way, following Branwen’s instructions to the cave. A few moments later, Branwen told him to slow down because she thought they were close to the hidden place. She scanned the entire area, looking for the burn because the sound of the wind drowned out the rush of flowing water. “Stop here,” she said. “I’m afraid we’ll scare her. I hope naught has happened to her.”
Alick helped her down and she pointed in the direction of the cave. “’Tis behind those branches.” She decided it would be best to warn her. “Lora?”
Dyna came up behind her. “She left her father’s house with you? How many years is she?”
“Aye, she didn’t like what he became after they lost their mother. I didn’t blame her, and I thought she’d follow me anyway. She’s a sweet lass of five and ten.”
“You must have an interesting story to tell us.”
She glanced at Dyna and whispered, “I do. But I wish not to think on it for a while.”
“When you’re ready,” Dyna said, patting her shoulder.
“Lora?” Branwen called out again.
The poor girl’s face, tear-stained and dirty, appeared in the mouth of the cave. “Branwen? You are here?”
“Aye, I am fine.”
Lora ran out and launched herself at her. “I feared I’d never see you again.”
“Come, gather what things you have. I’ll get my sack, then we must go before they discover my absence. And grab our bows. Father planned on bringing Osbert to the castle. Said the bedding ceremony would take place in front of him.”
Dyna snorted.
Alick’s expression darkened. “You are jesting with me. I’ve heard of bedding ceremonies, but your own father?”
“I’ll explain everything, but please. We must hurry. I don’t wish to ever be in the dungeon again.” She headed into the cave and helped Lora gather and fold their plaids. “Here. I have a hunk of cheese. You are welcome to it, Lora. At least they fed me something.”
They left after the lass ate her meager meal, and Alick tied their sacks to his horse, his gaze lowering to the bows. “You’ve been practicing?”
Branwen nodded. “Lora, this is Dyna. She’s the one who was trained by Gwyneth Ramsay.”
Lora started at Dyna with wide eyes. “Branwen taught me some, and I practiced the whole time she was gone. Will you help me sometime? Please?” She asked it in the way of someone who was accustomed to being refused—but there was such hope in her voice, in her gaze, that Branwen hoped she would get what she wanted for once. She deserved it.
“Of course, but later. For now, you may ride with me,” Dyna offered.
The lass shook her head slowly. “We have a horse. I can ride pretty well.”
They mounted and headed out, but as soon as they left, the sounds of horses carried to them.
“There they are! Kill them!”
Five guards wearing the earl’s plaid were in pursuit.
Chapter Fifteen
Alick cursed and called out, “Dyna, set yourself.” He slowed his horse and lowered Branwen to the ground, yelling out to Lora. “Into the trees. Hide yourselves.”
Branwen raced away, and Dyna hid her horse in the trees before disappearing into them herself. Meanwhile, Alick stood his ground with the three guards. He could have ridden to meet their attackers, but he wished for them to be close enough for Dyna’s arrows.
He heard Dyna giving instructions on where Branwen and Lora were to go, then saw the first arrow sluice through the sky and hit its mark in the heart of one of the guards. But what surprised him was the second arrow that came directly behind the first one, felling another man.
That couldn’t have been Dyna.
He glanced over his shoulder, surprised to see all three lasses had their bows raised. Another man fell off his horse, making the numbers now more to their favor. They had indeed been practicing. Alick bellowed the Grant war whoop, going after the bastard in front, taking him down with one thrust of his sword. The three other Grant guards headed toward the remaining men, one of whom now had an arrow in his leg. Another arrow struck the wounded man so hard it took the target right off his mount.
The skirmish didn’t take long, but he bellowed to Dyna, “We have to move before they send more after us.”
There was so much chaos, with horses running wild and cries of pain from the two men still alive, that Alick barked instructions to the three guards. “You’ll take the rear. Dyna,” he said, turning to her as she and the lasses approached them, “take Lora with you. Branwen, hold your arms out and I’ll lift you.”
The plan worked perfectly, and in a manner of a few minutes, the group of seven left, heading straight for MacLintock land.
After half an hour of pushing their mounts, Alick slowed from a full gallop to a canter, traveling through a ravine that could prove tricky in the dark.
“You are hale, lass?” he asked, when he knew she could hear him.
“Aye, I’m fine. I’m so grateful you came for me.” She turned her head around and sweetly kissed his cheek.
“’Tis all you offer for risking ourselves? I think a kiss on the lips would be far more appropriate.”
She giggled and brushed a quick kiss on his lips.
“’Tis the best you can do?” he drawled.
“Aye, ’tis all you get. I don’t wish for you to lead our horse into a tree.” She gave him her back and leaned against him.
His chin settled on the top of her head for a second. “So you were forced to marry Osbert?”
She sighed, glancing over her shoulder at him. “The man I detest arranged it, though knowing we’d already married made me feel better about it.”
“’Tis a good thing we found that priest while we waited for your uncle to consider my offer.”
“Aye. How did you know it would be necessary? I hoped my
uncle would support us.”
Alick kissed her temple. “These are trying times. I suspect your uncle has passed his allegiance on to King Edward’s son. From what I see, Robert the Bruce will continue to fight until he secures his throne. He’ll head into the Highlands to seek allegiance from the lairds who still withhold it, your uncle being one of them. There’ll be war sooner than later. Do not take this as an insult, but I suspect your uncle was so consumed with the situation unfolding in Scotland he decided to leave the matter of your husband to your father.”
“And my father took advantage of my uncle’s distraction to get rid of me.”
“I’m afraid you’re probably correct.” Alick knew how much her father’s ill treatment hurt her. He couldn’t bring himself to tell her that her uncle had spoken of her so dismissively.
“Did you tell anyone we married?” she whispered, knowing Dyna was too far behind them to overhear their conversation.
“Aye, though I haven’t had the chance to speak with my parents.” He squeezed her waist. “Branwen, my mother has been kidnapped, so that will take my next focus.”
“Kidnapped?” she said, jumping a little in the saddle. “What happened? How did you learn of it?”
“My uncle rode in from Grant Castle with the news. We’re to bring Grandsire to Glasgow two days from now. They claim they’ll return Mama in exchange for him. I’m so grateful you’re with me, and that you’re safe, but I’ll have to leave for Glasgow soon. I must focus on saving my mother. I fear there won’t be any celebration of our marriage until we have Mama and Grandpapa back.”
It wasn’t the reception he wished to have for her, but he would atone for it later.
She sighed. “As long as we are together, I will be fine.”
The Scot's Pursuit (Highland Swords Book 3) Page 12
