Finding My Highlander

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Finding My Highlander Page 21

by Aleigha Siron


  Senga squeezed Andra’s shoulder, let a whimper pass her lips, and took Isabel’s extended hand. They climbed high into the tree as Andra took off at a full gallop bent on keeping their pursuers away from the girls. The thick blanket of debris on the forest floor might provide sufficient coverage to hide her trail. An urgent refrain, whispered like a mantra, beat against her brain. “The girls must not be found; the girls must not be found.”

  A loud clap of thunder rumbled, then another. The heavens opened a deluge over her head. Andra prayed to every deity she could name, including the spirit of the horse under her, who sped through the forest like a wild demon.

  “There they are!” A man called out. He had spotted her darting through the trees.

  She glimpsed a road ahead on her right, bent tight against the horse’s withers, and galloped forth. The open road would allow her greater speed than skirting through trees, especially since her pursuers rapidly closed the distance between them. The men screamed their war calls, and she screamed one of her own, calling upon ancestors known and unknown to give wings to her frantic flight.

  A man on a huge, brown charger tried to cut off her slathering horse. Skirting his attempt to stop her, Andra kicked hard on the sides of the poor animal giving his all to aid her escape. She had managed to ride a good distance from where she’d hidden the girls. She prayed it was far enough. Eventually, Lucas pulled up to her right side and grabbed the reins out of her hands.

  Captured. She cried in her heart, but released no tears to reveal her emotions to the men.

  Lucas reached over and pulled Andra onto his horse. For a young man he possessed surprising strength. “I’ll take the woman,” he shouted. “Stay between Cormag and me. I don’t want him anywhere near us until the colonel returns,” he ordered the soldier beside them.

  Cormag pulled up behind, screaming. “Where are the other whores? She kens the MacLean’s hiding place and hid the women there. Give her to me. I’ll get the location out of her one way or another.” He was slathering and foaming at the mouth worse than the exhausted horse under him.

  “You’re not in charge here, Cormag. You’ll not touch the woman. I follow the colonel’s orders. Take it up with him when he returns.” Lucas turned his horse and headed back to their camp at a trot.

  As soon as they rode away, he leaned against her ear and whispered, “I apologize, my lady, but don’t fear. I won’t turn you over to Cormag for any reason. At least you hid the girls.”

  Chapter Thirty-One

  Kendrick and his men reached the MacLean borders a few hours after leaving the keep. They chased the thieving Camerons into the hills. The reivers left most of the cattle behind in their flight. A few men took charge and moved them back to their grazing grounds on MacLean lands. Kendrick and the remaining men spotted a herd of deer and killed three, which they dressed in the field. They roasted some of the meat over an open fire and strung up the rest to dry. Their stomachs full, satisfied with their day’s work, the men bedded down for the night.

  Kendrick and Rabbie took the first watch, walking through the tree line. They hadn’t spoken about Andra again since she’d revealed her secrets earlier that morning.

  “Have you given further thought to Andra’s story, cousin?”

  “Aye, ‘tis all I can think about.” He rubbed his hands through his thick hair and across the back of his neck. “It staggers the imagination, but regardless of how incredible her confession sounds, I believe she tells the truth”

  “Aye, I concur,” Rabbie whistled through his teeth. “Now that she’s trusted us with these burdensome secrets, we must protect her from those who might use or injure her for that information. Dinnae you agree?”

  Kendrick leaned against the trunk of a large beech tree, shaking his head as he spoke. “The questions that remain are: what do we do with this information? How does it affect our clan? Why did providence send her to us? And what do we do about the lass now?”

  He couldn’t imagine her with anyone else, nor could he fathom not having her in his life. He had claimed her with his body. He desired her with an unquenchable fire that burned his loins. It was lust. It was passion. She was maddening, obstinate, alluring, and no matter how much he tried to deny it, he wanted her as his own.

  “Well, if you’ll forgive the intrusion, cousin, it seems pretty clear to me what you want to do with the lass. Yet, dinnae you think she deserves a proper commitment and a home where she’ll be protected?”

  Kendrick glared at Rabbie, but acknowledged the sentiment, “Aye, that she does.”

  “Sooo…” Rabbie drew out the word before launching into dangerous territory. “You plan to find her a husband within the clan, then? ‘Tis not my plan to wed yet, but I’d take her off your hands if you wish. You ken I’d protect her with my life.”

  Kendrick repressed an urge to smash his cousin’s face. “Stop provoking me, Rabbie. You’ll not be wedding the lass and neither will anyone else.” He responded with more vehemence than he’d intended. “‘Tis too dangerous to trust anyone with her secrets, and you ken it.”

  “Umm, that’s true. I think you’re in serious danger.” Rabbie turned away, but Kendrick didn’t miss the smirk on his cousin’s face.

  “What? What are you blathering about?” Rabbie was like a dog with a bone. He would not relent now.

  “I think she has captured your interest more than you wish to reveal, even to yourself.” Rabbie chuckled and stepped away, putting his hands up in a defensive gesture.

  “She’s been accepted by most of the clan. A few dissenters remain, but none of consequence and they’ll come around eventually. Mayhap you should marry the lass. She’s spirited, strong, and fearless as any warrior, you ken. What more could a laird need or want in a mate? And her lovely wee voice could make angels rejoice, and sooth your frayed nerves. Besides, marrying her would certainly provide the protection she needs.”

  Rabbie’s eyebrows rose precipitously, and he took a step back from Kendrick. “I’m just saying what you’re think’n, and you ken it. Now it’s up to you, Laird, to do the right thing.

  “Mayhap she’s been accepted. But…” Kendrick couldn’t finish his train of thought because it spun into the universe with too many possibilities, none of which he was ready to consider, much less discuss with Rabbie.

  “She wants to return to her home, to the life she knew and understood. I keep trying to conceive how I would react and manage if I were in her place. It boggles the mind to think on it.”

  The cousins stared into the woods, sheltering their own thoughts on the situation. “I think I’ll turn in. I want to leave before first light on the morrow. I’ll get John to join you on watch.” Kendrick went to his bedroll knowing sleep would desert him this night.

  After only a few hours’ rest, the men packed up the meat and headed for home. They rode out long before the first light of dawn and proceeded at a leisurely pace. When they reached a point a little over an hour’s ride from the castle, a fast rider approached them. It was Struan, who had stayed at the castle with Lorne.

  “MacLean, I have grave news for you. I’m sorely sorry to tell you that your father passed early this morn. Men have been disbursed to find you, and also to inform your allies.”

  The news didn’t surprise Kendrick but the grievous loss pained him just the same. The men passed the news along the line.

  “Davey,” he called to one of them, “pick a few lads to help you with the meat, travel as fast as you can, but take care to not lose any in your haste.” To the rest of the men he yelled, “We ride hard lads, keep up as you can.” He spurred his horse to a hard gallop flanked by Rabbie and Struan.

  * * *

  There was considerable commotion in the bailey as they rode over the barbican and through the gatehouse. Lorne sat astride a big, dapple-gray warhorse in the center of the bailey barking orders. A contingent of men dressed for battle steadied their mounts.

  “Brother,” Lorne called to Kendrick over the clamor. “Jesus,
praise the saints you have arrived.”

  “Och, what are you preparing for?” This level of activity was not in response to his father’s death.

  “Isabel, Senga, and Andra are missing.”

  He hissed, his nostrils flaring and his mouth flattening into a hard grimace. “Are you certain? When did you discover their absence?” This news ripped through Kendrick as swiftly and harshly as if struck by an enemy’s claymore. He knew his brother would have combed every inch of the castle, outbuildings, even the village before he’d make such a claim.

  Lorne directed the stable lads to saddle fresh horses for Kendrick, Rabbie, and Struan. “Aye, we’re certain they’re gone. You were correct to distrust that bitch, Vera. One of the stable lads said she took old Bessie out before dawn, when we sent messengers about Da to our allies. Last night she told mother that Andra had stayed at widow MacAllis’ and that Isabel and Senga had asked for a night alone in Isabel’s chambers. Yet no one ever saw the girls return to the castle from their foray to the loch. And Alith said she last saw Andra when they sat together in the herb garden yesterday afternoon. Therefore, she was not with the lasses.”

  “Widow MacAllis never saw anyone yesterday. An hour ago, we found the body of the lad who had accompanied the girls as their guard. Someone had cut his throat and evidence of at least five riders trampled the ground near his body. There was no sign of the girls. We found the guard at the edge of the meadow on the north side of the loch.” ‘Tis one of their favorite spots to gather wildflowers and herbals. Unfortunately, that location brings them verra close to the forest and is not visible to the tower guards.”

  “Has anyone found Vera?” Kendrick asked as he jumped from his horse.

  “Nae, but we found old Bessie wondering near the abandoned hut outside the northeast side of the village. The hut showed signs of recent occupation. A lone horse rode out from there. We sent a few men to follow each path. One returned a short while ago with this.” He pulled a woman’s shoe from under his plaid. “Mother says it belonged to Andra.”

  Lorne handed him the soft, leather slipper his mother had given Andra during her first days at the castle. “Aye, ‘tis hers. Damnation! Lorne, this could be another trap. Mayhap the reivers at the northern border were a ruse to pull a contingent of our warriors away from the castle. Those miscreants left in a hurry, and we recaptured most of the cattle far too easily, without any man injured. I kenned something about that felt wrong.”

  He wanted to scream. His battle cry would reverberate through the hills when he rode out of the bailey. Everyone would know Laird MacLean rode to battle, and he would take no prisoners. If those whoresons had harmed one hair on his sister’s or Andra’s head, he would flay them alive and rip out their still beating hearts.

  “I’ll take your horse, Lorne. We cannae all leave. This could be another ruse to weaken our security and attempt to capture the castle. I’ll take Rabbie, Struan, and your fresh men and leave you with my men, who will arrive shortly with fresh kill we dressed in the field. Have you sent riders to the Keiths and McDuffs yet?”

  “Aye, men have been dispatched. Riders left before dawn to notify the clans about father. We expect allied lairds should arrive within the next few days to pay their respects. They will have men at arms with them. We can count on those men to help reclaim our women and protect the castle if an attack is imminent. I understand your request that I stay, Kendrick, but I don’t like it at all. I’d much prefer to accompany you and the men.” Lorne’s horse skittered under him.

  “Aye, I ken you want to join this fight, but I need you here, Lorne.”

  As the men mounted fresh horses, Beatrice came out of the keep with Alith clinging to her arm. Their eyes were red and moist with unshed tears and Beatrice’s voice hitched as she tried to speak. “My sons, you must bring our ladies home. My heart cannae lose our daughters too.”

  “Aye mother, we will bring them back. For now, Lorne will stay behind to direct messengers and secure the castle. We’ll send word back as we discover information.” Kendrick did not miss that his mother referred to all the women as her daughters. He blinked a moment at how right her words sounded to his ears.

  “Has Father been placed in the chapel?”

  “Aye. If you’re delayed for more than two days, we’ll inter him. Do you wish to join me and pay your last respects before you depart?”

  Hesitating but a moment, Kendrick turned and sped to the chapel. After uttering words of prayer and pleading for his sire’s guidance, he kissed his mother’s cheek then ran back to the bailey. Alith waited beside his horse. She laid her hand across Kendrick’s shoulder. “Andra is ours, lad, I feel it in me bones. We must get all of them back.”

  “I will not fail them or you. Take care of mother.” He kissed the old woman’s forehead and leaped on his brother’s mount. In a cloud of dust and gravel, he and the men sped from the bailey, the air reverberating with their war cries.

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  Andra felt as though she’d been riding through a nightmare for weeks, and it culminated in this horrid camp she had escaped only hours ago, though it seemed like days. Lucas dismounted and pulled her down with him. He returned her to the tent she had previously occupied, bound her hands, and attached the rope to the tent pole again. “I’m sorry, my lady. I cannot do else for you right now. The best I can do is to keep Cormag and his men away from you until the colonel returns. Then it will be up to him to decide what will happen next.”

  “He’s not likely to be very kind toward me, but I thank you for your earlier help getting the girls away from this cursed place.” There was no sense antagonizing the man. She understood he simply performed his duty and had put his head on the line attempting to help them earlier.

  “Do they know you helped me?” she whispered.

  “No, and if you tell them, they will shoot me as a traitor.” He looked beseechingly at her, his head tilted to the side. “I told them you must have snatched a knife and cut your rope during the melee that occurred at Cormag’s tent when he killed the girl. Their men’s subsequent fight provided a plausible distraction for that to occur.” He hesitated for a moment. “Since I value my neck I will deny any other story.”

  “Of course. I understand.” The likelihood that he could aid her in another attempted escape was slim to non-existent.

  “Do you know why they want me? I am no one. I have no family who can ransom me, no one who will come to my rescue. Although kind enough to give me shelter, I mean nothing to the MacLeans. I am of no value to anyone.” Her voice sounded desperate, whiny. She could feel a trickle of sweat sluice down her back and under her breasts.

  “Obviously the colonel and Cormag believe The MacLean will come for you. They both have long-standing grudges against the man and his brother, each for his own reasons. I don’t know much else. I’ll bring you something to eat in a while.” He left and stood outside the tent with another guard.

  Cormag tried to obtain her release to him, but the guards and other soldiers pulled their weapons insisting they wait for the colonel. Andra wanted to stay alert, but a deep weariness settled over her. The rush of adrenaline that had served in their earlier escape abated, and all remaining reserves floated away like a puff of smoke. A fitful sleep took her into the depths of dark and disjointed nightmares.

  Awareness of firm hands lifting her to a standing position worked through the fog of her exhaustion. She snapped her eyes open and tried to pull away. Her hands were still bound to the pole and every part of her body rebelled toward collapse.

  “Stand up, woman! The colonel wants to speak with you.” One of the men who had been on guard outside the tent forced her to her feet.

  “I need to tend to my personal needs first.”

  “Fine, but don’t try anything. You’ll not escape from me.” Other than Lucas, these soldiers were of the same ilk as Cormag’s men. With the least provocation, any one of them would cause her serious harm. She seethed and felt an overwhelming urge to kick h
im in the nuts. Unfortunately, that would accomplish nothing but a punch or smack, or worse.

  The guard pushed her inside the colonel’s tent. Though he must have recently returned, someone had polished his boots and his jacket was spotless. The scarf at his neck and his breeches revealed a few stains that marred his otherwise pristine attire. She suspected it annoyed him greatly. He brushed at some non-existent debris on his sleeves and stared at her, the scar pulling his mouth into a twisted, leering scowl.

  He turned, angling the scarred side of his face in shadow, “I hear you’ve had an adventurous day, Lady Andra.”

  A wicked dagger appeared in his ungloved hand as he strutted across the space between them.

  This is it.

  He moved until she could feel his breath on her face, and struggled to maintain a calm veneer while she held her breath. She flinched, surprised when he slit the ropes binding her wrists. The sudden release caused a sharp pain in her stiff shoulders, but she refused to rub the pain away. He moved to stand a few feet in front of her.

  “Where did you leave the girls?”

  “I don’t know.” She vowed not to give him any information about their escape.

  “Who aided your escape?”

  Lifting her chin, refusing to look away, she kept her voice firm and low. “You don’t think women are clever enough to act on their own behalf when threatened by ruthless cutthroats and rapists?”

  He moved the dagger under her throat so swiftly she had no time to step away.

  “Don’t antagonize me, Lady Andra, or you will see just how ruthless I can be. I’ve had a tiring day, and my patience wears thin.”

  Her heart thudded in her chest. She watched his eyes drop to the vein that pulsed blood through her neck. No doubt, the vein he planned to slice with his wicked knife. “Surely your men have filled you in on what transpired in your absence. There is little I can add to that.” She hated the strangled hitch in her voice.

 

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