Highland Captive

by Mary McCall

  When Father Cunningham came to the clan with the news of Struan's passing, the clan grieved their loss. Duncan chuckled in her ear and pointed out ‘twas difficult to tell which they mourned more—the loss of the man or his brews.

  Edeen's efforts over the next five days to help Alera reach Megan were to no avail. The child took off like a rabbit with a wolf on its tail the instant she spotted Alera.

  Another boom rent the night. Alera shivered and snuggled under the pelts.

  The Highlands will always be a part of me, Alera. And I have wonderful memories. But my home is here with your father now. Always remember, sometimes we search so hard for something we want, then fate deals us a different lot. We struggle and fight destiny until we come to realize what she provided is what we wanted all along

  Alera buried her face in Duncan's pillow. Why had Mama's words come to her now? She heard them as clearly as if she were still the precocious eight-year-old sitting on her mother's lap. Was Mama calling to her from the grave? Could Mama believe she belonged here with Duncan?

  He drew her as none other, filled her every waking thought. When she had thought he was going to war, her chest constricted so tight she couldn't breathe. She wanted to stay with Duncan.

  But she had to find Papa. Her loyalty must be to him first.

  Damn the barbarian! He was too enticing and had done an excellent

  job of wooing his way into her heart.

  Alera bolted upright in bed. “Help me, Henry. I am in love with Duncan Ranald."

  She covered her face with her hands and groaned. “How can I love someone who keeps me against my will and forces me to do sinful things I do not want to do?"

  Alera rolled her eyes and snorted. “Well, all right! I do want to do them. He still does not love me. He even said he is not too fond of me."

  A belabored groan passed her lips. “Welladay! Bring up that I told him I hated him first. He still does not love me. With my loss of control every time he touches me, I am bound to bellow the truth in his ears."

  Pushing her fingers through her curls, she sighed. “Oh, Henry, help me know the right thing to do. Should I stay and wed Duncan even though he does not love me? And what of Papa? I can find no peace until I know his fate. ‘Tis a matter of loyalty. Papa must come first.” Alera wiped her hand over her face. “With your help or without it, Henry, I leave on the morrow."

  Brilliant light flashed in the chamber. For an instant, Alera half-expected Henry to appear. Then a tremendous boom shook the earth.

  "Faith, Henry, you do not have to yell. I will stay until Megan is whole. But it would certainly make my life easier if you would speak with her angel guardian. ‘Tis my opinion the lot of you are grown too lax."

  Alera slammed her fist into Duncan's pillow and rolled to her other side. “'Tis too cold and I am too restless to sleep."

  A spicy aroma wafted up from the pillow. Alera closed her eyes, inhaling the savage scent. A smile curved her lips, and she pulled the pillow to her chest. Morpheus reached for her, drew her into Duncan's arm. She relaxed and joined her barbarian in her dreams.

  "Well, mum, it be past the nooning and the lass has not come,” Edeen rejoined Alera in the kitchen. “I do not expect her today. She sometimes stays away for weeks after a storm, poor lamb."

  Alera rubbed her brow and sighed. She desperately wanted to reach Megan, so she could refocus on escape. “Mayhap I can corner her in her chamber. Would you occupy Isobel for me?"

  "I can try, but the haughty witch cares not for me. She has taken to riding the northwest trail up to the cliffs about this time of day. You may be able to get into the lass's chamber without a problem."

  "I will try. Though I should warn you, if the harpy is there and tries to interfere, I will probably kill her. Then the laird will have to kill me, too."

  "If you do that, mum, you might as well know, most of the clan would not consider it a crime.” She took some oatcakes from the counter and wrapped them in a linen square. “Might even plead to the laird for you myself."

  "I may remind you of those words soon. My rages are no jesting

  matter."

  "I wasn't jesting."

  Alera arched a brow.

  Edeen place the wrapped oatcakes in Alera's hand. “Take these to the wee lassie.” She went to her worktable and kneaded brown dough. “Struan came to bid me farewell afore he died. I will not be telling your secret or his. You just go find Megan. The lass needs your gift."

  While making her way to Megan's chamber, Alera stuffed the oatcakes into her kirtle pocket and considered Edeen's words. The old cook hadn't made the dreaded accusations of witchery or demon possession. Nor had she seemed surprised about Alera's deadly rage. Edeen had actually told her to make use of her gift.

  Alera knocked on Megan's door. Silence greeted her. She pushed on the portal, which creaked open.

  The smell of urine and feces almost drove her back. She gagged on rising bile and entered the chamber. There was no sign of Megan, but old dirty gowns torn into rags lay almost everywhere along with the sources of the horrendous odor. Putrid water covered part of the floor by the window. She shuddered, feeling grimy and in need of a bath from just being in the chamber.

  Her gaze shifted toward the bed and her heart skipped a beat. Strips were tied to the frame as if to hold someone captive. She remembered a similar scene. She had been six. Daryl's chamber had looked much as Megan's when she went with her parents to save her cousin and bring him to Arundrydge.

  Isobel! The viper was responsible for this outrage. The woman had a mean streak as wide as Loch Ness. Alera knew the witch liked to inflict emotional pain from the way she treated others at court. But this physical torture... Alera clenched her fists as fury festered within her. She wouldn't abide the woman's presence at Laidirkin for a moment longer than it took to kill the evil snake. She would blister Duncan's ear over this, too. He would never have sanctioned this ill-treatment. He said he stayed away from Megan because she feared him and he didn't want to add to her distress. But did he not at least look in upon his daughter upon occasion?

  She has taken to riding the northwest trails up to the cliffs about this time of day. Edeen's words haunted Alera. She couldn't say why, but she knew without a doubt that Isobel intended to kill Megan. Gripping terror for the child twisted her gut, prodded her rage.

  The demon unleashed.

  Blinded by fury, she raced from the keep toward the stables. A bay stallion pranced about the paddocks while Geddes, Logan, and other clansmen looked on. Alera released a melodious call.

  The horse spun toward her then broke into a run. The bay cleared the arena's four-foot rail. Nearing Alera, he slowed. Ignoring the stunned clansmen, she grabbed the stallion's mane and leapt astride his bareback. Urging the beast into full gallop, she hastened toward the northwest trail.

  Enraged voices cried out, but she paid the warriors no heed. Her heart slammed in rhythm with the mighty steed's hooves. She had to find Megan.

  They reached the summit, and the horse slowed along the craggy cliff. Farther along the mountain trail, she spied something on the ground. She jumped from the stallion and ran. Megan's rag doll. The child was never without it.

  Alera looked out over the precipice at the sheer drop and sucked in a breath. “Oh, Henry, tell me I'm not too late!"

  A gusty wind blew. Raindrops pelted her with grueling force, subduing her rage, inspiring dread.

  Pounding hooves faded behind her and she turned. The bay sped back along the cliff toward Laidirkin. Lightning flashed. Thunder boomed. A keening whine pierced the roaring wind.

  Shivers skittered along Alera's spine. She turned toward the horrific sound. “Megan!"

  The keening continued. Alera followed the plea to its loudest point. She leaned over the cliff and thought the bottom might fall from her stomach. She had never been afraid of heights, but she had never dared the edge of a mountain gorge during a storm, either.

  A narrow ledge cropped out from the sheer
wall about ten feet below. Megan had curled up near the wall as fierce wind whipped rain upon her.

  "Don't move, Megan,” she called in Gaelic, not sure which language Megan understood best. “I'm coming to help you."

  The child didn't acknowledge her. Alera sat on the edge, turned around, and eased down. She dropped the last few feet and fell toward her side. She almost went over the ledge, but managed to heave herself back in the nick of time, scraping flesh from her palms and fingers. A wave of dizziness washed over her. She closed her eyes and swallowed hard, gritting her teeth against the stabbing pains in her hip, leg, and shoulder.

  Alera rolled to her hands and knees then crawled over to the girl. “Hello, wee one. Can you tell me where you hurt?"

  Megan scuttled away. A piece of the ledge broke off. Alera wrapped her arms around the child and pulled Megan onto her lap before they both went over. Alera pressed her back against the cliff wall. Megan kicked, bit, hit, and wailed. Unable to dodge the attack, Alera struggled to hold the girl's rain-slick flesh lest they both meet their Maker at the bottom of the chasm.

  "Do not be afeared, Megan. I promise I'll not harm you.” Teeth sank into Alera's shoulder as fingernails raked her neck. “Henry, I need some help here!"

  Megan went limp. Alera realized the child had passed out. Though whether from shock, pain, or fatigue, she didn't know.

  Adjusting Megan to a more secure position, Alera closed her eyes and tried to slow her breathing and shivering. “Henry, I know I'm spoiled, and I know my mischief exasperates you. But I need you now. Wrap your wings around me and help me help this child.” She wiped a trembling hand over her dripping face. “And please ask Almighty God to cease his tears."

  The wind eased, and the frigid rain ceased. The sun moved from behind the clouds, sending dazzling rays to warm her flesh. Then a brilliant rainbow arched the northern sky.

  Alera stared in awe at the marvelous beauty of changing creation. “Thank you, Henry. I need another favor. My wrath overrode my good sense again. If you are not of a mind to fly us back up, would you kindly send us a tow?"

  Baran and Ceallach swooped down from the sky and landed on the ledge beside her. “Hello, my friends. I suppose I should thank Henry again, considering your timing."

  A small gasp broke from Megan's lips. She clutched Alera's arm, tiny fingers digging into tender flesh. The girl focused on the hawks.

  "'Tis all right, Megan. These are my friends, Baran and Ceallach. They will not harm you."

  Megan turned her frenzied-and-pain-filled gaze on her savior. Her small body shook with terrified tremors.

  Alera grasped the child's hands and held her gaze captive. “Give me your pain, Megan."

  Clenching her jaw without breaking eye contact, Alera drew Megan's pain into herself and willed the child to trust her. Vibrations of agony shuddered through Alera. How could such a tiny body hold so much torment? When the flow ceased, she released Megan's gaze, so the pain would flee her own body. Exhausted, Alera closed her eyes and slumped against the cliff wall.

  A tiny finger grazed along her jaw. She lifted her lids and stared into two brilliant emerald eyes, so like her father's. They were filled with wonder.

  "Are you my heavenly guardian?” Her soft little girl voice lilted with angelic sweetness and curiosity.

  A tired smile crossed Alera's lips. She caressed the matted hair away from Megan's cheek. “Nay, lass. I am an angel helper. My name is Alera. Are you feeling any pain?"

  Megan shook her head, her mouth opened to a rounded O.

  "If you start hurting, tell me. We will see about having God take the pain away again. Do you understand?"

  The girl nodded, her expression unchanged.

  "How did you fall, Megan?"

  The girl's eyes glazed over, and she bowed her head. “I did not fall."

  Alera fought to suppress the primal growl welling up in her chest. Isobel had tried to kill Megan. “Will you hold still while I send Baran for help to get us off this ledge?"

  At Megan's nod, Alera eased the child from her lap to sit beside her. She pulled the dagger from her thigh sheath and cut off a lock of chestnut curls. Then she tied the hair into a knot. “Baran, my friend, kindly take this to the keep and drop it on Geddes. He'll be the biggest warrior, and he'll look the meanest. Guide him back here."

  Baran ducked his head and accepted the hair with a claw. Soaring from the ledge, he released a caw and headed for the keep. Ceallach warbled at Alera then followed.

  "I did not mean to kill her."

  Alera's heart clenched at the woe in the child's voice. “Who, Megan?"

  "My mam."

  "Ah, Megan.” She kissed the child's forehead. “You didn't kill her. Almighty God loved your mother so much. He took her to live with Him in Heaven. No one blames you."

  "Papa does.” Megan's lips trembled. “Grandmother says it be my fault and Struan's. Papa told her to hit me, so I would not forget."

  "Nay, Megan.” Alera cupped Megan's jaw and captured her gaze. “You will trust me on this. Your grandmother lied. Your papa never told her to hit you. He loves you very much and he's sad because you always run from him."

  Megan remained still for a moment then whispered, “Why?"

  Alera hugged the child and kissed her temple. “Ah, Megan, love, he did not know. And he will never let it happen again. Will you let me check now to see how badly you are injured?"

  Megan nodded. Alera gently prodded the child's limbs. Her demon festered as she beheld new and old bruises on Megan's body. She would wager most of them were not from landing on this ledge. Alera closed her eyes and mastered her rage, lest she frighten the girl.

  "Megan, love, you are bruised just about all over, but I cannot find any breaks. If you start hurting, tell me. But it must remain a secret between just us. No one else must know I took your pain. Can you keep my secret?"

  She nodded and her stomach grumbled. “I be hungry."

  "Now that I can help. At least if you do not mind soggy oatcakes that taste like wet wood.” Alera pulled the linen from her pocket. The oatcakes weren't soaked. They were crumbs. “Well now, Megan. They are not exactly cakes anymore, but mayhap they will quiet your belly. When we get back to the keep, we will have Edeen fix you a special meal. Then you can sleep with me tonight. How does that sound?"

  "Good, but...” Megan shook her head then leaned against Alera's chest and nibbled on the crumbs.

  "But what, Megan?"

  "I do not like being this dirty. Will you let me bathe and use the sweet soap so I can smell pretty like you?"

  "We'll make you smell like a blooming rosebush."

  Megan reached up and lightly traced a finger over a tender area on Alera's cheek. “I'm sorry I hit you and bit you."

  Alera took hold of Megan's fingers and kissed them. “Do not fash over it. A few bruises are worth the hurt if I get to see you a happy little girl. Tell me, lass, do you know English?"

  "What in perdition do you mean, she charged off on the beast?” Duncan bellowed, directing a thunderous glower at Geddes. Duncan had just returned and found his clansmen in an uproar. Alera had escaped. “Damn it all, she is a lady. She cannot ride without saddle nor bridle."

  Logan stepped forward. “It was like Geddes said, Duncan. The lass let out some kind of tune. Laddie took one look at her and jumped the paddock. Other than Lady MacPherson, I have never seen the like."

  "I rode after her,” Geddes said. “Lost her trail near the rocky ground. Then the storm broke. Laddie came charging back. The way the horses were sliding, I feared the lass might have taken a tumble. I came back for a tow."

  Duncan's heart lurched. This was no escape. Alera was in some kind of trouble. She wouldn't have taken off toward the north. Nor would she have left in plain view of a dozen clansmen. “Bridle the black mare while I get my mountain gear, Auggie. Then stable Rufus.” He looked at Geddes. “We leave as soon as I return."

  He rushed to his chamber. As he grabbed his rope and leather gaunt
lets, he detected Alera's scent lingering about the room. His breath hitched as he recalled she had once threatened to kill herself rather than sleep with an enemy. He raced down the stairs. He couldn't lose her. She was his. Damn it all, he would tie her to the bed next time he went anywhere. Better still, he would drag her along with him.

  The black mare was bridled and waiting. As he vaulted astride, a caw shrieked above. He glanced up, his face contorted with rage and worry. Two hawks circled. The larger bird flew toward him and dropped an object. He reached out and caught a knotted lock of chestnut curls.

  His heart stopped.

  Another caw resounded. The male hawk swooped and circled, flew toward the northwest trail then back to him.

  "The bird is signaling,” Logan declared.

  Duncan clutched the tresses in his fist and nudged the mare to a gallop, following the hawks. Geddes and Logan trailed him. At the cliff, the birds led Duncan about a stone's throw along the ridge then swooped over the edge, vanishing from sight.

  Duncan dismounted and ran toward where the hawks disappeared.

  "Alera!"

  "Duncan?"

  His heart started beating again.

  "Damn it, Alera,” he bellowed, moving in the direction of her voice.

  "Please calm down, Duncan. Your yelling is upsetting Megan, and she is hurt. Do you have a rope?"

  The two hawks soared off as he looked over the edge. He closed his eyes and took deep breaths to calm his racing heart. Thank the Almighty they had landed on that ledge. There were so few outcrops on the sheer wall. “How bad is my lassie?"

  "Bruised all over, but I could find no breaks."

  Duncan dropped down to the ledge. Megan squealed and clung to Alera. His gut twisted to see his wee faerie sprite so afraid of him.

  Alera looked exhausted. She took Megan's hands in hers and locked their gazes. “Megan, love, do you still trust me?"

  Megan gave her a tiny nod.

  "Then believe me when I tell you your father will never hurt you.” Alera held Megan's gaze, as if she would will his daughter to believe her words. He held his breath.