Kissing the Highlander

by Terry Spear

  She screamed. "How dare you? Beast!"

  He merely laughed. "Want me to do it again?"

  Suddenly, defeat pressed in on her and tears streamed from her eyes. She couldn't best this hulking guard. He was solid muscle and weighed near thrice as much as she did. Once he'd opened her bedchamber door, he carried her inside and tossed her onto the bed.

  Though she felt dizzy, she rolled toward the opposite side.

  Once her vision focused, she saw that he leered at her with lascivious interest. She couldn't remember his name, but she knew he was one of the new guards Elrick had hired.

  "What is going on, Maili?" Constance rushed forward. "Where have you been?"

  The guard cast a glower at her cousin, then trailed his lustful gaze over Maili again. Thank the saints her cousin was here. Though they were not close, Maili ran toward her and embraced her.

  "You can go now," she told the guard.

  He lifted a brow as if to say this wasn't finished. Once he'd exited, she barred the door from the inside.

  "Did the MacKenzie prisoner kidnap you when he escaped?" her cousin asked.

  Maili paced before the warm hearth. "I don't wish to speak of it now."

  Constance fell silent but Maili felt her gaze burning into her. "You helped him escape, did you not? You've been taking him food all week. Did he seduce you?"

  Maili stopped and glared. How could her cousin guess such things? "Nay!"

  Constance crossed her arms over her chest and cast a scornful look at Maili. "I don't believe you."

  "I want to be alone." Maili needed to think, plan her next course of action. Her brother would no doubt toss Shamus in the dungeon again, if he didn't kill him. Please, God, nay. Surely he wouldn't because he needed him alive in order to exchange him for the ransom.

  "Very well. But you are daft to help such an outlaw and scoundrel."

  "He is neither an outlaw nor a scoundrel!" Maili said.

  Her cousin removed the bar from the door and yanked at it, but it wouldn't budge.

  Maili felt sick. "Elrick had the guard lock me in."

  "But not me. I'm no traitor." Constance banged on the door. "Let me out of here!"

  Maili was no traitor either, at least not to her clan. Helping an innocent man escape didn't mean she'd betrayed her clan. She was trying to help them avoid attack. As for Elrick, she was no longer loyal to him.

  Several minutes later, a key rattled in the lock and the door opened. As her cousin left, her maid entered. And the guard outside quickly locked the door again. Thankfully, he was not the same one who had carried her in.

  "M'lady!" Anora rushed forward and grasped her hands. "Are you well? What happened?"

  "Aye, I'm fine. Don't fash. What is happening outside?"

  "The chief had the guards take MacKenzie to the dungeon."

  "Did they beat him?"

  Her maid swallowed hard. "I fear they did."

  The nausea churning through her increased. "That bastard," she said through clenched teeth. Was it a sin to hate one's own brother so? He was a vile, heartless man. She paced from the window to the door and back again. She could not abide it. She had to find a way to get to Shamus, to help him, to be with him. Her thoughts were a jumble and she could not think of a plan.

  Moments later, the key rattled in the lock. Mayhap she could run past the guard and escape, or bash him on the head. Frantically, she scanned the room for a weapon and her gaze landed on a stoneware jug.

  As she ran toward it, the bedchamber door slammed back against the wall. Elrick stood there, his broad shoulders blocking the doorway. Too late to surprise him with a jar to the head, she halted.

  "Out!" he yelled to Anora.

  Tears in her wide eyes, the young maid fled the room, and Elrick slammed the door behind her.

  "How could you betray me and the clan in such a way?" Elrick demanded. "I should deal with you as I would any traitor." He lurched forward and she ducked back, but not in time to avoid his fist flying toward her face. The blow to the jaw knocked her to the floor. Pain lanced through her face and shoulder which had struck the wood floor.

  "I cannot wait until you are gone from here with Sleat!" he growled. "I never want to lay eyes on you again, witch."

  Her throat closed on the shock and pain. Tears burned her eyes, more from the emotional pain than the physical, although both were severe. Elrick had never struck her before. Their father would've broken his nose if he had. She inhaled deeply, trying to regain her bearings. Remain calm.

  She hoped if she didn't respond to him or talk back, he would leave her be.

  "What do you have to say for yourself?" Standing over her, he crossed his arms over his chest.

  What a self-important bastard her brother was. "If Father were here he would—"

  "Well, he isn't here to spoil you anymore, Maili! 'Tis time to grow up."

  She ground her teeth and sat up, her hand covering her aching jaw. She worked it to make sure it wasn't broken.

  "Dugan told me you hit him on the head with a bottle and knocked him out. How did MacKenzie convince you to help him?"

  Maili pushed slowly to her feet, trying to hide her pain from her demented brother, and eased toward the other side of the room. "I was trying to protect our clan. I thought if he wasn't here, his older brother wouldn't lay siege." 'Twas the truth, at least half of it. She couldn't tell her brother the other half—that she wanted to escape this place, and him. Of course, he could probably figure that part out on his own.

  "Ha," Elrick scoffed. "I'm not concerned about his brother. He may attempt an attack but he and his men will be shot down with flaming arrows. I have men about everywhere, on the lookout for MacKenzies."

  She wanted to ask if he'd hurt Shamus, but she knew her concern would only make matters worse. She prayed his injuries weren't too severe.

  "Did the bastard seduce you?" Elrick narrowed his eyes.

  "Nay." Her answer was perhaps too quick, but she didn't view what she and Shamus had shared as his seducing her. Maybe she had seduced him. Or maybe the stones had brought them together in a spiritual and physical bond.

  "You have lain with him," Elrick growled. "I can tell by the look in your eyes."

  She dropped her gaze to stare at the floor. People had told her that her emotions were always plain to see.

  "Not a word about it to Sleat! Do you hear me? You will trick him into thinking you're a virgin."

  She frowned, wondering how she was supposed to do that. She knew little about coupling as it was. Not that she would marry Sleat, anyway. As soon as she could, she would escape this place, even if she had to hire a galley to take her to the small island where they suspected her brother Neacal was. He was not as cruel as Elrick. In fact, she was certain he would be on her side.

  "You will marry Sleat as soon as the priest arrives, whether that be one day or five," Elrick said.

  Saints, she had to devise a way out of this room.

  "Prepare for your wedding and forget the MacKenzie outlaw. You will never see him again." Elrick walked out and slammed the door behind him. A second later the lock clicked.

  ***

  Late that night, Maili dreamed, terrifying images running through her head. The MacKenzie chief was coming. She saw him, a tall, dark and fearsome warrior, disembarking from his clan's large fleet of galleys. What seemed like hundreds of soldiers armed with swords, battleaxes, dirks, targes and other weapons raced along the shore toward their castle. Bearach's walls were thick and strong. Surely no one could breach them. But then she heard the battle cries and saw the combat raging in the bailey.

  "Nay!" She lurched upright in her bed, darkness surrounding her. Cold sweat drenched her body.

  "What is it?" Anora asked from her pallet near the hearth.

  "I had a nightmare." Maili tried to calm her breathing, but the icy terror would not leave her. She shoved out of bed and crept to the window. Were the MacKenzies coming? No moon was visible. Thick clouds cast the night in blackness. Eve
n if they were approaching, she could not see them.

  Although her brother and some of his soldiers treated her poorly, most of her clansmen were good people. She didn't wish to see any of them hurt or killed because of Elrick's cruelty.

  Staring out into the darkness, she thought she saw a movement on shore. She gasped, but saw naught more.

  Nay, 'haps her eyes were playing tricks on her.

  "M'lady, you're scaring me," her maid said.

  "Aye, well. I'm scared."

  "Why?"

  A flaming arrow blazed through the darkness. In the far distance, a man cried out.

  "Oh dear heavens, it has started! God help us all."

  "What has started?" Anora raced toward her.

  "The siege. The MacKenzies have come for their brother. Pray that not too many of our clan are killed."

  More fiery arrows were shot in both directions. Distant shouts and metal clangs from the clashing of swords echoed from the opposite side of the castle.

  "Oh, m'lady," her maid sobbed. "Do you think they will kill us?"

  ***

  Shamus awoke with a start. A noise had sliced the silent darkness of the dungeon. When he moved to get up, pain lacerated his body. He groaned. The bastards had beaten him black and blue again. Not his face this time, but his body. No doubt so he wouldn't look so terrible when his brother came with the ransom money. He didn't think any of his bones were broken but he would surely have bruises over most of his body.

  The sound reached him again—the clash of swords. He held his breath, listening. Aye, men shouting in the distance, at ground level.

  Had Cyrus launched an attack? Grinding his teeth, Shamus pushed to his feet and limped toward the locked cell door. Breathing hard against the excruciating pain, he held onto the iron bars. Once the pain lessened a wee bit he tried to breathe normally and listen.

  Shouts echoed.

  Where was Maili? He prayed she was safe in her chamber, away from the skirmish. He wished he could tell her to bar her door. Not that Cyrus or any of his brothers would harm her. But who knew about the hired guards and other soldiers?

  Sword clangs at the top of the dungeon steps tensed his muscles. His brothers must have come!

  A man cried out in a rough shout, then all grew quiet. Who had been killed? He prayed it wasn't one of his brothers, dead for attempting to rescue him.

  Keys jangled.

  Footsteps pounded down the stone stairs into the dungeon. A fast approaching torch blinded him.

  "Shamus? Thanks be to God, you're alive!" his second oldest brother said.

  "Aye, Dermott!" Shamus grinned, despite the pain. "'Tis about time you got your arse here."

  His brother shoved a key into the lock and turned. "We came as soon as we got the message you were taken hostage. Before that, we thought you'd drowned in the storm. Are you injured?"

  "A few bruises and scrapes." Once the cell door was open, Shamus emerged. "What of Fraser?"

  "He's outside, fighting beside Cyrus. We found him and the other men from your wrecked galley the next morn, but we couldn't find you. Have they been feeding you?"

  "Aye, the chief has a sister who brought me food."

  "Ah… a sister?" Dermott said in a teasing tone.

  "Aye, we must take her with us when we leave this hell-pit."

  "You mean to steal yourself a bride?"

  Imagining Maili as his bride, Shamus held back a grin. "You could call it that."

  "Saints!"

  Shamus limped toward the stairs and sharp pains gored him. He hunched forward, a groan escaping him before he could prevent it.

  "What did they do to you?"

  Shamus stopped, breathing hard and praying the pain would vanish. "To make a long story short, the lady helped me escape last night, but we were caught this morn. Her brother and his men gave me a sound thrashing for it."

  "Bastards," Dermott ground out. "You'll stay by my side."

  Shamus dragged himself up the steps after his brother. At the top, next to the guard's dead body, Dermott paused, snatched the man's sword and turned to Shamus. "Are you able to wield a blade?"

  "Aye." His sword arm was still in fairly good shape.

  Dermott handed him the guard's sword, dirk and targe. "Remember to stay behind me."

  "Aye, we must retrieve Maili from her chamber. Her brother will punish her severely for helping me if she remains here."

  Once they reached the bailey, Shamus frowned at all the men lying unmoving in the torchlight. Were they MacKenzies or MacDonalds? Upon further inspection, he saw that all of them except one were MacDonalds.

  "Shamus!" His oldest brother approached, his clothing and face splattered with blood. "Glad I am to see you alive and kicking." Cyrus grabbed him around the neck.

  Pain shot through his body and he growled before he could stop himself.

  "What is it?" Cyrus released him, scrutinizing him through the dimness. "Are you hurt?"

  "They beat him," Dermott said.

  Shamus breathed sharply, willing the pain away. Damnation, the side of his chest hurt. He might have a broken rib.

  "How badly?" Cyrus asked. "Do you have any broken bones?"

  "I'm not certain. 'Haps a cracked rib." Shamus clenched his teeth, trying to downplay his injuries. Real men didn't whimper and moan.

  "Bastards," Cyrus growled. "I'll give them what they're asking for."

  Fraser approached but Shamus barely had time to greet his younger brother before more MacDonalds rushed from the castle's portal.

  "Kill them all!" Elrick yelled, his voice echoing between the castle's high walls.

  "Their chief," Shamus told his brothers.

  "He's the one I want, then," Cyrus said. "Stay between us."

  The four brothers advanced toward Elrick and his five bodyguards. Shamus struck out at the one closest to him, but he lifted his targe to block the blow. Much swordplay ensued and after a few more slices, Shamus cut the man's throat.

  When his foe dropped to the cobblestones, Shamus lifted his gaze to Elrick. The fighting continued around him, but his sights were set on the whoreson who had beaten him while his men held his arms immobile. A spark of fear widened Elrick's eyes for an instant. Shamus sent him a humorless smile and rushed him.

  His pain and injuries forgotten in the bloodlust quickening his body, Shamus slashed at the whoreson, from the right and the left, driving him backward, his sword cutting chunks from the other man's wooden targe.

  The tip of Elrick's blade cut Shamus' arm but 'twas shallow and he barely felt the burn. He slipped a sword thrust beneath the other man's targe. His weapon drove deep into Elrick's abdomen.

  Elrick shouted and dropped, then kicked about upon the ground, groaning and crying out.

  From the corner of his eye, Shamus glimpsed another man charging him. Before he could turn and raise his targe, a blade cut deep into his upper arm—his sword arm. Though he tried, he could not raise his sword. The next slice was to his abdomen. Pain pierced through him. With his targe, he blocked the next blow but could not strike out and defend himself.

  Cyrus dragged his attacker off. The two struggled, trying to dirk each other.

  Shamus glanced down, seeing his sleeve and his shirt drenched in blood. He even felt the liquid heat of his blood soaking down into his plaid. Without the use of his sword arm, he was as good as dead if someone came at him. Although he could still use the dirk he grasped in his left hand.

  He glanced about, aware he couldn't think clearly, then noticed everything fading to darkness. He tried to stay on his feet but the night closed in on him. He toppled to the cobblestone ground.

  Chapter 10

  Maili stood at her chamber door, listening in the darkness. The sword clangs were fewer and farther between now, and she thought she heard women's sobs.

  Dear God in Heaven, please don't let all the MacDonald men be dead. And Shamus… most of all, please keep him safe.

  Her stomach ached. What was happening out there?

>   She banged on the door as she had countless times already. "Unlock this door!" She needed her freedom so she could see if Shamus was all right.

  No one responded. Her guard must have gone outside to join in the fighting.

  Her maid cowered in the corner, praying and crying.

  Finally, the key wiggled in the lock and a click sounded. Who was releasing her? She had left the candles unlit so she might see out the window more easily.

  She stepped back, then froze. The door creaked open slowly and a man stood on the threshold. The candle in his hand cast odd shadows upon his bearded face. Sleat? What in blazes was he doing here?

  "M'lady, I've come to rescue you." He closed the door and barred it.

  What? Nay. What was his intention?

  He set the candlestick on the mantel and faced her. He was a big man, his graying hair in a queue and his dark beard reaching halfway down his broad chest. He was more than twice her age but still strong and in fine health. One thing struck her as odd—his clothing and face were clean. He obviously had not fought alongside her clan.

  "The battle did not go well for your clan," he said. "I'm here to protect you from the MacKenzie heathens."

  "You didn't fight," she blurted, trying to figure him out.

  He grinned. "Nay. I wasn't the one who took a MacKenzie hostage. I have no quarrel with them. Why should I risk my life for your daft brother's sake?"

  "Where is Elrick?"

  "Dead."

  "What?" She felt stunned for a moment, unsure how she felt about that. Though she loved her brother, as she did any family member, he had been cruel to her the last several months. And her jaw still ached from where he'd struck her. Most importantly, who would lead the clan? "How many died?" she asked.

  "I know not, but have no fears. I still intend to make you my wife… after we wait and see if you're carrying a MacKenzie bastard."

  Saints! What if she was carrying Shamus' bairn? A startling combination of joy and fear sliced through her, taking her breath away. More than anything, she wished to be with him and have a family together.

  Whether she was with child or not, she would never willingly marry Sleat. Immersed in a real life nightmare, she shook her head.