by Bess McBride
“I told you I was coming! I thought you guys moved out of the way!” I said, gagging at the moist mound of waste. I jumped up and ran away from the area, shuddering with distaste, but the stench followed me...was me.
I paused and turned to face Andrew and Igrid behind me. The moon provided little light, and I couldn’t see our surroundings.
“Which way out of here, Andrew? Igrid?” I whispered.
“Where do we go?” Andrew asked.
“Ye dinna ken where to go?” Igrid asked shrilly. “We escaped the castle only to stand about wi’out direction?”
I barely recognized the quiet mousy maid in the outspoken little woman.
“Well, we escaped from the castle, not exactly to somewhere!” I retorted. “We should try to head back toward the birlinns. It’s possible that the men are between the boats and here...or maybe they went after the hostages...who would still be between the boats and the castle.”
“My clothes are drenched in keech,” Igrid moaned. “I canna stand myself.”
“No kidding!” I said, taking in tiny gasps of air to keep from breathing deeply. “Okay, Andrew, I don’t know the layout. Which way toward the boats, do you think?”
He hesitated, and although I knew we’d been right to escape, I wished I’d had better intelligence before we fled...at least a better plan.
“This way,” Andrew finally said. “There was once a grove of trees behind the castle through which we can travel toward the beach. Do the trees still stand, Igrid?”
“Aye, I have seen a grove of trees from the windows. I have no left the castle grounds in years though.”
“Lead on, Andrew,” I said.
He turned left and moved out. Igrid followed in the darkness, and I soon lost them both.
“Guys! I can’t see you! Slow down!”
Suddenly, Andrew appeared at my side.
“Look—it’s really dark out here,” I said. “The moon is behind a cloud, and I can’t see you. I think we should hold on to each other.”
“As ye wish, mistress,” he said. “Where is the lass?”
“I thought she was behind you!”
“I thought the pair of ye followed me,” Andrew said.
“Igrid!” I whispered in the dark, pivoting slowly, as if I could see anything. “Igrid! Where are you?”
I heard no response.
“Igrid!” I said a bit louder, fully aware that the base of the castle was only a few hundred yards away and the men inside already on alert for a possible attack.
Still, I heard no response.
“Andrew! Do you think she took off?”
“Took off, mistress?”
“Ran? Where would she go?”
“I dinna ken, mistress. It was no my choice to bring her.”
“Which way to the grove?”
“Just here. We are on the edge of it. Do ye no hear the trees in the wind?”
My heart had been pounding so loudly that I hadn’t heard the leaves rustling, but I heard them then.
“I can’t think straight. I stink so bad.”
A hand came over my mouth and around my waist, and I struggled against Andrew’s grip. What was the boy thinking?
“Ye do stink, lass, something terrible!”
But it wasn’t Andrew holding me, covering my shriek. It was Iskair’s voice.
I moaned and turned toward him, his grip loosening as I rotated. I launched myself at his neck, wrapping my arms around him, my feet dangling.
“Iskair, Iskair!” I repeated breathlessly.
He held me to him for a moment before setting me back on my feet.
“Did no the three of ye think to lower yer voices?”
“What are you doing here? What three of us? Where are the others?”
He pulled me forward by the arm, and I heard the same rustling again. The dark shapes of men moving materialized, and I realized that John, Torq and the other men were all concealed in the grove.
“Release me! I am no the enemy!” I heard a female demand angrily.
“Igrid?”
“Mistress! It seems we are found! Though I canna say I am entirely pleased! This brute willna let me go!”
I didn’t know which brute she referred to but assumed it was one of the Morrison men.
I then heard Andrew’s voice along with several hushed baritones speaking in Gaelic. I turned to Iskair, still holding me by the arm.
“What’s going on? How did you know they’d captured us?”
“We didna ken that ye had been taken, lass, until we heard the commotion at the base of the castle. Dinna tell me that the three of ye escaped through the latrine? Ye certainly have the stench of it.”
“We did!” I said, my hackles rising. “And we did a good job of it! We’re out, aren’t we?”
“Aye, that ye are. I hear Andrew telling John and Torq how ye were taken, though he disna remember much of it. He says he was hit on the head.”
“Yes, that’s right.”
“I am so verra sorry, lass. We thought ye’d be safer on the birlinns than wi us, but we were wrong. I dinna ken there is anywhere safe for ye at the moment.”
The remorse in Iskair’s voice touched me. “It’s not your fault. You’re right. Nowhere is safe right now.”
“Come—tell us what is occurring in the castle. We were considering how best to infiltrate the castle, when ye dropped from the castle walls.”
He led me toward the heart of the group, where John and Torq listened to Andrew speak. John turned in my direction, his ears sharp, his sense of smell probably sharper. I was humiliated at my foul odor.
“I canna see yer person verra well, Debra, but Andrew tells us that ye have come to no harm, at least to his eyes. Are ye well? Untouched? Unharmed?”
“I’m okay,” I said.
“Can ye tell us how many men are within the castle? Is Angus there? Dugald? Andrew told us they ken we are here and prepare for an attack?”
“Yes, they know you’re here because they found the boats. I didn’t tell them anything though. Angus appears to still be out with the hostages. He hasn’t returned to the castle yet. Dugald seems to be in charge. He’s directing everyone to wherever they go during an attack. You would probably know that better than me. I’ve seen them running around the courtyard, lining up on the parapet above the stables, manning the gate. The tower house seems largely empty, but I don’t know that for sure. It just seems quiet.”
“Good, good. Thank ye,” John said.
“What about the prisoners? Ann, Cynthia, the kids, Dylan, the people? Do you know where they are? Have you heard anything?”
“I sent Iain out on Iskair’s horse. We await his return here in the woods.”
“Oh!”
“Though they travel on foot and are doubtless slowed by the bairns, they must be close. Iain should return soon.”
Iskair dropped his hand from my elbow, and I missed the strength and reassuring security of his grip. I wondered if it was because I stunk. Had I not, I think I would have pressed against his side.
I was utterly infatuated with the man, no matter how much of a liar he thought I was. I wanted to look at him all the time, to hear his thick Scottish burr in my ear, to feel the muscles of his arms ripple under my hand. I wanted to hear his heart beat as I pressed my face against his broad chest. More than anything, I wanted him to say “I love you.”
But all I could hear at the moment was my own heart pounding so loudly that I thought everyone must hear it...and our precarious situation wasn’t the source. In the hours since I had been taken, I had come to realize that no man would ever measure up to Iskair in my eyes. Not only was he remarkably handsome with a beautiful smile—when he chose—but he had a heart of gold, a goodness in him that despite all the violence prevalent in his world, of which he participated in and was capable of, he was a good, trustworthy man. I loved him, and although I didn’t know what my future would hold if and when I returned to the twenty-first century, it would definitely no
t have Iskair.
I resisted the urge to lean against him, instead choosing to take a few steps away so as not to offend.
“Are we still at odds then?” he murmured.
“What? No, I just—”
“Then why do you step away, Debra?” His deep voice was throaty, piercing my heart.
“Because—” I stopped short.
“Because?”
“Because I stink!” I exclaimed. “And I don’t want you to smell me.”
A warm hand wrapped around my arm and pulled me gently near.
“I ken yer smell when ye have no fallen through a latrine, lass. Ye have the scent of heather blooming in the summer.”
I drew in sharp breath. On the verge of throwing myself into Iskair’s arms, despite my awful smell, I stopped short as footsteps pounded through the forest.
“Young Iain has returned,” Iskair said. He moved forward as the men crowded around Iain.
That I could actually see the scout’s silhouette suggested that our small portion of the earth rotated toward the sun. Dawn was approaching.
The men spoke in Gaelic, and I moved toward Igrid, now unhanded by her captor, whoever he had been.
“What are they saying, Igrid?”
“I dinna understand his meaning. He says there are no prisoners? I thought ye said all the Morrison women and bairns had been taken prisoner.”
“What does he mean...no prisoners? He doesn’t mean—” I choked off the words. “No! No!”
Chapter Sixteen
“Auch, nooo, mistress. He disna say he found them dead, only that he spied Angus and his men, and they have no prisoners wi them.”
“He wouldn’t kill his grandchildren. He wouldn’t. Would he?”
“Nay, the Macleod is a beast, but he has a soft spot for his son’s bairns. He fancied her ladyship as well.”
“Ann, right? I heard about that.”
“Aye, he was quite smitten wi her though he has a wife at his own castle.”
“Oh dear,” I said. “What else does Iain say? What are they saying?” I nodded toward the other men, no longer simply black shadows moving in darkness. A faint lessening of the blackness showed distinct figures. I kept my eye on my favorite figure—Iskair.
“They discuss where the prisoners might be—were they deposited somewhere under guard or taken further to Breac Castle, Angus’s true home? They dinna ken how many men Angus had and if he could have taken everyone further to his own territory.”
“What are they going to do?”
“I dinna ken, mistress. They dinna ken at the moment.”
I wondered privately if they had stashed the prisoners somewhere, probably knowing full well that John would have no choice but to attack the castle to get his wife and children back once he discovered that they had been taken. I still wondered what had happened to Rob, Kenny, Euan and the other men whose names I didn’t know. There seemed to be no reason for the Macleods to take able-bodied men as prisoners, especially since they weren’t going to be able to force them into manual labor or demand ransom for them. But Iskair had found no bodies on searching the castle, so where were they? Why would Macleod take them?
“Iain says that the Macleods move fast to return to the castle. Angus and one other man ride ahead on horseback. The rest are on foot.”
“It must have taken them longer to cross overland than it did for the boats to sail along the coast.”
Igrid didn’t respond to my musings.
Iskair looked over his shoulder toward me then broke away from the group to come to my side. My overworked heart leapt at his approach.
“The women and bairns are no wi Angus. We dinna ken where they are.”
“I know. Igrid was interpreting for me.”
“We must take the castle before Angus and his men return. Then we can search for Ann, Cynthia, the bairns, and yer man, Dylan.”
“Please stop calling him my man, Iskair,” I said. “What about the other men—Rob, Kenny, Euan? Where are they?”
“I wish I kent. We sorely need them.”
“I wish I could help. I wish I were one of those women who knew how to fight.”
“Which women might those be?”
“Oh, I don’t know, a pirate or something. I’m just mumbling. Stress.”
“A pirate?”
Despite the starkness of the moment, I looked up to see his lips lift in a grin.
“So what now?” I asked, terrified he would say they were about to attack the castle.
“We attack the castle.”
I blinked and swayed on unsteady knees. Iskair reached for me, pulling me to his side. I resisted, unable to forget my stench, but he didn’t give in.
I protested weakly, unconvincingly.
“Ye are fair weary, Debra. Have ye slept at all?”
“No,” I said.
“Take strength from me then.”
I wondered if Iskair knew how much strength I actually did take from him, from my love for him. I said nothing though.
“I’m worried about you, about all of you. I don’t see how you can take the castle with so few men.”
“I dinna ken either, lass,” he said in a hushed voice, “but we must try.”
“And your cousin won’t help.”
“Nay. Murdo willna go against Angus. He may no choose to rally to him, but he will no go against him.”
Igrid had wandered nearer to the ongoing discussions, and I turned to face Iskair. Though the blue-gray predawn light didn’t allow me to see the warm caramel color in his eyes, I could see his grim expression. I took hold of his sash.
“I know the Morrisons have to do this. I know you’re joining them for whatever reason. Please, please take care of yourself. Stay safe. Please come back.”
Iskair covered my hands with his own. He bent his head toward me.
“Iskair!” John called out. He followed up with something in Gaelic.
Iskair lifted his head and nodded.
“We go now. Stay here wi the maid. Andrew comes wi us. If I dinna return for ye, strike out for the south. Go to my cousin Murdo at Broder Castle. Tell him I sent ye. He will give ye sanctuary.”
I shook my head furiously.
“No, I won’t go. I’m staying right here.”
“Lass, do as I say. If he gives sanctuary, as I believe he will, he may offer his protection to the Morrison women and bairns should ye plead for such.”
I heard Iskair’s words and swallowed hard. “Please come back.”
“To ye?” he asked softly. The men were moving, and he glanced over his shoulder.
“To me, to me.”
“Then I promise to come back.”
Iskair turned away and strode after the men. Igrid came to my side, and we lowered ourselves to huddle against the base of a tree. The tower stood out like a large black rectangle against the lightening sky.
I told her the plan if Iskair didn’t return, and she agreed.
“I have seen Murdo Macaulay on his visits to Ardmore Castle. Mrs. Mackay said he is no evil like Angus. He is no a saint, mind ye, she said, but no evil. He has a wife and children and cares for them.”
I nodded.
“Iskair seems verra fond of ye,” she offered.
“Really? I can’t imagine how. I stink. You stink.”
“Aye, that we do. I canna believe we escaped through the latrine.”
“Andrew’s idea,” I reminded her.
“Aye.”
We fell silent, listening for the sounds of warfare. No shouts, gunfire or steel on steel rent the air though. All was quiet...deafeningly so.
“I wish I knew what was going on.”
“Aye, mistress.”
We huddled there as the sky lightened. Still, we heard no sounds emanating from the castle. The tension was unbearable. I didn’t want to hear the sounds of combat, but the silence was even more unnerving.
“What are they waiting for?” I whispered, almost to myself. “Did they change their minds?”
>
I actually hoped they did. There had to be somewhere else for the clan to go. They could return to Dun Eistean, roust whatever men Macleod had left there, and wait for a better time to reclaim the castle and their lands. I didn’t know when that would be—maybe not even in the sixteenth century, but anything would be better than seeing them destroyed by trying to take on a clan of superior size firmly ensconced within a castle fortress.
It seemed as if an hour passed, and still we heard nothing. I jumped up.
“I can’t just sit here any longer!” I said. “Iskair said to go to Macaulay if he didn’t come back, but when would we do that?”
“I dinna ken,” Igrid said, rising.
I didn’t want to leave the sanctuary of the grove, and yet I did.
“Igrid, the chute wasn’t that long of a drop. What if we tried to climb back in? To help from the inside?”
“Climb back up the latrine?” she gasped. “And how might we help, mistress? I am no warrior.”
“Well, what if we find some pistols? Surely we can both shoot!”
“I dinna ken how to load a pistol!”
“Oh boy, neither do I. I’m the world’s worst archaeologist. That’s all there is to it.”
I slipped out of the cover of the groves and looked up at the castle tower. The latrine chute faced us, and I contemplated it, then turned to look at tiny Igrid. Combined, we probably had ten feet four inches. One of us could possibly serve as a step stool for the other to climb back into the castle.
Igrid saw me eyeing her and shook her head. She turned her back, as if to head farther into the grove.
“Auch, nay, I just escaped!” she cried over her shoulder.
Two rough hands grabbed me from behind, and I struggled against a familiar smell. Not my own stench, but that of Dugald Macleod. I screamed as loud as I could, and Igrid whirled around. She ran back in my direction and started clawing at Dugald’s hands.
“Let her go!” Igrid cried out, her words drowned out in my screams.
Dugald released a hand to smack me on the back of the head, and the world spun before me. Stunned, I fell limp. A thunderous roar sounded in my ears, and I felt myself thrown to the side. Dazed, I saw Igrid drop to her knees beside me, as if to cover me. I shifted my aching head and saw Iskair and Dugald facing off with broadswords.
