My Highland Rebel

by Amanda Forester

  “Ye’re welcome.”

  Like it or not, their fate was sealed, quite literally, together.

  Suddenly, her hand before her touched rock. He also stopped beside her. They released each other’s hands to feel along the pile of rocks they had found. They had reached a dead end, the cave-in they had sought, yet there was no discernible way out. They were stuck in the cavern.

  Sealed together.

  Thirty-three

  Cormac MacLean searched desperately in the dark for some escape, but it was a dead end. This was the cave-in Luke had spoken of. Now they needed to dig their way out.

  “Let us move some rock and break free. I am sure with some effort we can manage it.” He spoke with much more confidence than he felt, for he wished to provide some comfort to Jyne.

  “Aye,” she responded, and they both began to dig through the rubble.

  He picked up a large rock and threw it behind him, careful to listen to where Jyne was to avoid hitting her. He picked up another, then another, and another. They worked silently, their work too hard for speech. More than that, he did not know what to say. He became hot with the strenuous labor and tossed the bearskin cloak aside.

  He lost track of time and continued to work long after Jyne had exhausted herself and sat to the side, breathing hard. He cursed himself for putting her in such misery, albeit unwittingly. He struggled against the rocks until he came to a large boulder that had crashed down, blocking the tunnel. He felt along it to find its ends, but there was no way around it and no way to move it. There was no escape.

  His heart pounded in his chest. What had he done? What had he done to Jyne?

  “Is something wrong?” she called, for his work had halted.

  “There is a boulder here. It blocks the passage. There is…there is no way to move it.”

  “I see.” Her voice was small and low.

  They were truly trapped in the cavern. There was no hope.

  And it was all his fault.

  Ye should have the chance to be the man ye wish. Her words echoed in his head. How he wished they could be true. Even now, when they were trapped together in their final hour, he still clung to secrets. He would not tell her who he was.

  He couldn’t.

  He had tried to tell her before, but she had not wanted to hear. To reveal the truth to her now just seemed cruel. She liked Cormac. She needed that. He needed that. He could not stand to have it taken away, even if it was false. She had even been kind to MacLean, the Fire Lord. But if she was ever to discover they were one and the same, she would hate him. Both of him.

  So he continued to disguise his voice, not terribly difficult with all the dust and grit making his voice sound like gravel. He hid his identity, yet everything else he told her was the truth.

  “Is there any way out?” came the voice of Jyne. She sounded small in the echoing cavern.

  He did not have the heart to say the words. He did not have the heart to tell her many things. He sat down on the cold, sandy floor of the cavern, his legs unwilling to move further. All his plans, all his good intentions to keep her safe, to keep everyone safe, were for naught.

  Somehow, he had thought that once he came to the cave-in, he could find some way out, some small hole from which he could escape. But no. There was none. He was going to die here in this cavern with the lady he loved.

  And it was all his fault.

  Please, Lord, show us a way out. I confess I am not worthy, but please save the Lady Jyne. Cormac waited for some answer to prayer, some grand revelation, some miracle, but there was only silence.

  “MacLean?” Jyne called.

  “I am here,” he answered.

  She moved toward him, her feet shuffling closer. Soon, two hands ran into him and grasped his shoulder. He put a hand on hers and realized she was very cold.

  “Here, ye must wear this.” He crawled around until he found his cloak and brought it back to her, wrapping her up in the fur. He sat beside her on the ground, and they leaned back on the boulder that prevented their escape.

  She was close, and he breathed deeply of her. The faint scent of lavender brought back memories of their time together in the tub. Had that been only the night before? How could it have gone so terribly wrong?

  They sat in silence, both aware of their doom. His mind spun for some new plan, some way out, but this time, he could think of nothing. He wanted to say something, do something to make it better, but what could he possibly say?

  “I’m sorry.” The words were woefully insufficient, but they were all he had to offer. “For everything.”

  Jyne took a deep breath and blew it out again. “I am called as a Christian to forgive ye.”

  “I dinna deserve it.”

  “But I do. So ye will have yer forgiveness, deserved or no’.”

  It was Core’s turn to take a deep breath. “Ye are the kindest lady I have ever known.”

  They sat in awkward silence before Jyne changed the subject. “Have ye a Christian name? What did yer mother call ye?”

  “My mother died at my birth. She never called me anything, unless it was to curse my existence.” He cursed his own existence.

  “I’m sorry ye grew up wi’out yer mother. That must have been difficult.” She was being kind. Even to him.

  “Ye canna miss what ye never had.”

  “I dinna think that is true.”

  “Perhaps not. Sometimes I wonder what it would have been like had my mother lived.”

  “What do ye know o’ her?”

  Core took a breath and thought back. Jyne was keeping them talking about anything other than their dire predicament, and for that, he was grateful. They must speak of something to avoid the horrible reality of their situation.

  “My mother was o’ the Cameron clan. She and my father were married in—”

  “Yer father and mother were married?” Jyne interrupted with surprise. She must have assumed that he would be a bastard son. It was a safe assumption, for what father in his right mind would give his daughter in marriage to such an evil man?

  “This may be hard to believe, but there was a time before my father was the devil he is now. He was always a big man, my father, but he saw my mother at a tournament and fell instantly in love, or at least that is what I heard. She was a small, delicate thing, and her father initially refused the marriage. But Rex was determined, and ne’er in my life have I ever seen him foiled when he sets his mind at something. He badgered my mother’s father, demanding he be allowed the opportunity to win her hand. He was given multiple tasks, each one more impossible than the last. Each time my father completed it, expecting his reward, her father would ask for something more.”

  “What kind o’ quests was he sent on?” asked Jyne, resting her head on his shoulder. It felt natural, though he knew it was a poor sign that she had given up, even in fighting him.

  Core thought back to remember the story. It had been a long time since an old washerwoman, who had seen these things in her time, had told Core the story. “A rock from the top o’ the highest mountain. One thousand head o’ sheep, probably stolen. The removal of all the stumps in his field with naught but his bare hands.”

  “We could have used that skill for our fields,” commented Jyne.

  “Aye,” agreed Core, laughing to himself at the thought of his father clearing fields, yet he had done it for Core’s mother. “Eventually, my grandfather relented, and Rex and my mother were wed. By all accounts, they were happy together, though they must have made an odd couple. My father is such a massive man, and my mother was a petite lady. I have often been told I favor her, not my father.” It had not been a compliment. His father had never forgiven him for not growing as massive as he was.

  “What happened to yer mother?” Jyne asked softly.

  “It was close to the time o’ my birth. My father had gone a
way to attend to something, I dinna ken what. While he was gone, some other clan attacked our stronghold. The defenses fell, and the raiders stormed in. In all the chaos and confusion, my mother went into labor, early. She died in the process, and I was born too soon, too little, too sick, not expected to survive.”

  Jyne did not say anything, but a small hand closed around his, giving him comfort.

  “My father returned, and his fury was unrivaled in all of human history. He killed the warlord whom he blamed for killing his wife, and hunted down every member of the raiding party and killed them all. He then took the fortress in which they had lived and set it to the flame. That which did not burn, he ripped asunder, casting away the stones, toppling the walls. He did not rest until there were no stones still standing. Then he plowed over the crops and poured salt in the fields, ruining it for anyone who might try to use it. From that day forward, he became what he is now, a warlord wi’ no home, no humanity.”

  “So he is what he is because he lost his love?”

  “’Tis hard for me to imagine he ever once loved, but it is true. I canna account for what happened to him.”

  “He turned his pain into hatred—hatred for everything. He would be a pitiable creature if he was no’ so horrible,” said Jyne with more charity than his father deserved.

  “I am certain my father would rather be reviled than pitied.” Core knew that for a fact.

  “What happened to ye? Ye said ye were no’ expected to live.”

  “Nay, I was not. Everyone expected that I would die soon, so my father wished to have naught to do with me. One of the serving women bundled me up and brought me to a wet nurse, who agreed to feed me until such time as I died, for no one expected that such a tiny baby could live.”

  “And yet ye lived.”

  “Aye, though sometimes I think it would’ve been better if I had not.”

  “Ye must no’ say such things,” chastised Jyne.

  “Why ever not?” From his perspective, trapped in the cavern, Jyne and everyone around him would have been better off had he never been born.

  “Ye must believe that if ye’re here, ’tis God’s will. Perhaps there is a plan for ye, yet unknown.”

  “I’m trapped in a crypt wi’ no way out. I am reasonably certain the plan for me is to starve to death. I have lived a sad life, and I will die a sad death; there is no more planned for me than that. I’m only sorry that ye, who deserve so much more, are trapped here wi’ me. I deserve this, but ye do not.” Bitterness sliced at his soul. He could accept his fate, but not hers.

  She was silent for a moment. He had spoken the truth neither of them wished to hear. “All my life, I wished to do more than I was given an opportunity to do. In truth, I never thought I could do much, but fighting against ye and meeting…a new friend have been the best few days o’ my life. ”

  Core lifted his bowed head. A new friend? Best days of her life? This was interesting. “Ye met a friend?” he prompted.

  “I met a man who helped me fight against ye. It brought us together, so I suppose I have to thank ye for that.”

  “This man, tell me about him.” His voice caught, and he hoped she did not notice it.

  Jyne sighed; it sounded happy. “He is a wonderful man. He helped me and encouraged me and even plowed the back fields, and then tricked yer men to plow the rest so that the people here could plant.”

  “He sounds…helpful.”

  “Oh, but he’s more than that.” She warmed to her topic. “He is the most handsome man I ever met. He never once told me I could’na do something. He makes me laugh. He is my…friend.”

  “A friend. Just a friend?” he could not help but ask.

  “More than a friend,” she replied with warmth in her tone. “Much more.”

  “How much more?” He was pushing, he knew it, but he could not help himself.

  “Is it really so important that we talk about this?”

  “Aye, naught could be more important. Did this handsome man ever try to…press his advantage?”

  “Would stealing a kiss be considered pressing his advantage?”

  “I…I am no’ the best judge o’ that. Was it unwelcome?”

  “Nay, it was quite welcome.” The smile in her words was clear.

  “So his kisses, ye enjoyed them?”

  “And why is this of importance to ye?”

  “We cannot sit here in the darkness wi’out conversation. It will drive us mad. So, ye were discussing this man’s kisses. They were acceptable to ye?” Those kisses had rocked him to his foundation and beyond. What had they meant to her?

  “Aye, they were quite acceptable. More than acceptable. When he held me in his arms and kissed me, I felt… I dinna ken how to describe it, but I felt like I could fly.”

  “Aye.” He smiled at the memory of those kisses. He also remembered more that they had shared, but Jyne wisely held her tongue. From the heat in her tone, he guessed she had enjoyed all of their time together.

  “Sounds like this man took liberties wi’ the sister o’ the Laird Campbell.” He tried to sound stern.

  “Aye, he did.” She gave another happy sigh. “But it is no’ taking liberties when the feeling is reciprocated.”

  “And what is this feeling?” He held his breath. How did she truly feel about him?

  She paused again. “He told me he loved me.”

  “And do ye return his affection?” he asked softly.

  “Aye. I love him more than anything else.” Her voice lowered. “Though we quarreled last we spoke, and I never got the chance to tell him.”

  “I warrant he knows.” A flood of joy swept through him. He was finally loved. Loved by someone whose good opinion was worth earning. Of course, if she ever found out who he was…

  The happy cloud he had been floating on burst, and he smashed back to the ground. She loved Cormac, the side he had shown her, not the side he had not. It was good, though, to be warmed by happy memories. She needed this story to remember and give her comfort for the long days of misery ahead.

  She deserved this story. He would not be so cruel as to strip it from her with the unwanted truth.

  “I’m glad ye found someone who brings ye joy,” he murmured.

  “And ye? Have ye a wife?”

  “A wife? Nay, that is a laugh. Sons o’ warlords dinna get married.”

  “A lass o’ yer fancy, then?”

  “Aye. There is a lass, a lady, mind ye, that I adore above all. But obviously, we could never be together.”

  “Perhaps if ye tried to change yer ways?” She was being kind.

  “Nay, I would have to change more than my ways. I would have to change my name, my face, everything about me, and I could ne’er let her ken the truth. Do ye think that would be fair to her?”

  Jyne took a deep breath, as if thinking hard on the subject. “Nay, I think ye should tell her. Just maybe not right away, and not all at once.”

  “Ye give good advice. When we find a way out o’ this cave, I shall do as ye say.” They would not be getting out of the cave, and they both knew it.

  “Why did ye go back to yer father after ye left Edinburgh?”

  “I dinna intend to. Nay, I hoped to ne’er see him again,” Core confessed.

  “Then how…?”

  It was Core’s turn to sigh, though not a happy one. “I saw my father but rarely when I was young. When I did, he would tell me I was a pathetic weakling who would’na amount to anything, and as soon as he sired a true son, I would ne’er see him again.”

  “That is a horrible thing to say to one’s own child.”

  “Were ye no’ called the ‘runt o’ the litter’?” he queried. No one should ever have made his Jyne feel small.

  “That was…that was different,” she defended. Though he could not see how.

  “As ye wish.
After my father abandoned me and I ended up at the monastery, I assumed he would sire a son and leave me be. Unfortunately, Red Rex was plagued wi’ naught but daughters.”

  “So yer father remarried?”

  “Nay, he swore he would never marry again, but that dinna mean the man was celibate.”

  “So he decided ye must be his legacy.”

  “Aye, except I tried running from him. Several times. Every time, he’d send someone after me, and every time, innocent folk who did naught but give me aid got hurt. I stopped trying to escape my destiny. I thought if I could win his approval, he would let me be.”

  “And did ye?”

  “That is why I continued to study alchemy, so I could make the powerful weapon o’ the English. I thought he would finally approve o’ me and let me be. But my work has gone too well, and Brother Luke is right. Red Rex should no’ gain such a weapon.”

  “How are ye acquainted wi’ Brother Luke?”

  “I stole a scroll from the monastery. Brother Luke caught me and tracked me all the way back to my father. Unfortunately, my father caught him and was going to kill him, so I told Rex that Luke was the key to a treasure at Kinoch. I thought Kinoch was abandoned. I had no idea ye were here.”

  “Aye, I thought it abandoned too,” she concurred.

  “My father let Luke live, but said if I could’na produce a treasure, all the monks would be killed.”

  Jyne gasped. “Nay!”

  “That is why I tried to find a treasure. And that is why, when I failed, I planned to pretend I was dead, so hopefully my father would feel no need to make good on his threat.”

  “Och, I have misjudged ye.” There was self-recrimination in her tone.

  A warm hand rested on his cheek. He closed his eyes and enjoyed the sensation. Jyne had shown him more compassion in a few days than he had ever before experienced.

  “I always blamed myself. If I had been more the son he wanted, then he would’na have had to go to such lengths to change me and hurt anyone standing in the way.”

  “That is rubbish. Ye’re no’ responsible for the poor choices of yer father. And there’s naught wrong with the way ye are. Just because ye’re different from what he expected doesna mean that ye should hold yerself with any less value. In truth, it is the ways in which ye’re different from yer father that prove yer worth.”