by Adams, Alisa
"So, for your own safety I will escort you home, he said, turning his horse around. "Have you been to see our daughter? I expect she is at the convent. How is she?"
"I have and she is well," Donalda replied, in as firm and unshakable a voice as she could manage.
"Did she ask about me?" Craig asked.
"We did not speak your name once," she replied. Donalda knew that would wound him deeply. Craig liked to be known as a tough man. He was the laughing stock of Gairloch and the entire Isle of Skye, but he had no knowledge of that. He had put himself on a pedestal of his own making and looked down at the rest of the world with scorn.
Little did he know that many of his men were about to desert him to work for more generous Lairds. Craig McCallum was a man who deserved little respect and only got it while he was paying his men a decent salary. Lately, there had been rumors that his money was about to dry up, and when the money ran out, so did the loyalty.
"What did the nuns say about your face?" Craig asked, with a hint of malice in his voice, "did they think you are as ugly as I do?"
"If they did, no-one said so." Donalda shrugged. She was beginning to be bored with the conversation, and yawned, both because of her boredom and her tiredness. It had been a long day.
Craig, seeing that he was fighting a losing battle to frighten or annoy her, changed the conversation. "I will have Elisha heat your bed tonight," he said casually, "unless you would like me to warm it for you?"
For a moment, Donalda's heart stopped, but she managed to prevent herself from giving a cry of fright. This was the last thing she had ever dreamed of happening—it was her worst nightmare. If he had told her he wanted to dance naked on the battlements she could not have been more shocked.
"You have not warmed my bed for years," she replied, her voice dripping with scorn. "Why should you want to do so now?"
"Sometimes we need someone to hold," he answered, smiling at her.
Where is this going? Donalda thought. He cannot be serious! Then she realized that it was his twisted idea of a joke. "I am not going to dignify that with an answer," she replied angrily, "so please do not tease me anymore." She began to feel a dreadful weariness creeping over her. Whatever he did, or threatened to do, had no effect on her any more. She was only worried about the safety of her children. It seemed that Iona had escaped his violence, but Cameron would have to go soon too, leaving her at Craig’s mercy.
He said nothing more until they were nearing the castle. It was very nearly dark and the horses were stumbling on unseen rocks in their path. Although Donalda was terrified by what Craig had said, she was glad to see the lights in the distance. Eventually, they reached the courtyard and Donalda dismounted from Charlie.
"Come and have a drink with me," Craig offered. When she hung back reluctantly he said: "I am not going to harm you, Donnie. Not today, anyway. I just want to show you something."
He held out his hand, but she backed away from him. He lunged at her and grabbed it anyway, then dragged her across the stone-flagged floor. She screamed at the pain in her wrist, but when she saw where she was being taken her screams became deafening. The stairway down which she would be led had thirty steps. She tried to strain backward but Craig was too strong for her. He laughed as she stumbled and fell on her knees on the second step.
"Sweetheart," he said reasonably, "you can either walk down these steps with me, I can drag you down, or I can have one of these nasty men in chainmail knock you over the head and carry you down. Which is it to be?"
She looked back at him, eyes smoldering with hatred. "I will walk if you let go of my hand." Her voice was trembling with anger.
"So be it," he let go of her so suddenly that she stumbled on another step and only just stopped herself from falling. She pressed her lips together to prevent herself from crying out, then descended to the bottom of the steps with him.
In front of them was a long corridor lit by torches on each wall, and on their right was a row of cells. Each had sturdy iron bars and huge locks, but all their doors were open except one. Donalda's heart was thumping out of her chest as she approached it. He's going to keep me here and make Iona come back, she thought miserably. When she saw who was in the cell she wondered if there was a way of killing herself.
19
Prisoners
Elisha was there, sitting on a straw mattress with Cameron's head cradled on her lap. He was very pale, and there was a livid bruise on his forehead from which was oozing a little blood. "Mistress!" Elisha cried, tears coursing down the wrinkles on her face, looked up at Donalda and tried to smile. She would have risen but for the weight of Cameron's body holding her down.
Donalda tried to whip her head around to look at her husband but before she could see him properly he pushed her into the cell. She stumbled but managed to stop herself from falling by grabbing one of the bars. Craig threw back his head and roared with laughter, but Donalda's only concern was for Cameron. She crawled over to him and kissed his pale forehead.
"What have you done to him?" she asked, her voice trembling with fear.
"Nothing much," Craig replied nonchalantly, "just gave him a little milk of the poppy to calm him down. He was becoming a little over-excited. My hand must have trembled a little when I poured it, though. I think I gave him too much and he fell down and hit his forehead. Do not worry, my dear. He will be awake presently. Do you like your new quarters? I had them made especially comfortable for you."
Donalda looked around her. Dungeons were always freezing and this one was no exception, but there were three straw mattresses on the floor and a pile of rough woolen blankets, enough to keep them each warm enough. A table with three chairs stood in one corner with a slop bucket underneath it. Donalda looked at it in disgust. This was the ultimate indignity.
Craig followed her gaze. "Ask and it shall be emptied," he said with a cruel smile. "Now you will eat, and then I shall be back to talk to all of you."
He walked back down the corridor, his footsteps slapping on the cold granite of the floor.
"What happened?" Donalda asked, her eyes never leaving her son's face.
Elisha sniffed and wiped her eyes with her sleeve. "As soon as Cameron came in, Mistress," she said tearfully, "the master sent fer him. I went past his office on the way tae the kitchen an' I heard them shoutin'. Weel, it's nane o' my business so I took nae notice, then went up tae oor rooms an started tae tidy up." She frowned, then went on.
"Next thing I knaw ane o' thae muckle great men o' his barges in an' lifts me up, then carries me a' the way doon here. I wis screamin' my nut aff but naebody took ony notice - likely too feart. I sees that Master Cameron is layin' doon here already. His eyes are shuttin' an' he cannae speak, but he smiled a wee bit. I think he wis glad tae see me. Mistress, that devil drugged him."
"He did, Elisha." Donalda caressed Cameron's face tenderly, then bent to kiss his forehead. His eyelids flickered briefly but did not open.
"Mistress, whit's goin' on?" Elisha asked, puzzled.
"He wants to get Iona back so that he can marry her to that Baron," Donalda said in a tone of deep bitterness. "He cares more about money than he does about his own daughter!"
Elisha sighed, then suddenly smiled. She reached into her apron pocket and brought out a little stoppered flask. "I always keep a wee bit o' this wi' me, Mistress," she smiled, her old eyes twinkling with mischief, "jist in case I need a wee bit o' help." She opened the flask and Donalda inhaled the sweet pungent smell of whiskey. She sighed thankfully. Whiskey could not solve all her problems, but it could warm her up—and it tasted so good!
"You are an angel, Elisha," she said with a smile, then tipped a little into her mouth. The spirit burned a sweet, fiery path down her throat and she closed her eyes in satisfaction.
Just then, Cameron gave a little groan and his eyelids began to flicker before opening fully and looking at Donalda. He smiled as she bent down to hug him, holding him as if she would never let him go.
"Mother,"
he croaked, laughing groggily, "you're choking me."
"I'm sorry! I'm sorry," she began to weep. "I am so thankful you are well. The first time I saw you I thought you were dead."
"Father slipped something into my wine, I think." Cameron frowned. "It tasted unusually spicy as if something had been added to disguise the taste of something else." He groaned, "my head hurts so much."
Elisha administered some medicinal whiskey and Cameron moved his head onto Donalda's lap. Presently, the food came. Elisha looked at it in disgust.
"Servant's fare, Milady. Ye shouldnae be eatin' that."
Donalda looked down at the bowl of chicken soup and thick bannocks, surprised to realize that she was extremely hungry. "Elisha, food is food, and it sustains us," she said, "and we do not know when they will give us any more."
Elisha nodded, seeing the wisdom in her words. Donalda and Elisha sat Cameron up, then Donalda took off her cloak and draped over her son to make a blanket.
"Mother," he objected, crossly, "I'm not a baby. Don't fuss."
"I will fuss as much as I like, son," she replied, "now eat, or perhaps you would like me to feed you because I will if you force me to."
He took the plate from her with a baleful look but finished everything very quickly. "I was hungrier than I thought," he admitted.
A jailer came with milk for them and they drank thirstily. Eventually, every crumb had been eaten and every drop of milk drained. They all started as they heard the outside gate opening again, then Craig McCallum strode in and stood outside their cell. The look on his face as at once grim and triumphant, and it made Elisha shiver with fear. Craig stood studying their faces for a moment, lingering longest on Donalda's.
"Well, my sweetheart," he said, hardly able to keep the smugness out of his voice, "I expect by now you have worked out what it is I want to ask you to do."
"It takes very little imagination to work out how your mind works, husband." Then she gave a bitter laugh. "I think I am equal to the task. You want me to bring our daughter back to be sold."
"Tut, tut, tut!" He shook his head in reproach. "I want our daughter to marry a good man."
"No," Donalda stood up and walked towards the bars of the cell. She had the satisfaction of seeing him backing away fractionally as she pushed her face against the bars. "You want to sell Iona to the richest man you know so that he can get her with child and you can squander all the money he gives you. Thinking of yourself, as usual.” She paused for breath. "I warn you, you loathsome creature, if anything happens to my daughter I will hunt you down and I will kill you if I die trying!" Then she spat in his face.
He wiped the spittle off slowly, his eyes never leaving hers. Then he smiled. His brows were drawn down and his lips curled up in a sneer. "And how will you do that as my prisoner?" He laughed. "I am the master of your fate, now. I could leave you to starve to death, hang you, or cut you into little pieces if I want to."
"Father!" Cameron's voice cut into his vicious rant like a whiplash. "Have you no respect? This wonderful woman has given you two children and yet you despise her. It seems to me that the only person you love in this world is yourself."
Craig shrugged and spread his hands. "Perhaps you are right, my son, but it matters nought if you are on the inside of that cell and I am on the outside." Then he dug into his pocket and pulled out a key. "And I have this."
Cameron's face was a mask of impotent fury. If he had been on the other side of the bars nothing would have stopped him from beating this sorry excuse for a man to a pulp. But inside his cage, he was helpless; he could do nothing to help Donalda or Iona and Craig McCallum knew it.
"Now," he announced," rubbing his hands together, "get some sleep. There is work to do tomorrow. I bid you all a good night."
Then, with an insouciant little bow, Craig left them.
Cameron was stunned. He had known all his life that there was no love lost between his mother and father, but he had never dreamed that he would treat her this way. "Mother, I am so sorry," he said hoarsely, "I never dreamed he was capable of this."
"Cam, it is not your fault," she took his face in both his hands and smiled sadly at him. "We will rise above this. We will escape from here and your father will suffer, both in this life and the next, believe me."
Cameron hugged his mother, then drew Elisha into his embrace too.
"We had better get to sleep," Donalda said, trying to be practical. "At least we do not have to do it on the floor." She stretched out on one of the mattresses and pulled two of the blankets over herself. The others did likewise. They all wondered what Craig had meant by 'work' but everyone was too tired and numb to speculate.
20
Elisha's Errand
Elisha had never been so scared in all the years she had worked for Lady Donalda. She was a simple soul; all she asked for was a roof over her head, enough to eat and someone to love, and she loved Donalda like the daughter she had never had. She did not know what any of them had done to deserve such punishment, but she accepted it as God's will and tried not to let her fear show.
Cameron wondered what was happening to Andie and Iona now. He was sure that she and Iona were safe from harm, but there was no way that they could protect themselves from the punishment that Craig McCallum was about to inflict. It was cruel, inhuman, and all done for his own gratification. Cameron felt ashamed of his own helplessness.
Donalda had the enviable ability to shut out her problems by falling asleep without any trouble at all. Long before Cameron fell into a fitful doze, and Elisha had finished tossing and turning, she was slumbering soundly. She woke at dawn and lay for a while thinking about the day to come. In a strange way, she was looking forward to it; she would finally know what Craig was planning.
She heard the metallic crash of the gates opening a split second before the others did, and was awake and sitting up as the jailer brought in their food. Donalda looked at it. Porridge, bannocks and milk—it was sustaining, if not tasty.
For a few seconds, Cameron did not realize where he was. He looked around at the strange surroundings, puzzled for a moment, then the memories of the day before all came crashing back. He groaned, and let his head flop back onto the mattress again.
Elisha could hardly bear to open her eyes for fear of what she might see, but when Donalda gently shook her shoulder she summoned up the courage to look at her mistress.
"Good morning, Elisha," Donalda said softly, smiling at her. "Did you sleep well?"
"Truthfully, Mistress, no well at a'," Elisha replied, shaking her head.
"Cameron, how did you sleep?" Donalda asked her son.
"The same as Elisha," Cameron yawned, "I kept worrying about what Father would do to Iona."
"You can worry better on a full stomach," Donalda said, trying to inject a bit of levity into the situation. "Eat. You don't want to starve and do your father's work for him. Eat, Elisha. If he sees that our bowls are still full he will know that we are worried, and I do not want to give him that satisfaction."
Both Elisha and Cameron agreed with her, and they ate their food, but with little appetite. Cameron had to force himself to finish it. When they had finished, each was allowed to go to the privy and wash. Cameron needed a shave, but nothing had been provided for him. Oh, well, he thought, I may just have to grow a beard. I wonder if Andrina will like it? But that was the least of his worries.
Craig came to see them shortly afterwards. He was carrying a sheet of parchment, a quill and a bottle of ink. "Good morning all!" he said cheerfully, "I trust you all slept well?"
Donalda, the only one of them who really had slept well, answered for all of them. "We did, thank you, Craig, in spite of the accommodation." She smiled at him.
He looked taken aback for a moment, then recovered his composure. "Excellent!" He said expansively, "please tell me if there is anything I can do to make you more comfortable."
"Pillows on the bed and cushions on the chairs, please," Cameron said at once.
C
raig put on a mock-sympathetic face. "Certainly, my son. I can see that you are under the weather."
"I wonder why?" The look Cameron gave his father was ferocious and Craig hastily averted his gaze.
"Anyway…" Craig waved at the jailer to open the cell door, then he stepped inside while the man stood on guard. Craig beckoned Donalda to the table. "Now, my darling one," he said sweetly, "you are going to write a letter to your daughter, and Elisha is going to deliver it."
Donalda met his eyes. If looks could kill, Craig would certainly have died at that moment, for her gaze was venomous, but she had no other choice but to sit at the table and do as he said.
"Now, I shall dictate and you can write," Craig ordered.
Donalda dipped the quill in the ink and held it over the paper. She felt like throwing it into his face but knew it would be a futile gesture. It would invite even worse treatment than they were already receiving, so she gritted her teeth and bent her head to the task.
Craig cleared his throat, then began to speak. "My dearest Iona," he said, "on my way back from my visit to you yesterday I met your father on the road. He says that he is most distressed that you ran away, and is concerned for your welfare. He says that his only motive in marrying you to the Baron of Portree is to ensure that you have a comfortable life and he is very surprised by your ungrateful attitude.
Cameron, Elisha and I are prisoners here, but Elisha will be released just long enough to deliver this letter. If you do not return at once, or if he does not hear from you in three days, he will kill me. Please do what is right, my darling daughter, with fondest love, Mother."
Donalda put down the quill then Craig blotted and sealed the letter. She felt like bursting into tears, but would not allow Craig the pleasure of seeing her distress, so she turned her back on him and sat down beside Elisha.
