by Willa Blair
Alannah was visibly relieved, relaxing in her chair. She laid her hand on Abby’s arm. “How did you come to be wearing such strange clothing?”
Shit. Now what? “I…they belonged to the man who took me. I knew I wouldn’t be able to run in heavy skirts, so I stole his spare clothes. I burned them the night I came here. I didn’t want to be reminded of him.” Abby clenched her hands into fists, praying that Alannah would take her improvised story at face value and drop the subject.
“Aye, I don’t blame you for that. No sense in having a reminder of that evil man. Thank you for sharing your tale with me, Abby. I know it can’t have been easy for you to talk about it.”
You have no idea, thought Abby, unsure whether to laugh or cry at the utter ridiculousness of her situation.
Maybe some of Ian’s acting ability had worn off on her.
CHAPTER 10
Abby pried open gritty eyes and whimpered in pain as she turned her head to the side and saw Alannah sprawled out next to her on the bed, snoring softly. She finally raised herself to a sitting position, and clutched her head as it all came rushing back.
After Abby had finished her very improvised tale, they’d passed the flask of “medicinal” whisky back and forth. Strange how the vile taste improved with every sip. The last thing Abby remembered was Alannah hugging her again and telling her that she was glad to have found her. Abby had grinned stupidly and then closed her eyes and slumped over. Alannah must have done the same.
It was now long after sunrise. Conall had jumped down from the bed and was standing by the door, obviously needing to go out. Abby managed to get to her feet and drag herself to the door. As soon as she had it open, Conall shot through the opening like a bat out of hell. Abby’s stomach rumbled, though the thought of food made her want to retch. She tried to rouse Alannah. It took a great deal of effort.
“Why does my head feel like it was kicked by a horse? Oh God, did we really drink all the whisky in that flask?”
“I think so. And you look as bad as I feel.” Abby helped Alannah up, and the two women staggered out to the stream to freshen up, leaning on each other for support.
When they returned to the cottage, Conall at their heels, they choked down a simple breakfast of bread and water. Once they finished eating, Abby crawled back into bed to sleep off the rest of her hangover while Alannah went to check on the injured prisoner.
****
Ian sat with his back against the wall, singing songs to himself to keep from going insane. He figured that a day had passed since Alannah had been to see him. After she left, a guard brought down a bowl of stew with some bread and he’d eaten ravenously, falling asleep shortly thereafter. He had awakened at some point to find himself in pitch darkness, the torch having long since burned out. His head had still ached, but the pain was less severe than it had been, thanks, no doubt, to whatever had been in that disgusting brew.
Disoriented, aching, and parched, he’d groped for the bucket of water, dipping the cup several times before his thirst was quenched. He was more than a little freaked out by the total darkness of the pit. He’d closed his eyes and thought of Abby, and somehow, he’d managed to fall back asleep.
When next he’d opened his eyes, he’d heard birds chirping above, and assumed it was morning. Two burly guards had materialized shortly afterward to bring him out to use the privy. They’d left his hands tied, which made climbing the ladder a challenge, especially since he was still dizzy from the wound to his head and had to concentrate to keep from falling. He’d tried to question them, but they did not deign to speak to him. Neither did they make eye contact with him; they’d looked through him, rather than at him. Their leader had trained them well.
They’d returned him to the pit—no, it was a root cellar; he’d discerned that much in the brief moment of torchlight when the guards had come. After they’d retied his hands and vanished, taking the torch with them and leaving him in utter darkness once more, he’d attempted to untie himself. But his hands were tied at the wrists, and he couldn’t reach the knots.
It felt like hours since the guards had come. His stomach was gnawing at itself, and he had begun to sing to distract himself from his hunger, the solitude, and the pounding in his skull.
He had gone through every Bon Jovi song he knew and as he grew hungrier and more impatient, he’d moved on to Metallica. Songs about rage and destruction seemed appropriate considering his current situation.
Just then, the gate above was pulled up, the ladder lowered, and he stopped abruptly in the middle of “Creeping Death.” He jumped to his feet, and then clutched his head with his tied hands as waves of agony crashed through it. He fell back against the wall, and slid down its length to sit on the floor, his eyes squeezed tightly closed against the pain. He dimly heard the sounds of the ladder being pulled up, and then felt a cool cloth against his brow, soothing some of the pain.
He slowly opened his eyes and saw Alannah sitting before him, peering into his face with an expression of concern. The room was softly lit by a new torch.
“Alannah. Thank you for coming back.” Ian smiled weakly at the woman who was his sole contact to the outside world.
“I see you survived the night. You can never tell with head wounds. Since you did, I expect you’ll be all right.” Alannah removed the poultice and checked the wound. She smiled at him, and he was once again struck by the absurd thought that she resembled Abby. She smeared more of the poultice on the gash and tied on a fresh bandage. “The wound looks like it’s healing well. How do you feel?”
He grimaced. “Like 100 large men are doing a sword dance inside my skull. After it was kicked by a horse.”
She smiled sympathetically. “Aye, ’twill pain you for some time. Drink this.”
She tipped a flask up to his lips, and he drank, hoping it was whisky. It wasn’t. It was the same brew from the day before.
“Thank you, Alannah. What is it?”
“’Tis a tea made from some herbs and plants. It should ease some of the pain. I will leave it here with you. But only drink a mouthful every few hours, aye?”
“Okay.” She wrinkled her brow at him in confusion, and he quickly realized what he’d said. “I mean, aye, I will only have a wee bit at a time. Thank you.”
She smiled again and packed up her things. She started to rise to her feet, and Ian remembered why he was there.
“Alannah, please wait.” She obligingly sat back down. “Have you seen or heard about a stranger in the village? Her name is Abby, and she would have arrived within the last few days? She has long, light brown hair and blue-gray eyes. I was looking for her when I ran into the men from your village.”
The color drained out of Alannah’s face and she jumped to her feet, nearly tripping over her skirts in her haste to back away. “I know nothing of what you speak.” Her voice was icy. She turned away and looked up at the gate. “Please lower the ladder! I need to come up now!”
Ian stared at her in shock, puzzled by the vehemence of her reaction. The gate was raised, the ladder lowered, and the armed guards stood at the ready with their bows trained into the pit. Ian struggled to his feet, unwilling to give up so easily. He took a step toward her, swearing when he reached the limit of the chain.
“Please, Alannah! If you know anything, I need you to tell me!”
She glared at him over her shoulder. “Get back, or I’ll tell them to shoot!”
Ian didn’t actually think they would listen to her, since he was being kept alive for a reason, but the guards must have sensed something, because there was menace in their eyes as they drew back their bowstrings. He raised his bound hands in a gesture of surrender and backed away. Within moments, Alannah was gone and the gate slammed down.
“Shit!” He switched over to English and let loose with a virulent stream of curses aimed at himself and his own foolishness. “Why don’t you completely alienate your only ally, you bloody fool!”
He sank to the floor once again and leaned back ag
ainst the wall. His head shot up as a thought occurred to him, and he cradled his aching head in his hands, hoping that if he held it together, it wouldn’t split open again.
Once the shooting pain receded to a dull throb, he was able to think. One minute she was smiling and friendly, and then I asked her about Abby, and she became cold and distant. She obviously knows something. If she didn’t, she would have just said so.
He wished he could pace, but it hurt too much, and he needed to conserve his strength. “Idiot! You’ve been charming people all over the world for the last few years, and you couldn’t even manage to avoid chasing off the one person here who might have been able to help.”
He would have smacked himself in the forehead, but doing so would lay him out flat. Although maybe if I start bleeding, they’ll send her back to me.
Suddenly overcome with exhaustion, he eased himself to a prone position on the fur pallet and closed his eyes, hoping that when he opened them again, things would be different.
****
Abby heard the sound of galloping hoofs and sat up, her heart thudding in her chest. Was Alannah back from her third day of tending the prisoner, or was Ewan finally coming after her? Conall had jumped down from the bed and was standing by the door, whining anxiously. Whining, not growling, so it must be Alannah. Indeed, moments later, Alannah burst through the door, her cheeks flushed from her breakneck gallop.
“Alannah! What’s wrong?”
“We have to talk, Abby. Let us go outside; the air is too close in here.” The two women walked around the back of the cottage and down to the stream. There was a fallen log by the water that made for a perfect bench, and there they sat. Conall took off into the woods, but Abby knew he wouldn’t stray so far that he couldn’t get back to them in a hurry.
They sat in silence for awhile. Abby was seething with impatience, and finally gave up waiting.
“Alannah, please. Tell me what’s troubling you. Is Ewan finally coming for me?”
Alannah met Abby’s eyes and tried to smile encouragingly. “Nay, Abby. It’s not Ewan, though he is getting very impatient.” She took a deep breath, apparently steeling herself for what she was about to say.
“Abby, I do not mean to cause you pain, but there is something I must ask you.” At Abby’s curious nod of assent, Alannah continued. “Can you tell me about the man who took you?”
Abby was taken aback by Alannah’s question. “W-what do you mean?”
“Can you tell me what he looked like? Do you know his name?”
Abby was puzzled. Why would Alannah suddenly ask her to give specific details about the “man”? Unless…
“Alannah, does this have to do with the prisoner you went to see? Did he ask about me?”
Alannah sighed. “Aye. I’m so sorry, cousin, but the prisoner was asking about you.”
It could only be Ian! Abby’s heart started to pound. Why hadn’t she asked about him before? She’d been so caught up in the story of the pendants and her own improvised tale that it hadn’t even occurred to her to ask about the man Alannah had been tending! He’d been here for over two days and she hadn’t even known it!
“Alannah, is he very big, with black hair and green eyes?” Alannah nodded her head, then let out a startled squeal as Abby grabbed her arms. Conall, ever in tune to his mistress, came charging out of the woods to see what was amiss.
“Alannah, he’s not the man who took me! It’s my Ian, the man I love!” As she uttered the words, she knew they were true. She’d never stopped loving him, even when she’d thought the worst of him, and if he truly was here, she would waste no time in telling him so.
“He must have tracked me here!” Alannah could only stare in shock as Abby jumped up, the pain in her leg all but forgotten. “Can you take me to him?”
Alannah was silent for a moment. “Abby, it’s not as simple as that.”
Abby’s stomach clenched with fear as she recalled how Alannah had been covered in blood the other day. Her earlier joy forgotten, she sank back down onto the log. “Oh my God! He’s badly hurt, isn’t he?”
“Nay, Abby,” Alannah was quick to reassure her. “He has a head injury, which is why they needed me to tend him, but he’s well enough. But the fact remains that he is a prisoner in the pit. There is no way we two can free him.”
“You never said why he was in there. What did he do?”
“He is a Mackenzie?” Alannah looked to Abby for confirmation.
“Yes.”
“That’s why he is in the pit. He must surely be daft to have told Ewan that he was a Mackenzie. What was he thinking?”
“I don’t understand, Alannah. Why is being a Mackenzie grounds for imprisonment?”
“Remember the tale of my aunt…” Alannah smiled slightly. “I mean our aunt…marrying someone from another clan, and how our two clans blamed each other for her death and my uncle’s disappearance?” Abby nodded. “It was a Mackenzie that my Auntie Catriona married. Duncan Mackenzie. Our two families have been feuding for over thirty years. Ewan and his men were out on patrol the day before yesterday when they came upon your man, who said he was a Mackenzie. They overpowered him and brought him to the village to be questioned.”
“But we’re not from here, and you said that the feud has been kept secret so as not to anger the clan chiefs. He would have no way of knowing that he would be considered an enemy. Let me talk to Ewan.”
Alannah’s jaw dropped. “Are you daft, Abby? He’s already suspicious of you. All that will accomplish is getting you thrown into the pit with your man.”
“Even if you tell him I’m your cousin?”
“You’ve seen the way he treats me, Abby. Even if he believed me, it may not help. I need to think about this before we do anything.”
Abby refused to give up. “Alannah, I need to see Ian. Please.”
Alannah’s face softened, and she was quiet for a moment. “The pit is well guarded during the day, but if we go at night there will be fewer men standing watch.
“Can you ride?”
“I can do anything, Alannah, if it means seeing Ian.”
“Then we’ll go tonight.”
CHAPTER 11
After bathing and washing her hair with Alannah’s help, Abby spent the endless hours until dark in utter agony. She still couldn’t believe that Ian had come for her, in spite of everything. How could he possibly have known what had happened to her?
Finally, it was fully dark. Alannah stepped out of the cottage, taking Conall with her, to see if the villagers appeared to be in for the night. She returned a short while later and indicated that it was time for them to go. Alannah quickly saddled Epona and they were on their way. They were forced to leave Conall behind, rather reluctantly, because Alannah did not want him to raise the alarm by growling or barking.
Abby held tightly to Alannah’s waist as they slowly made their way to the other end of the village, not daring to go faster than a walk for fear the hoofbeats would attract attention. Though she knew it was necessary for them to be as silent as possible, Abby was inwardly screaming with frustration at how long it was taking them to get to their destination.
It seemed as though they’d been riding for hours by the time Alannah halted Epona in front of a small, dark structure with three walls and a roof. Abby slid carefully to the ground. Alannah followed suit and led Epona over to a small barn across the way.
As they entered the barn, a shrill neigh rang out from the pen alongside. Epona shied nervously, and while Alannah tried to calm her down, Abby crept around the side of the barn to investigate. She peered over the rail, squinting in the darkness.
Suddenly, a large black shape careened towards her. Abby jumped back, wincing at the pain in her leg. The horse skidded to a stop just before he would have collided with the fence. She knew that horse!
“Jack?” she called softly. There was another whicker in reply, and Abby stepped closer to the fence, thrilled to have unquestionable proof that Ian was here.
&nbs
p; Alannah was standing a few steps back with Epona. “Abby, get away from there! That horse has been like that for days now! He could kill you!”
“He knows me, Alannah. Don’t worry.” Abby continued to slowly approach the fence. The moon emerged from behind a cloud, and now she could clearly see the huge black horse standing at the rail. He was still saddled and bridled. Abby cautiously held out her hand, and the horse stretched his neck out to nuzzle her.
She carefully climbed up the rails to scratch behind the horse’s ears. Before Alannah could say anything, Abby carefully dropped down to the ground on the other side of the fence. She picked up the reins and led the suddenly docile stallion into the stall next to Bonny’s. She ran her hands down the black neck and moved to the horse’s side. She unbuckled the girth strap of the saddle, and stretched on her toes to pull it from the horse’s back, grunting as she took on its full weight. She lowered the saddle to the ground outside the stall and then removed his bridle.
“I’m sorry I don’t have time to groom you, Jack. I hope you’ll be all right for now.” She set down the bucket of water that Alannah passed to her, and then threw her arms around Jack’s neck in a quick hug before backing out of the stall and securing it behind her.
The women approached the small structure that enclosed the pit. A man stepped out of the shadows, torch in hand, and said something in Gaelic. Alannah conversed with him for a moment, and Abby knew by the gesturing that they were talking about her. Finally, Alannah turned to her.
“I told him I was here to see to the prisoner’s injury. He argued at first, but then I told him that he could go explain to Ewan why the prisoner died on his watch. Then he asked who you were, and how you were able to tame the wild beast. I told him you were my cousin, who has a rare gift with horses and healing. I am not certain if he believes me, but he is unwilling to risk Ewan’s wrath if I’m telling the truth. Come, he should be raising the gate now.”
