"Aye. But how? There are a dozen of them and only two of us."
"I'll think of something. Come, let's get dressed. Stay behind me."
How mortifying to have to depend on Torrin to shield her from the view of the outlaws. Gil, a young archer who was formerly a member of the MacKay clan, stood on the hill with his arrow aimed at her and Torrin. With her wet hair hanging over her breasts, at least she was partially covered. Torrin bent and retrieved her smock, then helped her put it on, along with the rest of her clothing, uncaring of his own nudity.
She eyed the outlaws while Torrin dressed. Most of them faced Jessie and Torrin again, vile grins on their unshaven faces. Their unkempt hair and dirty clothing told her what sort of men they were—desperate outlaws just like Haldane. Where had he rounded up such a ragtag group? 'Twas hard to believe her wee brother had turned out so horribly. Their father would be mightily ashamed of his youngest son.
Haldane held her three knives in his hands. She should've kept one of them strapped to her thigh, but she'd known the salt water would rust it. Truth was it would've done her no good. One knife against twelve was naught. Saints! What could they do?
Wait! She remembered she'd sewn a small knife into the hem of this arisaid. She'd never had to use it and had almost forgotten it. But it would be difficult to retrieve. She couldn't simply grab it. She would have to unravel the hem first.
"Good to see you again, Chief." Haldane smirked. "So, you've seduced my whorish sister, have you?"
Torrin launched himself at Haldane, but the two men flanking him stepped forward, their blades poised to slit Torrin's throat.
He halted and Jessie grabbed the back of his shirt. "Pay him no heed. He's but trying to provoke you."
"I don't need you, MacLeod," Haldane boasted. "We can put you out of your misery right here. I only need my sister to convince the guards to open the portcullis at Dunnakeil. The only reason you're still alive is that, being a chief, you might be worth a lot of ransom money."
The look in Torrin's narrowed eyes turned lethal and Jessie knew he would have his revenge. He'd already decided. Of a certainty, he had always been kind to her, but she'd seen how deadly he was to his enemies. If he'd had a sword in his hands, he would've likely cut them all down.
"Leave him be. We'll both go peacefully," she said to appease her brother.
"Aye, you will. Or I'll kill you both," Haldane said.
She frowned, wondering if Haldane could indeed kill his own sister. If not, he would order McMurdo to do it. And she had no doubt he'd kill Torrin if he caused any trouble. Haldane was just like his mother—soulless and coldblooded.
"Both of you, up the bank," Haldane ordered, motioning with his sword.
Torrin took her hand, leading her up the sandy pathway. Though she truly didn't need his help, she accepted it because she loved touching him. He was her only comfort in this treacherous situation. She prayed that Torrin, being a warrior and chief, would come up with a brilliant plan of escape. Or maybe she could, if she put her mind to it. But two against twelve? The odds were overwhelming.
At the top of the bank, Haldane turned to Torrin with a smirk. "By the way, Dirk killed your brother."
Torrin halted, his gaze dark and deadly. "What?" he growled.
Jessie's stomach sank. Was it true?
"Aye, Dirk MacKay, the chief of the MacKay clan, killed Nolan MacLeod. He is your brother, is he not?" Haldane said in a lighthearted tone. How could he enjoy delivering such horrible news to anyone?
Torrin frowned. "Aye."
Jessie tightened her hold on his hand. "He might be lying just to rile you."
Haldane laughed. "I'm not lying, sister."
"Did you witness it?" Torrin asked.
"Nay. But Nolan was with us and then, after a skirmish we had with the rest of the MacKays, he vanished. And good riddance. He was never any help to us."
"He made off with Dirk's woman." McMurdo shook his head, his long gray beard blowing in the wind. "I knew that was a death sentence."
"Lady Isobel?" Jessie asked, her heart leaping into her throat at this news of her best friend. "Nolan attacked Lady Isobel again? Was she hurt?"
"He snatched her from the tent, put her on a horse and rode away with her. Dirk chased after him, and that was the last we saw of Nolan," McMurdo said.
"Was Isobel hurt?" Jessie asked again.
McMurdo shrugged. "We saw her again later with Dirk. She didn't appear hurt, but then Gil shot Dirk in the calf with an arrow." He gave an evil grin.
"I'm hoping he's dead with fever," Haldane said in a hard voice.
"Nay," Jessie said, worry for her older brother clutching at her stomach. He was strong. Surely, he could overcome such an injury. Couldn't he?
"Damn," Torrin muttered. Thinking his younger brother might be dead ripped his heart out. But with the way Nolan had turned corrupt, Torrin had expected him to meet a bad end. For Jessie's brother to have killed his brother… seemed ironic and strange. And he had no doubt Nolan was dead if he'd done what McMurdo said. Dirk would've had no mercy on him for 'twas clear Dirk loved Isobel beyond all reason.
Jessie watched him warily. "You're not going to seek revenge, are you?"
"Nay. If Nolan kidnapped Lady Isobel or hurt her, he deserved what he got. Dirk wouldn't murder someone outright."
"Nay, he wouldn't."
"Did they bury him?" Torrin asked the outlaws.
Haldane shrugged. "Time to go." He strode forward, joining several of his men.
"I'm sure Dirk would've had him buried if he is indeed dead," Jessie said. "We have no proof of it yet."
Torrin nodded. Aye, without doubt. Still, it didn't stop him from remembering Nolan as a wee lad, being slapped and abused by their father. But he couldn't think about that now. He had to focus on how to get himself and Jessie free of Haldane and his men. They were all well-armed and obviously ruthless. Haldane had hired a bunch of outlaws with no loyalties and no qualms about killing anyone for two pence.
"Move along, you two," McMurdo said behind them, his sword raised.
If Jessie wasn't with him, he'd break McMurdo's neck and grab his sword, then he'd run the rest of them through or cut their throats, one by one. At least, as many of them as he could. He was outnumbered, aye, but they were all scrawnier and weaker-looking than him. But he would do naught to put Jessie in danger.
Torrin took her hand and strode forward to catch up to the others. Why the devil hadn't he realized the potential danger of being trapped in that secluded bay? The lure of seducing Jessie had blinded him to everything else. He'd been daft.
When they didn't head toward the castle, Torrin bristled. "Where are you taking us?"
"To a safe place until we get the lay of the land." Haldane gave him a sinister grin.
What did the sneaky bastard have up his sleeve? Mayhap he knew the MacKay guards were likely to shoot him and his cohorts full of arrows before he could make any demands.
Following a roundabout path, over rocky hills and through stands of prickly gorse bushes, Haldane and his men were clearly avoiding the village and the few crofts scattered about the area.
Torrin studied Jessie as he helped her over a huge rock. She appeared concerned and somewhat afraid. Her own little brother was a ruthless outlaw just as his had been. He'd never feared Nolan, but he didn't know everything he'd done either. Haldane was no doubt a murderer, and his partner, McMurdo, certainly was.
An hour later, gloaming was descending upon the land and thick clouds were moving in from the west, further darkening the evening sky. They stopped at a dilapidated byre just off the narrow trail.
"Inside, both of you." Haldane waved Jessie and Torrin toward the doorway.
"'Tis dark in there," Jessie said. "There may be vermin."
"Do you think I care? Get inside," he ordered.
"Can you at least give us a lantern? 'Twill be dark soon," Jessie said.
"Nay. Don't be such a coward."
"Bastard," she muttered.
Haldane pushed her, and she slammed into Torrin.
"Keep your hands off her!" Torrin said.
"Shut your gob, MacLeod. Or you'll end up like your brother. Now get inside." Haldane shoved him toward the doorway into the dark stone structure. His first instinct was to shove back, 'haps even grab Haldane's sword, but he knew not what the outcome would be.
Inside, he did a quick survey of the building. It contained no windows and only one doorway. The thatch was old and full of holes, but still mostly intact.
"MacDonald, tie them together, sitting back to back," Haldane ordered.
He entered with the lantern, along with two more men, and did as he was told. First, he bound each of their wrists together behind their backs with strips of wool plaid, then he made them sit on the hard-packed, damp dirt floor, wrapped a rope around their torsos and tied a knot in it.
Torrin couldn't fight them now with Jessie present. Besides, he didn't like the odds. Once Haldane left them there, maybe they'd have a chance of escaping.
"How are you feeling?" Torrin asked Jessie, once the men left.
"Not so good."
He tried to glance around at her, needing to look into her eyes, but that was impossible, tied back to back in the dark. "Are you in pain? He tied the ropes tight."
"Nay, no pain, but… How will we escape?" she whispered.
"We'll think of something."
They listened to Haldane and his men outside, most of their mumbled words too low to hear, then things grew quiet.
"They must have gone," Torrin said, keeping his voice low. "Let's see if we can stand and move closer to the door. That way, we can see how many guards he left. Push against my back."
She pushed back hard, while he did the same, and soon they were standing. Stepping sideways, they inched closer to the door, then Torrin saw him—the man with a scraggly brown beard pacing back and forth on the trail. Was he the only guard Haldane left? Or was another one patrolling behind the structure?
"Let's move to the back wall," Torrin whispered. Once they did, he said, "Now, let's see if we can find a jagged rock to cut this rope with." They rubbed against the rocks, most of which had been laid with the smooth side toward them. But then the rope snagged. "There's one." Torrin placed the rope that was wrapped around his upper arm against the rough rock and sawed against it. "Is this hurting you?"
"Nay. But I don't feel I'm helping very much."
"You are." He rubbed the rope against the rock with all his strength. He had to do this for Jessie. He had to get her free before her unpredictable brother did something insane. The rock was not as sharp as he would've liked. In the dark, he couldn’t even gage his progress. Still, he kept sawing the rope against the rock until he was near worn out from using the same muscles over and over.
"Saints," he hissed.
"Is there something I can do?" she asked.
"Nay." He had to sever the rope, but could he do it before Haldane returned?
***
Haldane and ten of his men quickly crept along the trail toward Dunnakeil.
"Remain quiet," he whispered. "If the portcullis is open, we'll slip in. If not, we'll see how many guards are patrolling the battlements, and we'll ken what we're up against."
They didn't yet know how many men MacLeod had brought with him, two or three, or a whole regiment. He also needed to know if the clan was out searching for Jessie. 'Twas suppertime and they'd be looking for her soon. Once he had this information and complete darkness fell, so his men could hide better, he'd bring Jessie to the castle and demand entrance… if they didn't want to see her killed before their eyes.
Earlier in the day, Haldane and his men had left their stolen bìrlinn at Smoo Cave. What grand luck that they'd come across Jessie and her lover frolicking in the bay. Haldane snorted, disgusted with his sister. He'd never known her to be a wanton, nor had he expected that match up. 'Twas clear MacLeod was besotted with her, considering how he'd helped her along on their journey through the brush and boulders. He might cause a problem when Haldane separated Jessie from him and brought her to the castle.
"You may have to kill MacLeod," Haldane whispered to McMurdo.
"I thought you wanted to hold him for ransom. You're near out of funds, are you not?"
"I'm thinking he'll be too much trouble for that, especially when I separate him from Jessie."
"He's a chief," McMurdo warned. "His death won't go unnoticed. Every MacLeod in Assynt will be hunting us down."
"Do you think I care? Once I'm chief of the MacKays, I'll have a large fighting force of skilled warriors."
"Won't do you any good if the MacLeods attack and kill half of them."
"You let me worry about the rest of the MacLeods. All you have to do is kill Torrin MacLeod, and then if Dirk shows up, kill him, too."
"Whatever you say," McMurdo muttered in a resigned tone.
Aye, McMurdo would obey his every command. The old man wanted that tomb inside the church too badly to oppose him.
"Why is it you wish to be buried in the church?" Haldane asked.
McMurdo gave him a dark and deadly look from the corner of his eyes, the menace clear even in the gloaming. "The why of it is not your concern, lad."
Even though Haldane ordered McMurdo around a lot, he didn't dare anger him. He knew the grizzled highwayman could turn against him in a trice. And if that happened, Haldane might be dead in two seconds. Or, if McMurdo let him live but deserted them, the MacKays would be much harder to defeat. McMurdo might be ancient, but he was still lethal. Mainly, Haldane needed him to kill Dirk, for his older brother was a formidable opponent, a highly trained and skilled warrior. He had to be taken out before Haldane could be chief.
Once they took possession of Dunnakeil, they could easily accomplish the rest. He would force each member of the clan to obey his command… or die. Their choice.
As they neared the castle, Haldane saw naught out of the ordinary. 'Twas just as it had been the last time he was here several months ago, except fewer guards were patrolling the battlements. He only saw three at the moment, their dark silhouettes clear against the gray sky.
"Hide in the bushes," he told his men in a loud whisper. They silently vanished. He slipped through the bushes until he had a view of the portcullis. 'Twas closed. "Damnation," he muttered.
One man's voice echoed within the bailey. That's when he noticed a large number of men assembled. They might be organizing a search party for Jessie and MacLeod.
How many men were gathered there? He saw a few he didn't recognize. He'd seen most of the MacLeods several months ago when he'd gone to Munrick. For a certainty, they weren't MacKays.
Haldane and his men might have to hide out and pick them off one by one as they fanned out in their search. 'Twould be easier than charging them in battle.
"Come. Let's slip back to the byre," he whispered to his men. "MacDonald and Douglas, you two stay here, well hidden, and count how many men they have. If you get the chance, secretly ambush them one at a time, slit their throats, and hide the bodies."
The two men nodded.
He had to get back to the byre and move Jessie and Torrin further away until they'd thinned out some of the guards. Nay, they'd move Jessie and kill Torrin.
***
Though she didn't want him to be captured, Jessie was glad Torrin was with her. He was working hard to get them loose, and she wished she could help, but she couldn't get to her wee knife with her hands tied.
Torrin's back was warm, solid, and comforting behind her. "Pull hard against me to tighten the rope," he said. "It's starting to fray and unravel."
She leaned away from him, the ropes pressing tightly into her flesh. He continued scraping the rope against the stone. And then it loosened.
"Aye. There we are," he said, quiet triumph in his voice as the rope binding them back to back unwound and fell away. Now they only needed to remove the tight strips of wet wool plaid that secured their wrists behind their backs.
> "I'm going to try to break the strip of plaid around your wrists. Tell me if I hurt you."
"Very well."
Although Torrin's wrists were still bound, he moved his fingers over her wrists and the bindings. He tugged at the material from both sides. "Am I hurting you?"
"Nay." It felt tight but not painful.
After a few moments, the material ripped in the silence. "Thank the saints," she whispered. "Now let me get my knife and I'll cut you free."
"What? You have a knife?" Shock was evident in his loudly whispered words.
"Aye. 'Tis hidden."
"Where?"
"Sewn into the hem of my arisaid." She bent and worked at the seam, ripping the thread from the wool material. "'Tis not easy to retrieve, but it has come in handy for the first time ever."
"I'm going to have to use that trick."
When he turned his back to her, she cut the strips of plaid binding his hands.
He sighed and rubbed his wrists. "I thank you. I'm beyond glad to have you as an ally."
She smiled in the darkness, wishing she could see his face. She'd never imagined she would feel so safe with him… protected, even. She relished the deep, rich timbre of his voice, more obvious in the darkness.
"Can I use your knife?" he asked.
"Aye." She handed it to him. "What's your plan?"
"Och. 'Tis tiny. I'm going to disarm the man guarding us. Hopefully, I won't have to kill him. Will you hold it against me if I do?"
"Nay. We have to do what we can to escape, else Haldane may kill us both."
They crept toward the door but hung back. 'Twas lighter outside than inside. Now two men lingered upon the trail.
Torrin drew back. "So, there are two of them. One must have been behind the byre earlier."
"Aye." She bent and picked up a rock. "I'll take care of one of them."
"Are you mad?" Torrin demanded in a harsh whisper.
"I can knock him on the head."
"Nay. You remain in here, in the far corner. If one of them comes after you, then you bash his skull in good."
Typical man orders. "Very well, MacLeod. Have a care, will you?"
"Aye, indeed. How about a kiss for luck?"
Her face burned in the darkness. "Nay. 'Twill distract you."
My Notorious Highlander (Highland Adventure 5) Page 12
