Highlander's Kiss

by Amy Isan

  “What could ye possibly want? Ye already have the throne!”

  “I donae know if that’s any way to speak to your King. I was very gracious when I told my men not to kill you on sight — we have honour in the capital here.”

  Gavin lashed forward, but Barron grabbed him by the shoulder to stop him. The King continued, “Now, as King, I have every right to sentence you to death for the treasonous letter you tried to send to the late King, may he rest in peace. But I’m willing to overlook such a horrible crime if you’ll do one thing for me.”

  Gavin brushed Barron’s hold on him and shook himself off. He drew a deep breath and concentrated on relaxing his temper. “What would that be, kiss yer boots?”

  “No. Marry my daughter, Katrine Maxwell, and we’ll pretend all of this never happened.”

  “What?” Gavin gasped. “Why would I do that?”

  “Because, if you don’t, I’ll have Elyn killed. And when I’m through with her, I’ll take your castle and land by force — do you really think I need your help? But I’d rather my daughter have a husband.” The King laughed, and Gavin got a keen sense that Maxwell was the type of man that loved watching a fish gasp out of water, refusing to put it out of its misery. “I’m surprised you brought your friends here — to their deaths.”

  “No!” Gavin swung his arm out and tried to block Robert’s view of his highlanders. “Leave them be. I’ll do what you want, but let them go free.”

  King Maxwell relaxed and mused for a moment, stroking his chin with his long fingers. “I could do that — but why would I? You aren’t really in a position for bargaining, boy. Besides, I could use some soldiers for invading England. After the marriage is complete, I’ll have more than enough authority and control over your traitorous clans to wage a war on any who oppose me.”

  Gavin hung his head and fumed. He was trapped. If he could only make sure they’d be free. “Just let my men go. You can do anything to me, I won’t try to flee.”

  “I’m sure you’ll say anything to save yourself now. How shameful of you. Did you really think this would save your pride?”

  Gavin ignored the insult. “Let them go.”

  The highlanders from Eilean Donan backed up, but were met with the sharp points of several guards’ blades. Fingal held up his hands, to try and show his innocence. Barron grunted and spit on the floor.

  “Disgusting animals. The lot of you,” Maxwell said. “Throw them all in the dungeon, I’ll consider Laird MacKenzie’s request, but I’m not feeling charitable at the moment.”

  A guard threw his elbow into Barron’s stomach, knocking the wind out of him. As Barron buckled over in pain, the rest of the guards gathered up Gavin and his men, dragging many of them by force through the halls into the depths of the dungeon.

  The only evidence of Gavin’s previous occupation in the cells was the discoloured mark on the stone floor near the bars, where Elyn had secured their freedom. The men were pushed into the cell and the gate was closed. Barron heaved, slowly regaining his composure.

  He cursed. “...callin’ us animals? Throws us into this pit to rot, forever no doubt.”

  “He’ll release you, he only cares about making me suffer.”

  Fingal curled his arms over his knees. “Then why would he release us?”

  Gavin couldn’t give the lad an answer. He turned and stared up through the small window, the last remnants of daylight fading away. He should have expected this outcome, but he didn’t think it could be so hard. Why couldn’t Robert just let them go? What would he have to give up? Wasn’t it enough that he had Elyn somewhere, probably torturing her?

  Gavin cursed under his breath and shook his head. He felt hopeless, but a small fire was still glowing deep in his heart. The very same flame that Elyn had sparked and stoked last time he was in this keep. He held onto that powerful energy, that warmth and confidence, with all his might.

  He would save his people, and kill King Maxwell. Even if it cost him his life. Not just for his people or Elyn, but for Scotland.

  Chapter 6: Elyn

  Elyn shivered in her cell. Despite there being no window, the wind and chilled air seemed to seep through the walls and into her skin. Her furs and clothing weren’t enough to keep the encroaching winter at bay.

  The guards came once a day to shove scraps and left overs in an attempt to keep her breathing. It was barely enough food to live on. The night before, she felt ill and begged the guard dropping her food off to provide her with something more.

  She gulped and tried to not sound too desperate. It was revolting enough that she felt she had to fall to such a low level. “Sir, help me — I need more food than this...”

  For a moment, the guard looked a little sympathetic. “I canae, ye know that, lass.”

  “Just a little spare bread or something, so I donae feel like I’m dyin’ in here. Please.”

  The guard frowned and looked around, in case anyone was listening. He lowered down to the bars and nodded to Elyn. “I’ll do what I can.”

  “Thank ye.” Elyn gave him her best smile. He left the room to try and scrounge up some more food for her.

  She collapsed against the hard floor and stared through the black bars holding her in. The light from the hallway barely leaked into the cell. At first, it seemed pitch black and impossible to see in, but thankfully her eyes adjusted as the hours passed. At some point in the night, she found herself examining the walls. Scratch marks and drawings had been etched into the stone work. There wasn’t enough light to see with, but she could trace her fingers along the lines and paint an image in her mind. Drawings of the sun, buildings, and people... families even.

  Elyn moved one of her furs to the floor and rested her face on it. She felt too weak to move from her spot, so she let sleep grip her. It was a loose hold, and she fluttered between bouts of wakefulness and half-sleep. She swore she heard footsteps or saw shadows passing over the light that crept into her cell, but she brushed it off as mad hallucinations.

  She ran her hands along the metal bars and marveled at the texture of the harsh iron. It wasn’t maintained, and some shoddy repairs had been done throughout the years. She touched each bar in turn, not so much out of a desire to test their strength, but out of obsessed boredom and exhaustion. As she stroked the last bar near the cell-door, she observed that it shifted at her touch. The bar moved in the stonework, wiggled free by age and disrepair. The bar itself was sturdy, but the place where it met the stone floor was weakened and sandy. She kept it to herself, thinking it wouldn’t do her much good anyway.

  Later in the night, the door creaked open and Elyn shielded her eyes from the intense light. She knew it was only dim firelight, but to her it was blinding. As her eyes adjusted, a figure moved closer and pushed his hands through the bars. Elyn clammed up and felt tears well in her eyes.

  “G-Gavin? Are ye there?” she cried.

  “Nay,” the man said, his voice familiar but not Gavin’s. Elyn sank back and reeled away from the bars, her confusion frightening her. Her eyes moved from the silhouetted man to his hands, which clasped a large loaf of bread. “I got this for ye.”

  She crawled forward and snatched it from his hands, taking large bites and savoring the long lost flavor. After swallowing a mouthful, she dropped it and grabbed the bars. “Thank ye so much, I donae know what I can do to repay ye.”

  The man didn’t answer. He smiled politely and left, securing the door behind him.

  Elyn retrieved the bread and ate the rest of it, feeling the surge of energy already coursing through her. The renewed strength only made her more aware of how tired she was, so she curled up on her bed of furs and dozed, knowing she’d be more able to think in the morning.

  ***

  Elyn was startled awake by a loud yell:

  “Get up, wench!”

  She shook and stretched out, startled. She looked around for a few moments in confusion while she regained her bearings, then she finally looked to the guard who had yelled at her.
It wasn’t the kind guard from the night before, but one of Maxwell’s soldiers, Dominic.

  “What? Isn’t it enough ye threw me in here to starve and rot?”

  “I bet ye’d like if that was all the Lady had in store for ye,” Dominic said. He flashed an ill grin. Elyn frowned, hardening her resolve.

  “What is it then? Out with it.”

  Dominic’s smile faded and he clasped his hands. “Guards, retrieve her. Take her to the chamber.”

  “Chamber?”

  “Don’t get any ideas, there won’t be a cushy bed waiting for ye. Not for yer kind. Lady Maxwell had special instructions, seeing as you caused almost all the trouble for us over the last twenty years.”

  “What are ye talkin’ about?” Elyn fought as the guards grabbed her wrists and restrained her. They brought her closer to Dominic to let him examine her.

  “My, my, ye have more energy than I’d have expected after the meager slop we gave you for the last two days...” his eyes flashed. “Ye betray your own savior, wench. Someone has been feeding you — and I think I know exactly who.”

  “Nay — I’m stronger than ye think.”

  Dominic flashed a grin and thought for a moment. He squeezed her face and turned her cheeks to examine her skin. “Wrong. I know who helped you. They’ll be punished accordingly.”

  “No! Ye canae, they donae deserve it. You— you’re the one who deserves to be punished.”

  “Do I?” Dominic laughed, which made the other guards chuckle in strained response. “Do I? That’s a good one, traitor. Take her away.”

  The guards wrestled with her strength, and carried her out of the dungeon cell. They dragged her down the hall to another door, this one made of rotten iron and thick, oily wood. Dominic wrenched the door open and led the guards into the darkness, where Elyn fought to make out the strange shapes in the center of the room. Dominic lit the sconce near the door and flooded the chamber with queasy light.

  The object in the center was a large wooden table, with strange stains on it. Elyn howled and tried to fight the guards off with even more vigor, but her frenzy was easily controlled. The guards threw her onto the table and quickly locked her ankles and wrists in place, keeping her from moving more than an inch or two in any direction.

  “Leave us,” Dominic said. He held up his hand and the guards left immediately. They closed and locked the door behind them.

  Elyn stared up at Dominic, not wanting to look weak or intimidated. “What are ye going to do to me?”

  “Whatever I wish, is what the Lady told me.” Dominic ran his hand over Elyn’s arm, making her twitch. “I think first, since you’re so eager to be resistant, I’ll punish your savior.” He turned to leave, and before he unlocked the door, looked over his shoulder. “Donae go anywhere, lass.”

  The door swung open and clanged shut. Elyn stared up at the ceiling, the dark and moldy stone staring back at her. She struggled against her chains, fighting to loosen whatever they were attached to. She grimaced as she tried to squeeze her hand through the metal bracelet, turning her thumb and skin red with raw friction. It was useless.

  She cursed and tried to turn her head towards the door. It looked so worn almost anyone could kick it down, but it wasn’t any use if she was strapped to a table across the room. She stared into the dark corners of the chamber, seeing if there was anything she was missing.

  Before long, she heard footsteps in the hall and tried to calm herself. Dominic was cackling, and there was at least one other person with him. Elyn fumed at the thought she didn’t even know her savior’s name.

  Dominic came back into the torture chamber with two young men in tow. One was the kind-hearted guard, and the other was another man who had visited her cell over the past couple of days.

  She stared at both of them passively, not wanting to give Dominic any reason to turn on one of them. Dominic pushed the men in front of Elyn and made them stand stiff as boards. He stood back and watched Elyn’s eyes.

  “Which one of these men brought you extra food?”

  Elyn squeezed her eyes shut. “I won’t help ye punish anyone.”

  “Very well,” Dominic said. Elyn sighed and when she opened her eyes she saw Dominic brandishing a large whip. He reeled back and lashed one of the men, making him howl and buckle over in pain. Then, as the second watched in horror, Dominic brought the whip cracking down on him as well. With both men cowering on the ground, Dominic explained himself to Elyn: “If you donae tell me which one it is, then I’ll just have to punish both of them.”

  Elyn stared at him and her face turned red. “Ye... you’re a monster!”

  Dominic chuckled. “Robert Maxwell will be pleased you think so. I knew there was a reason he didn’t let me join him up north in Iverlochy, forcing me to stay down in this hellhole. Now I see it.”

  Dominic brought his whip back to prepare for another round of lashings when Elyn’s savior stood up to face Dominic. He held his chin up high.

  “No! Donae!” Elyn squealed.

  The man nodded to Elyn and turned back to Dominic. “It was me. I gave her extra rations. Let Kurtis go.”

  “Oh, so you have to stand up for her then is it?” Dominic gestured for Kurtis to stand. Kurtis thanked the kind-hearted guard and headed for the exit, eyeing Dominic carefully. As Kurtis brushed past, Dominic grabbed his arm and pulled him in close. “I donae know where you think you’re going, Kurtis.”

  “But, sir!”

  “Just because Shawn vouched for ye? You’re both being punished, unless Elyn admits which one gave her extra food. I donae have to believe either of you.”

  “Neither of them did! Just let them go!”

  Dominic tightened his grip on Kurtis’ wrist and twisted, forcing the man to his knees again. “You deny you were helped?”

  Elyn bit her lip and shook her head to keep a bead of sweat from dripping into her eyes. “Nay. It was Shawn, he wasn’t lying.” She gestured with her head. “Let them go anyway! What do ye even want with me, besides to make me suffer?”

  “I want your kingdom.”

  “My... my what?”

  “Your kingdom. I want Strome Castle.” Dominic slicked his hair back with his hand and released his grip on Kurtis. He pushed Kurtis and Shawn over and walked towards Elyn. The men stood horrified, unable to move. “With King Maxwell having Gavin marry Katrine, he’ll have control of —,”

  “What!”

  A wicked smile crossed Dominic’s lips. “Oh. Of course, ye didnae know.”

  “Gavin is marrying Katrine Maxwell?”

  “Indeed. The King has already summoned for her to travel to Iverlochy so he can personally conduct the marriage. Soon, all of Scotland will be in his undisputed control. But I want more — I want Strome Castle. And you’re going to give it to me, or I’ll make sure you’ve never been in more pain in your life.”

  Elyn shook her head and felt sweat fall on the table. “No! I could never!”

  A nauseating laugh burst from Dominic’s lips. Elyn felt her very soul scream in protest. He licked his lips and came closer to her, setting his hand on her shoulder. She dug her eyes into him.

  “By the time the night is through, Elyn MacDonald, you’ll be begging to be married to me. Then I’ll have everything I could ever want — and I’ll make sure you aren’t killed like Gavin. So thoughtlessly, without purpose or reason.”

  “No! No ye canae make me! I’ll kill myself before I marry ye.”

  “We’ll see about that, runag, we’ll see about that.”

  The word slipped out of his lips and landed on Elyn in the form of spittle. She felt her chest burn with rage. How dare he call her that? It wasn’t his place or even his privilege to call her that. She sucked saliva and spat it at him, landing it on his arm. He recoiled in disgust and stared at it, before reeling back and slapping his hand across her face. She turned back to face him and grinned. “If ye want to break me, it’ll take more than petty words.”

  “Sounds like a challenge,” Domini
c began. He leaned down and retrieved his whip, lashing Elyn across her stomach. She howled in agony as he brought it down on her, each lash filling the room with the sound of stinging flesh. She groaned and bit her lip, fighting back her weakness. Elyn squeezed her eyes shut and focused on a point — a small dot of light. It was far away, but she felt herself moving closer to it, and then she began to hear Gavin’s voice calling her. Runag... come with me.

  ***

  Elyn didn’t know how many hours had passed in the dungeon, but she was exhausted and weak when she was thrown back into her cell. She had caught a brief glimpse of light as she was funneled through the hallway to the prison chamber, and she knew it was dark when she had been forced to lay on the wooden table in that cell. She groaned and fought back her tears, her fingernails raking the cold stone as if she were grabbing for something.

  Dominic had been rough on her, but only with his whip. After what felt like eternity, she had opened her eyes to find him pausing to wipe the sweat from his brow. He had then asked if she changed her mind about his offer — marry him or die.

  She had still refused. She had beckoned him closer to reveal her answer, and spit deep into his ear. He had recoiled and wiped his ear, staring at her with a mixture of disgust and chilling respect. When he finally left her in her old cell, he promised an even more severe beating if she returned to the torture chamber without changing her mind. He then said that “when I'm through with you, Gavin wouldn’t even recognize his lover.”

  She touched her stomach and kept pressure on the sores. She had a feeling he could have been more rough with the whip, She grimaced as the searing pain flowed through touch and poke, and she collapsed on the stone floor again.

  She looked at the bars and remembered the loose stonework. She crawled her way over to the offending iron bar and grasped it tightly. Wrenching on it with all her might, she felt it shudder and scrape inside the cavity it rested in. The ground was weakened. Thin spider-web cracks spiraled out from the cavity, and with every twist and turn of the bar, they creaked and split open wider. If it wasn’t so noisy, she felt as if she could have pulled the bar free immediately.