Highlander's Kiss

by Amy Isan

  If Katrine had been summoned, surely she would have already left for Iverlochy? Elyn tended to her injuries and considered for a moment that Dominic might have been lying to upset her.

  But then why all the pain and agony? She had a feeling that if he were one to bluff, he wouldn’t have to use such brute force to get his way. A stronger lie would have been to just tell her that Gavin was already dead — what could she do to disprove him? It wouldn’t have made a difference in her mind about his offer, but if Gavin was dead, saying he wasn't seemed so weak and empty in comparison.

  She exhaled and drew a large breath as she listened for any noise outside her prison. There wouldn’t be any food service for the rest of the day, that luxury was definitely gone. She was just grateful that Kurtis and the other man hadn’t been killed. If she didn’t escape, she was sure Dominic would go that extra length. He was that ruthless.

  She pried on the bar again, feeling it pulverize and turn the stone beneath it to sand. Another pull and it ground the sand to dust. She wiggled it back and forth, before releasing it and falling onto her buttocks. She placed her foot on the bar to test her accuracy, then pounded it with all the strength she had remaining. The bar flung free with a loud ping and clattered against the wall. The stone work underneath it was shattered, and Elyn was able to dig her fingers in and pull the loose bricks up. After clearing the dust and sand, a sizable hole was left over. She retrieved the bar from the ground and wielded it — a hefty piece of iron.

  The excitement of escape made her heart race. The pain from the whipping turned into a dull ache, and she felt reinvigorated. She wouldn’t need breakfast if she could just get free — she could get it herself.

  She began to work at the floor, pulling up stones and crushing them with the leftovers. The removal of the bar made the stone beneath the second accessible, so she crushed it and pried the second bar loose. With enough time, she was sure she could make a large gap.

  Fleeing from the prison without anything would be a foolhardy mistake though. She contemplated her other options, and didn’t see any. If she didn’t leave and make it to Iverlochy to save Gavin, they would both surely die. She hammered at the third bar as the morning dragged on. She had to escape Kinfauns. And she knew exactly who was going to help her do it.

  Katrine Maxwell.

  ***

  Elyn freed a fourth bar from the floor and stepped back. She admired her work, the gap leftover in the bars was more then enough for her to crawl through. Elyn took a few deep breaths and lowered herself down to her stomach, then she pulled herself through the opening.

  On the other side, she grabbed the iron bar and stood. Sucking in air, Elyn listened for any signs that anyone might have heard the racket. After hearing nothing but the race of her heart, she stepped forward and pulled on the door.

  Locked. It figured. Elyn sighed heavily and cursed herself for thinking the door would be unlocked. Her nerves had gotten the best of her. She’d have to wait.

  Sliding her back against the wall, she sat down. She wouldn’t scream for help, because none would come. She knew the guard that would deliver her food wouldn’t be any of the men that she saw the previous night — Dominic would never allow it.

  What about the wedding that she was supposed to already have had? Would it ever come? It had to. She was his, after all. Not even a foolish scheme by Laird Maxwell could change that.

  What felt like hours passed, and Elyn was disturbed from her light slumber by noise outside the chamber. The scraping sound of footsteps made her throat tighten. She rose to her feet and tightened her grip on the bar.

  The key slipped into the lock and turned with a click. Elyn took a step forward and held the iron bar above her head. The guard peered inside the cell his eyes moving to the corner where Elyn had escaped, and that was when she struck. She brought the iron bar down on the back of his neck with a powerful whack, knocking him forward. He crumpled onto the floor, dropping the tray of food with a dull clatter. A deep sigh left his lips, but Elyn could see his breath. He was out cold, but alive.

  She pulled his body away from the door and closed it, so no one would disturb them. She shoved bread into her mouth as she stared at his limp body, considering what she should do now.

  After finishing her meal and slurping down the last of her murky water, she rummaged through his pockets and found the key to the cell. She helped herself to his short sword and his cloak. He wouldn’t need any of it. As a last effort to keep a distance between herself and the guard in case he awoke, she pulled his body into the cell and locked it shut. He didn’t look small or dexterous enough to wiggle out of the opening she had created.

  Elyn donned the cloak, savoring the tiny bit of warmth it provided. Too many days and hours spent in the cold darkness of Kinfauns keep was more draining than she thought. She stepped into the hallway before turning and locking the door again. Hopefully, it would be several hours before anyone knew she had escaped.

  She made her way up the hallway to the intersection at the great hall. Two guards patrolled through the hall, laughing and chatting as Elyn sneaked up and held her body against the wall to stay hidden. It would be suspicious to catch a woman without an escort, especially one none of the men could recognize. She spotted Dominic at the far end of the hallway, talking with a young woman in hushed tones. He was holding her hand between his, and hunched over. She seemed distracted, her gaze going every where but to his.

  Elyn swallowed her spit and decided it had to be Katrine. It couldn’t be anyone else, the air of superiority was coming off the woman in waves, not to mention her extravagant attire. So Maxwell's daughter hadn’t left after all. There was still time to make use of her. Elyn hid out of sight as the two seemed to finish up their conversation, the woman turned from Dominic and walked away. He followed her, looking as menacing as a small puppy.

  As they drew closer, Elyn was able to eavesdrop more effectively.

  “... I donae want to hear it again, Dominic, I donae need an escort — it’s a simple ride to Iverlochy.”

  Dominic seemed to have turned into a mewling cat in front of Katrine’s presence. “But, Lady Katrine, I have to insist. Bandits and reivers are all over the highlands, ye won’t be safe without aid.”

  “I can handle myself, Dominic. That’s enough. I’m done with this conversation.”

  The two brushed past Elyn’s spot without noticing her, and Elyn sighed heavily. Dominic frowned and shook his head, raising his voice to get the final word in. His mocking scowl that he had shown Elyn the night before appeared on his face in an instant.

  “I’m sure that Lady Maxwell will have something to say about this...”

  Katrine’s face drained. “Nay, nay, that won’t be necessary.”

  “So you’ll tell her yourself?”

  Katrine coughed and looked away again. She stared at a sconce flickering on the wall. “I suppose.”

  “Good, I’ll join you then.”

  Katrine frowned and shook her head. “What will make ye drop this conversation?”

  “If you’ll allow me to accompany you.”

  Katrine seemed uneasy. “Donae you have a prisoner to take care of... what was her name...?”

  “Elyn,” he was quick to say. “Elyn MacDonald.”

  “Aye, her.”

  “She’ll be fine on her own — she has some thinking to do. I imagine my argument will be that much stronger if I can deliver Gavin’s head to her.”

  “Disgusting.”

  He clapped his hands together with fiendish delight. “Absolutely.”

  “I’ll never see why my father keeps you around, Dominic. I’ll be sure to rectify that when I’m in charge.”

  Dominic’s face fell and his lips twitched with venomous anger. He cooled himself and rubbed his hands together as if he had dirtied them. “Shall I prepare a carriage?”

  Katrine shrugged and turned away from him. He shook his head with a bit of shuddering anger and walked down the hall, disappearing behind a co
rner. Katrine fumed, trying to regain her composure. She walked up to a painting and stared deeply into it. She mumbled to herself, and for a brief moment, Elyn felt sorry for her.

  Elyn adjusted the grip on her sword and thought about attacking Katrine right there, But it was too dangerous. If someone saw her or, if Dominic came back, it would be over for her. No more torture, only a swift execution. Dominic clearly had no power over anyone else in the castle except the servants, and even then he was barely treated with an ounce of respect.

  After a while, Katrine drew in a deep breath and whirled around. She looked wry and off putting, with thin lines of displeasure etched on her face. The light flickered off of her, and Elyn stifled a gasp as she tried to shake the feeling that she was gazing into a mirror. The reddish locks and all. Not just that, but how much younger Katrine looked. She had to be in her teens, at least. After a moment, Katrine started down the hall, with Elyn close behind.

  ***

  Elyn followed Katrine outside the castle and to the stables. There, Dominic had prepared a carriage with two strong horses to carry Katrine to Iverlochy as quickly as she could go. Elyn waited for just the right time to make her move.

  “Dominic, I’ve changed my mind about your coming with me, and I want you to stay here.”

  Dominic frowned and wiped his thick brow. “Lady Katrine —,”

  “Nay. Not another word. I’m done with humouring ye. Get out of my sight.”

  Dominic opened his mouth to speak and quickly shut it again. He took a step back as Katrine climbed onto the driver’s platform and took up the reins. She looked powerful, a woman not to be trifled with.

  Elyn had slowly bridged the gap between the castle gates and the carriage while Dominic and Katrine spoke. As Katrine lashed the reins and started on her journey, Elyn slipped into the dimly lit stables and hid in the nearest stall.

  The wet scent of hay and horses greeted her there, and she welcomed it. Anything was better than the musty and suffocating smell of the dungeon. She found that the stall she had slipped into was occupied by a lone stallion. His warm breath tickled her neck. She placed her finger to her lips and gave the horse a desperate look.

  Elyn peeked out of the stall’s window and stared out of the stables where Katrine had just been. Dominic sulked, before thrashing with rage, acting like a child. He stomped back into the castle’s keep, leaving the coast clear for Elyn.

  Elyn stroked the horse’s face and patted his back. He was a strong one, with powerful legs and young eyes. She knew he’d be the perfect match for her plan. She hesitated and waited for a bit, wanting to be sure no one would be suspicious of her departure.

  When she was sure she couldn’t wait a moment longer, Elyn patted the stallion’s back and opened the stall door. The horse moved from his pen into the stable corridor. With no one around to catch her, Elyn climbed atop his large frame, having to use the stall door to help herself up. Elyn savored the feeling of the horses’ withers between her fingers. Memories of her last journey across the highlands flooded her, and she felt a bit lightheaded.

  Her hand went to her head as she braced her woozy head. She guided the beast out of the stable and walked him down the path, before finally giving in to her eagerness and urging him into a spirited gallop. The thundering of his hooves against the hard dirt throbbed through her body, and she could see the speck on the horizon that was Katrine’s carriage. She raced to meet the speck, and finally meet the woman in person. She was sure to leave a lasting impression.

  ***

  Elyn caught up to Katrine over the next crest, hidden from the watchful eye of Kinfauns. As Elyn approached the carriage from behind, she heard Katrine’s dismissive tone reach across the gap.

  “Dominic, I thought I told...” but she trailed off as she saw Elyn. Elyn grinned and reached for the back of the carriage, firmly grasping the wooden edge and climbing off her horse and on board. She advanced through the small cart and emerged next to Katrine, who looked horrified. The steed slowed to a stop as the carriage left him in the dust.

  “Who— who are you?”

  “Elyn MacDonald, I think ye have heard of me.” Elyn brandished her stolen short sword, and Katrine nodded meekly.

  “I see...”

  “Ye are gonna take me to Iverlochy.”

  Katrine laughed, an annoying and patronizing laugh. “Why would I do that?”

  Elyn pushed the blade against Katrine’s neck. “Because, ye donae have a choice. It’s a shame ye didnae let Dominic come with ye, I’d have loved to done this to him as well.”

  Katrine released the reins and let them flutter to the ground. The horses were moving without guidance now, and if something spooked them, they’d be unmanageable. Elyn stared at her. “Are ye mad?”

  “I’d say the same thing to ye,” Katrine said. “But I donae have to.”

  Elyn pulled the blade from Katrine’s neck and shoved her into the back of the carriage with a hard push. Katrine rolled back and tumbled against the wooden floorboards, while Elyn leaned forward to try and fish up the reins. The ropes twirled and twisted in the dirt beneath the horses’ hooves, a dangerous place to be reaching into even in normal circumstances.

  Elyn felt her focus burn as she heard Katrine stirring around behind her. With the horses’ hooves kicking up dust and dirt into the air, Elyn blindly managed to snatch a hold of the reins and drag them back up. After slowing the horses down, she turned to see Katrine trying to dive out of the back of the carriage. She leapt back and snatched Katrine by the ankle and yanked Robert's daughter back inside.

  Katrine whimpered as Elyn stood over her. Elyn stared hard into Katrine’s eyes, and wavered the blade near her chest.

  “Stop, please! What do ye want from me?”

  “I already told ye. Take me to Iverlochy.”

  “What are ye going to do there?”

  Elyn didn’t answer. She kneeled down next to Katrine. She surveyed the collection of goods in the back of the carriage, before finding a rope. She pulled it out of its barrel and bound Katrine’s wrists and ankles, before shoving her into a corner near the back. “Good enough.”

  Elyn sheathed her sword and climbed back through the opening to the driver’s seat. She cued the horses forward again, jerking the carriage with some insistence. “I’ll ask which way we’ll need to go — if ye lie to me, I’ll find out and ye won’t like it.”

  Katrine murmured something like agreement, but Elyn ignored the ugly tone. She didn’t have time to deal with Katrine’s attitude, the longer she took to get to Iverlochy, the sooner the guards at Kinfauns would realize that she was missing.

  She thought of killing Katrine, but decided she hadn’t done anything too wicked yet. She couldn’t dispose of her just because she was related to a monster. She seemed to have had a pretty good lead on Dominic’s collar, at least. Elyn glanced over the highlands, inhaling and taking in the cool air. What had happened to the hot summer days? Maybe her parents were right about the seasons after all. She hoped they weren’t sick with worry... what could she do if they were?

  Elyn hummed to herself, surprised at how optimistic she felt despite her anxiety. The butterflies in her stomach wouldn’t stop fluttering, and her chest felt tight. But somewhere deep down, there was a twinge of hope, a hard little seed that, despite the circumstances, was starting to sprout and flourish.

  Chapter 7: Gavin

  Gavin coughed up spit and a bit of blood. With the seconds passing as slow as hours, he didn’t know how long he’d been subject to his torture. Every time he was afraid he’d submit to Maxwell’s beatings, he summoned up the courage to maintain his honour, for himself and Elyn. He could already hear her quietly chastising him if he began to show any weakness, and it gave him that much more of an edge.

  For the last two days, the false King had him locked up in a deeper keep than Gavin knew existed in Iverlochy. Gavin’s wrists and ankles were bound so he was standing on his toes, his arms and legs spread apart. The metal braces dug into his sk
in, their rough edges only dulled from cutting the flesh of prisoners. Gavin faced his tormentor, a lowlander by the name of Colin, who almost too eagerly volunteered to ”handle” the Laird.

  Gavin grimaced and shook the sweat from his face and forehead. His hair was matted and sticky, and he couldn’t feel his toes or fingers. Still, he managed to ball his hands into tight fists. Colin seemed to take some kind of enjoyment from tormenting Gavin, bringing harsh whips against Gavin’s stomach and back. The King had instructed him to not kill him, but remind him what hell was like. Everyone once in a while Colin would remind Gavin of Elyn’s predicament.

  “Your whore is probably screaming for mercy right now,” Colin mocked. He held up his hand to his ear. “In fact, I think I can hear her from here.”

  Gavin spit in Colin’s face, the mixture clear and bloody. Colin wiped his face with disgust, then spit back at Gavin. Colin’s spit was weak and pitifully small.

  “Lady Katrine will be here any day now. I hope the groom is ready for his big day. I certainly wish...”

  “Do ye ever shut up?”

  Colin gaped then clenched his jaw. He smacked Gavin across the cheek, but recoiled and grabbed his hand with pain. Gavin grinned. “Highlander’s aren’t made of the same weak stuff you lowlanders are. Bunch of English wankers for all I care.”

  “Why... if the King heard such words...”

  “What if he did?” Gavin challenged him. “Bring him down here, I’d love to see his face. He could see who he is marrying his daughter to. Probably someone stronger than he could handle down there in that swamp.”

  “How dare ye talk of Katrine like that?”

  Gavin shook his head with mock humility. “I’m so sorry, Colin, were ye interested in Katrine?” Gavin laughed, much heartier than he expected. “As if Maxwell would let a stray dog marry his daughter.”

  Colin reared back and whipped Gavin again.

  The screeching of the door being shoved open rang out in the dungeon and diverted Colin’s attention. They both watched as the King entered, and was followed by a young scribe who looked way over his head, with soft features and fearful eyes. Robert Maxwell’s face lit up when he saw how Gavin was being treated, and he swiftly closed the gap between them.