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The Ghost

Page 20

by Greyson, Maeve


  “No one has seen her, but I doubt she went far. I’m sure she didn’t return to Glenfinnan. According to one of the other maids, the public house from which she escaped was more brothel than anything else.” Catriona’s mouth puckered as though she tasted something sour. “And it appears the services they offered were unseemlier than most.”

  “That would explain a great deal about the lass.” Brenna felt for the girl, but that didn’t excuse the former maid’s actions. The young woman needed to be locked away before she did anyone, including herself, any harm.

  The hallway door blew open. Alexander, with Graham on his heels, charged into the room.

  A parchment in one hand, Alexander strode to the window and shoved both panes open wide. He leaned out over the sill, looking first to the left, then to the right. “Where is Magnus?” he asked while still hanging out the window. “The two of ye must leave Tor Ruadh. Immediately.”

  “What…what say ye?” Brenna flattened a hand to her chest in a futile attempt at calming her pounding heart.

  “Why would ye say such a thing?” Catriona rose and hurried to her husband’s side. “What has happened?”

  Alexander, jaw clenched and hands fisted, stared at them as though struggling to choose his words. After a long moment, he held the crumpled leaflet high. “Barricourt has ordered Magnus’s arrest along with any who aid him. Treason, it says. They have also charged him with the attempted murder of a British officer.”

  “When Magnus hears of this, it will be murder if he has his way about it.” Brenna had feared there would be repercussions after Barricourt’s fateful visit. She knew little about the vile man, but instinct told her his pride wouldn’t ignore all that had happened that day. A Scot with the audacity to raise a weapon against him? The chieftain telling him to leave? Nay, she had known this wouldn’t end well, and now here it was, come home to roost like a vicious winged demon. She wanted to drop to her knees and sob but refused to give into it. Instead, she clenched her trembling hands to her middle and steadied herself. “Magnus and Keigan are probably still in the caves. The lad’s been champing at the bit to see them, so Magnus took him exploring.”

  Alexander blew out a heavy sigh. “The caves are probably the safest place for all of ye right now.”

  Catriona took the order from Alexander and read it. Her brows knotted tighter as her eyes skimmed the page. “Did they come for him today and leave this? It has been so quiet. I wouldha thought Barricourt and his men for the sort who make their presence known.”

  “Tom sent the warning by Alice. Said the soldiers will be here in a few hours.” Alexander stormed back to the window and checked outside again. “Ye’re right about the man. Barricourt has planned quite the spectacle for the arrest, and it’s taking him a bit of time to prepare.”

  “Who are Tom and Alice?” Brenna didn’t recall the names, but whoever they were, she owed them a debt of gratitude.

  “Thomas Parlorn is a soldier at Fort William,” Catriona explained. “A good man if ever there was one. He’s sweet on Alice. She’s the miller’s daughter and has worked here at the keep ever since her mother died.” She handed the parchment to Brenna with a sympathetic smile. “Several of the men at Fort William are good, kind souls.” A despairing sigh escaped her. “Still Sassenachs, but good and kind. Lord Crestshire, God bless him, commanded with respect and honor. That man never tolerated cruelty.”

  “This is no time for wishful reminiscing,” Graham reminded from his post beside the door. “I shall head to the caves and find Magnus and the lad.” With a grim smile, he looked at Brenna. “Pack as quick as ye can and only what ye need to survive. Meet us at the entrance to the caves in the back of the stable.”

  “This is nay my first time running,” Brenna replied. “I’ll bring only what’s needed.”

  “Does Barricourt know about Keigan?” Catriona asked as they all hurried out into the hall.

  “I dinna think so.” At least, Brenna prayed he didn’t. She couldn’t bear the thought of poor Keigan in peril.

  “Then leave him here until we have a solid plan of a refuge for ye, better than the caves,” Catriona said. “He’ll be safer, and the two of ye can travel easier on yer own.”

  Brenna came to a halt, unable to believe what she had just heard. “Leave Keigan behind?”

  “Aye, good sister. Ye know he’ll be safer here,” Catriona said with a gentle squeeze of her arm.

  Alexander and Graham turned back, both frowning and fidgeting in place.

  “We must make haste. The soldiers will be upon us soon.” Graham looked at Alexander. “I best find Magnus and the lad while everything is made ready.”

  Alexander released him with a nod.

  As much as Brenna hated it, Keigan staying safe at the keep would be the responsible thing to do. But how could she leave her dear sweet bairn behind? And for how long? Who knew where they would have to go or how long they would have to hide?

  “Ye will keep him safe,” she whispered, taking hold of Catriona’s hand.

  “As if he was my own.”

  A storm of emotions closed off her throat, threatening to take her to her knees. She couldn’t manage words, so she gave a curt nod.

  “We must go,” Alexander gently prodded from up ahead. “Now.”

  It didn’t take her long to gather the necessities she and Magnus would need. Running to save life and limb riddled her past. She had so hoped those days were behind her, but with Alexander’s announcement, those hopes shattered.

  By the time they reached the stable and made their way to the cave entrance in the back, Magnus and Graham stood talking in low tones while Keigan looked on. The poor child was wide-eyed and silent.

  “Auntie!” he cried out. He charged into her, clutching her as though he would never let her go.

  She held him just as tightly, memorizing every nuance of what could be the last time she ever saw him. His irresistible little boy scent, a pungent mix of damp earth and, at the moment, wet dog. The desperation in his hug squeezed her heart. His quick hitching breaths told her he was doing his best not to cry. God help her; how could she leave him behind?

  “I love ye more than life itself,” she choked out through the sorrow threatening to strangle her. Her teardrops broke free, tumbling down into his tangled hair.

  “I dinna want ye to go,” he whimpered against her, breaking her heart even more. “Please dinna leave me behind. Please take me with ye.”

  After a deep, shuddering breath, she knelt in front of him and took hold of his shoulders. “We will not be separated long, my precious warrior.” She forced a smile she doubted he would believe. “It will be all right. Either we shall come back for ye, or we’ll send word and have Evander bring ye to us. We all must be brave, aye?”

  “Why can I not go? I have been in danger afore, and ye didna leave me behind.”

  “I didna leave ye behind before because I had no safe place to leave ye.” How could she explain in so little time all she needed him to understand? She could tell by the way Graham, Alexander, and Catriona fidgeted and kept straining to see the front of the stable that time had run out.

  Squeezing her dear mite’s hands, she gave him the bravest smile she could muster. “No matter what happens, I love ye, yer da loves ye, and yer mama is watching over ye. No matter what, aye?” She gave him another fierce hug, then stood and forced herself to put an arm’s length of space between them. “Be my courageous lad, aye? I’m ever so proud of ye, Keigan.”

  He didn’t answer. Just stared up at her, tears streaming down his face. Then he turned and glared at Magnus for the longest time before raising his small fists and shaking them. “I hate ye both for leaving me! Ye’re just like Mama!” Then he shot off down a side aisle, disappearing into the maze of horse stalls.

  “Keigan!” she cried out, needing to hold him until he understood.

  “Let him go, dear one,” Magnus said. With another gentle tug on her arm, he pulled her closer to the cave entrance. “When he�
��s older, he will understand.”

  “He didna mean his words, sister. Ye know that,” Catriona said. “Dinna fash, I’ll send Evander to comfort him.” She lifted a trembling hand in farewell. “God bless ye and keep ye both until we see ye again.”

  “Stay to the caves. ’Tis safest ’til we’ve worked out a better plan,” Alexander advised. “Ye ken well enough where the supplies are cached. Check the dragon’s mouth daily. We’ll leave messages there as more information comes to us.”

  Magnus accepted Alexander’s instructions with a solemn look and a hard clasping of his forearm. He bid Graham farewell with the same silent, brotherly grip.

  Brenna had no idea what Alexander meant by the dragon’s mouth, but Magnus seemed to understand, and that was all that really mattered. With her world tumbling down around her ears, a cold numbness made it a struggle to function.

  “Thank ye. For everything,” she managed to say as Catriona hugged her one more time. “Please take care of my bairn ’til he’s back in my arms. Tell him I love him.”

  “Ye know I will,” Catriona said, her eyes shimmering with unshed tears. Then she turned and ran to catch up with Alexander and Graham.

  “Brenna, we must go.” Magnus steered her toward the dark crack in the stable wall, half-hidden by a boulder as tall as a good-sized man. “Take the torch from yon bracket. I’ll carry the pitch bucket with the extra torches we’ll need. It’s a fair stretch of the legs to the supply cache.”

  She cast a last glance back through the horse stalls, wishing for one more glimpse of Keigan. Despair filled her as she saw nothing in the shadows. “What’s done is done, and canna be undone,” she reminded herself as she wiggled the torch free of the bracket and settled a bundle over her shoulder.

  Magnus picked up the other bulging sack and the bucket. “Light our path, mo ghràdh. The way is narrow with no choices, so ye canna err in the direction ye choose.”

  Cool, clamminess of the cave engulfed her, brushing across her flesh like a troubled spirit. Hairs on her arms stood on end, making her wish she hadn’t pushed her sleeves up to her elbows. It had been a warm summer’s day out in the courtyard, but within the cave, it felt like dreary, wet autumn had already taken hold. The sound of dripping water echoed from somewhere up ahead. Brenna lifted the sputtering torch higher, squinting against its blinding brightness while praying the thing never went out.

  “We’ll stay in a fine room just past the southern storage cache,” Magnus reassured. “It’s none too far from the dragon’s mouth and surrounded by a good-sized fissure with only a few places narrow enough to jump across. In fact, Catriona hid there for nearly a fortnight once.”

  While she appreciated his attempt at reassurance, something about hiding for days in the dark bowels of the earth troubled her. “What is this dragon’s mouth everyone speaks of?” she asked, trying to focus on something besides the mountain swallowing her alive.

  “An amazing stone formation complete with carvings by ancient ones who lived here long ago.”

  “And it looks like a dragon?”

  “I canna do it justice with words. When we come to it, ye’ll understand.”

  The route narrowed, but not in the steady fashion of walls slowly drawing in, but with slabs of stone jutting into the path, first at knee level, then as high as their waists and shoulders. The ceiling sloped ever lower, making Brenna feel as though she had entered a tomb and the lid was closing on her. “Is this right?” she asked, feeling like her lungs weren’t getting enough air. A deep breath did little to dispel the dark weightiness crushing in from all sides.

  “Aye, love. I know it’s close, but this is the right path. I promise. Take heart, dear one, it opens up soon.”

  The acrid, oily smell of the pitch bucket made her head pound, adding to her uneasiness. She needed sunshine on her face, and a deep inhale of sweet Highland air. What she wouldn’t give to be in a field of heather at this very moment. Hitching in another deep gulping breath, she forged onward, determined not to give in to her mounting panic.

  “Breathe, mo chridhe. Focus on one step at a time and breathe. There’s plenty of air in here. I swear it.”

  “Ye always know what I’m feeling.”

  “It’s because ye are the other half of my soul, remember? Caves can be hard to bear. But ye’ve the strength to do it. Of that, I have no doubt.”

  His belief in her helped somewhat, but not nearly as much as when the tight passage opened out into a cavernous space with a ceiling so high, the light from the torch couldn’t reach it. “Praise God Almighty.” She held the torch higher and stretched her cramped muscles. Eerie formations dripped down into the light, looking like the pale knobby fingers of the dead. “Is the cache close?” While she appreciated the spaciousness of this part of the caves, the place had an unholiness about it. “Magnus?”

  “Aye, love. Just a bit farther once we cross this chamber.” Magnus turned toward her and guided the light from the torch to the right. “But first, look yon.” With a smiling nod, he walked them closer. “Behold, the dragon.”

  Her breath caught at the awesomeness before her. Its mouth open and lips curled back in an eternal growl, the beast looked as though it had frozen mid-leap through the cave wall. Moving closer, the intricate detailing on the carved stone embellished with faded dyes amazed her. How could an ancient people have accomplished such an elaborate work of art this deep inside the caves? “Who did this?” she whispered.

  “No one knows.” Magnus stayed within the arc of the light, staring up at the creation. “We just appreciate it for the wonder that it is. It protects the back entrance to Tor Ruadh.”

  “It truly is a wonder.”

  Stones bounced and slid off in the distance, echoing from somewhere in another passage.

  Brenna lifted the torch and stared in that direction, but only darkness waited past the glow of the flame. “Does that happen often?” She prayed it didn’t. Her poor nerves were raw enough without that torture.

  Magnus’s furrowed brow paired with a longer than usual silence did little to dispel her fears.

  “What?”

  He motioned her forward. “Come. We’ll rest when we reach the cache. It isna all that much farther.”

  When he ignored her questions, it meant there was cause for worry. “Who else might be in here?” she asked, keeping her voice barely above a whisper. Her stubbornness kicked in, keeping her in place just beneath the dragon’s open maw. She wasn’t moving until he gave her an answer.

  “I’m sure ’tis nothing.” Magnus motioned her forward. “Come.”

  “If ye are so certain it is nothing, why are ye watching the shadows as though they’re hiding demons?”

  “I am sure it’s as simple as a scurrying rat or some such animal.” Resettling the bundle on his shoulder, he tilted his head to the left. “Come. We must go in that direction. See the path off to the right that’s marked with the symbol chiseled above it? That leads to the cache.”

  His changing the subject was his polite way of refusing to answer. She had already learned that she might as well move on whenever he did that. His stubbornness matched hers. Her torch sputtered, its light getting weaker. “Should we light a fresh one? I dinna wish to lose our fire.”

  “Aye.” Magnus touched a fresh torch to the flame, squinting as the blessed brightness flared to life. “Can ye manage them both and the bundle across yer shoulder?”

  “I can manage anything I need to manage.” He had no idea all she had endured, and if she had her way about it, he would never know. The dear man felt guilty enough as it was. There was no need to add any weight to his burdens. “To the cache, aye?”

  The longer they hiked through the dark stone maze, the sharper her other senses became. Every scent, the slightest sound of a shifting pebble. She picked up on each of them. Whether Magnus admitted it or not, they were not alone, and it wasn’t an animal. Nay, it was a more fearsome beast. It was a person.

  “Are there any weapons stored in the
cache?” she asked as they hiked up an incline so slippery, they had to lean against the walls to keep from losing their footing. Struggling along, she concentrated on keeping the new torch held high. She returned the spent torch to the bucket to be used for firewood later. God help her, she hated the darkness. “Are there any weapons?” she repeated louder.

  “Aye, love. Swords and daggers. Maybe some lead shot.” He paused as they reached a particularly tight squeeze between two shelves of stone. “Might even be a long rifle or mayhap a pistol or two, but they rust so easy, I’m doubting it. I’m none too sure about gunpowder either. It wouldna do well in this dampness.” As they sidled their way along a narrow shelf bordering a dark abyss, he continued, “Why do ye ask?”

  She came to a halt, unable to hold her tongue any longer. “Someone is in here besides us, and it’s nay a rat or a bat, but a two-legged vermin of the most dangerous kind.”

  Magnus stared at her, the frustration in his eyes betraying his temptation to lie.

  “Dinna lie to me. Ye know as well as I that it’s the truth. Someone watches us.”

  He blew out a heavy breath. “From the sound of the scurrying, I’d bet my best dagger it’s Cadha.” Staring down into the abyss, his jaw tightened. “She has to be following our torchlight. I’ve seen no sign of light anywhere else.”

  “I have. A lantern, maybe. Or candle stub.” At first, she had thought her mind played tricks on her, but now she knew better. “But tell me how Cadha knows about the caves? Does the clan not guard their secret?” If the cave system of Tor Ruadh was common knowledge, how could they think themselves safe from the British here?

  “Many know of the caves,” he hastened to explain as they continued their trek. “But only a select few know of the safe rooms and locations of all the caches. The maze of tunnels is treacherous.”

  “All the caches?”

  “Aye. Supplies are stored in several places throughout the system.” The ledge they traversed widened, once again becoming solid cave floor where they could walk abreast rather than single file. “Ye never know where ye might need to take refuge within the caves. It depends on where ye enter the mountain and if the enemy is giving chase.”

 

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