Surrender

by Sophia Johnson

  "I just came from the postern gate," an out of breath guard said. "Someone has used a heavy blade to break a hole in the oldest part of the wall alongside the gate. 'Tis not very thick there to allow for the gate. They had it well-covered with brush, from the looks of it. Found this caught on a rough piece." He held up a small piece of thin fabric.

  Graemme grabbed it and held it to his nose. Heather!

  "Get yer weapons! Someone has taken my wife."

  Graemme didn't bother with being neat. He wrapped his kilt around him like it was a blanket and held it there with his sword belt. Sitting on a cot, he stomped into both boots at the same time. By the time he took two breaths, he sheathed his sword, strapped a dagger onto his thigh and started for the door.

  "Take Squat with ye." Grunda's voice was commanding. "The wily little dog isna cut deep. He must have shied away in time. He's come to lead ye to Gille and will help hunt for Elyne." Her eyes grew foggy and everyone stilled. They knew she was seeing something none of them could.

  "Look for the ruins of a castle. One who was dead has returned to seek revenge. Hurry, for he will be enraged that perfection has been blemished."

  Graemme didn't argue or ask for an explanation. Barking frantically, Squat ran out into the darkness.

  Graemme and ten of his men followed behind.

  Chapter 33

  Elyne's head hurt. When she opened her eyes, she could hardly see. Everything looked dark. She was terribly uncomfortable, so she wasn't in her bed. Why, she was standing against a damp, cold wall! Devil take it! She'd been walking in her sleep. This time, she knew she was in deep danger and 'twas likely no one would find her in time.

  A cold fist squeezed her heart, and her back felt as if a family of spiders crawled up it.

  Her arms were above her head. When she tried to move them, chains clinked against a moldy stone wall. She felt someone's presence. And heard tinkling laughter.

  The hated Elspeth! What was she doing here? For certs, she wouldn't be laughing if she, too, stood chained to a wall.

  "Ye made it so easy for me."

  Out of the shadows, the woman in the brown cloak came close. With a sweep of her hand, she threw back the hood and revealed the blond hair Elyne dreamed was Muriele's. She remembered wanting to get away from Graemme's painful presence in the keep and crawling through the hole in the wall at the woman's urging.

  "There was no wolf chasing me, was there?"

  "Nay. Only a young fool with hair as light as mine."

  "Gille! Ye didna harm him, did ye?"

  "If ye call plunging my dagger in him is harmful, then yes, I did. With great satisfaction. He was trying to stop ye."

  Elyne surged forward, until the chains jerked her to a halt. The shackles around her wrists cut into her skin.

  Elspeth laughed again then put her finger on her chin and tilted her head, pretending to think. "Oh, and the ugly creature ye're so fond of got in my way."

  Elyne cried out in anguish for the loss of the young man and the dog. Both had shown her loyalty and love since she'd met them.

  Before she could ask any other questions, someone carrying a torch descended the crumbling steps into the dungeon. He thrust the torch to Elspeth and came close. His hair was as light as Elspeth's and his face too comely for any man. Her mind went through all she knew of Magnus and Clibrick Castle. Her eyes widened in shock and she shook her head to make sure she was seeing aright.

  "Ye're Feradoch. But ye were dead when ye left Clibrick. Ye had no heartbeat!"

  "Does this feel like a dead man to ye?"

  He came over and brought his face close to her. He grabbed her chin to hold her steady and plunged his tongue into her mouth. Elyne tried to pull away but couldn't. She gagged, for after Graemme's kisses, this was no kiss but a vulgar intrusion.

  Feradoch's hand on her forehead slammed her head back against the wall.

  "That's for not returning the greeting." He scowled in the dim light and reached out to touch her hair. "Bring the cursed light close!"

  His pupils dilated when he grabbed her hair and felt over it, looking for braids. He grasped a handful and pulled her head down to see the back of it.

  A crazed look came over his face. Veins in his neck stood out in livid ridges as he shrieked. He struck her across the face with such force her head slammed into her right shoulder.

  "The bastard has cut yer hair to thwart me!" Grabbing her face again, he forced her to look at him.

  "What did ye do to deserve it? Were ye so foolish to tup another man? Mayhap the pretty youth Elspeth killed?"

  "I cut it myself! Mayhap ye'd best ask who yer leman has been tupping the last sennight!"

  He snarled, turned and backhanded Elspeth across her cheek. She held tight to the torch as she went flying against the far wall.

  "Get back here with the light." He kicked out at her to hurry her. Elspeth pushed away from the wall and came close.

  Elyne expected to see tears, hatred or some expression of horror at his striking her, but she had a rapturous look instead. Was the woman crazed?

  "Hold the fire close. I will see what pleasure she will bring us." His voice changed from harsh to silky. He moved his feet restlessly. "Let us see if her hair is as dark and fiery around her slit as on her head."

  When Elspeth held the torch close, Feradoch grasped Elyne's thin smock with both hands and ripped it from her body so swiftly it created a cold draft. To her shame, her nipples puckered.

  "Ye are anxious for me," he gloated and reached out to cup both breasts and squeeze.

  "Ye are as crazed as yer leman if ye think ye can take Graemme's place. Ye make my skin crawl."

  Elyne gathered all the courage she could and spat at his face.

  His fist hit her jaw. Though her ears rang so loud a thousand birds could be chirping in her ears, she imagined she heard a shout of rage.

  She welcomed the blackness.

  Graemme followed Squat, holding back his horse so the dog's little legs could keep ahead of him. When the dog veered off the path into the bushes, Graemme spotted Gille's body no more than 200 feet from the castle walls. Sliding off his horse, he was on his knees by the young man afore Brian or Colyne could join him.

  Blood covered Gille's chest. He breathed a sigh of relief, thankful the blade had struck a rib and deflected it from entering the young man's lungs. His breathing sounded labored, but his eyelids flickered open.

  "My Lord," he whispered, "I'm sorry. The small woman fought like a wild creature."

  Squat came close and licked his face, causing his lips to twitch in a strained smile.

  "I thought she'd killed the wee one."

  "I'll have to leave ye, but the men will get ye to Grunda." Graemme pointed to two men who ran over. "Bind his wound. Take him up in front of one of ye and get him to the old woman. She'll have him aright in no time."

  He forced a smile down at the young man. "Ye did a verra brave thing, lad. Yer lady will thank ye for it when I return with her."

  He had his foot in a stirrup and was onto his mount by the time he finished speaking.

  "Brian, let Squat go. He'll lead us to Elyne."

  They rode as fast as the little dog could smell the tracks. Squat's legs were lagging when they came to a rise in a hill. Off to the right they saw the ruins of a castle. Only the outer walls of the keep and the lower part of a tower remained.

  "Pick the dog up and dinna let him bark, Brian. Stay within the woods and go as quietly as ye can." He motioned to two men at the time, sending all eight to surround the ruins. Once they were in position in the woods, they got off their horses, drew their swords and quietly made their way into the ruins.

  Graemme inched up the crumbled part of the tower. When he came to an opening leading beneath the earth and saw flickering light coming from it, he motioned to Colyne to follow. Never had he walked so stealthily when his body urged him to run, for he knew Elyne was below.

  His lips twitched and a wave of acid welled up from his belly
on hearing what could only be Feradoch's voice. Though it was soft and silky at first, it became harsh and filled with fury.

  Below Graemme, a single torch held by Elspeth lit the small dungeon. Before he left this place of torture, he vowed to see her dead for what she was doing.

  A few steps more and the scene below unfolded like a nightmare.

  His beautiful Elyne hung from shackles against the moldy wall. Her cheeks flamed where Feradoch had struck her

  He reached out to rip Elyne's smock from her body. When he cupped both her beautiful breasts and squeezed, only Colyne's hand on his shoulder held him back.

  "Ye are anxious for me," Feradoch gloated.

  Graemme's anguish at seeing the pain on his love's face near made him cry out. When she spoke, it was the first time he knew she truly loved him as much as he did her.

  "Ye are crazed as yer leman if ye think ye can take Graemme's place. Ye make my skin crawl."

  She spat in her tormentor's face. Feradoch's mouth contorted grotesquely. He balled his fist and struck her. Her head banged back against the wall then fell forward, her knees crumpled and her weight hung on the shackles around her wrists. Streaks of blood trickled down her arms from where they cut into her fine skin.

  Graemme howled with rage as he leapt from the side of the stairwell. He landed close to the cell. Feradoch turned in surprise and ran toward him, screaming and drawing his sword.

  "Lock the bars, bitch!" Feradoch hollered at Elspeth.

  Colyne called out in his strongest voice, "To Graemme! To Graemme! The dungeon!" He too jumped down the last steps and ran to block Elspeth.

  Afore Colyne could reach her, she used the fiery torch to keep him back as she locked the cell's iron door.

  Over the years Feradoch lived within Clibrick Castle, Graemme had trained with him. Each knew the other's strength and weaknesses. Feradoch believed he was a superior fighter and could best anyone. He made sure he won, for faced with a loss, he resorted to every dirty trick he could. Graemme was familiar with those, too.

  With both hands on their fighting swords, they circled the area until Feradoch struck out. Their swords clashed together, screeching as the blades struck and slid down their lengths. They twirled and struck again, but neither drew blood. They danced apart and studied each other, then flew together for another strike. Feradoch's blade came straight down in a hacking motion, but Gramme turned his blade horizontally to block him and surge upward, shoving Feradoch backward. They tumbled to the floor, shoved apart and sprang back to their feet.

  Both blades were free and they attacked again. This time, Feradoch's blade swooshed through the air to behead Graemme. Graemme, expecting it, quickly ducked beneath the blade. As the blade sang in the air, Graemme felt his hair move. He swung his own sword and slashed the skin across Feradoch's thighs.

  Feradoch screamed with fury and twirled out of reach. Graemme had time to see Colyne out of the corner of his eye. His friend was having a hard time keeping Elspeth from burning him with the torch. Only his blade kept her back enough so she couldn't reach him. It would be a mistake to make her drop it. Dead leaves and branches on the earth floor accumulated over the years would go up in flames.

  Graemme heard the rest of the warriors arrive. He was even aware of Squat's frantic barking. He thanked God that Brian kept a good hold on him or, the wee dog might be injured.

  Elyne slowly raised her head and blinked, trying to clear her blurry vision. What hurt the worst? The back of her head, her cheek and jaw, or her wrists that felt like something was trying to separate her hands from her arms?

  Fuzzily, she realized 'twas her weight. She shuffled her feet closer to the wall and forced her legs to straighten. Where was that bastard Feradoch? And Elspeth? The woman was not right in the head to prefer the evil, comely blond to Graemme.

  Finally, everything seemed to come together. She knew where she was and what was happening so close to her prison.

  Saints help them! The crazy woman was trying to set Colyne afire! She was swinging the torch like a fiery sword. It lit even the corners of the room.

  'Twas like her dream! Two wolves, one black haired the other blond, struck at each other with their claws. Her forehead wrinkled. She winced again. She must not move her head or face. It hurt too much.

  Nay. 'Twas not claws. Swords. Though they snarled like beasts and their eyes clearly showed they intended to kill, they were not wolves but men.

  The shrill ringing in her ears was steel striking steel.

  Graemme had come for her! After she had shown him naught but scorn since they met—even more so in the past ten days! Yet, he cared enough to risk death to save her. When blood streaked across his chest, she kept herself from crying out. 'Twould distract him.

  Elyne's legs wobbled. Widening them a bit, she leaned back against the wall for support.

  As she watched, she caught her lower lip between her teeth.

  The men fought until both dripped with blood. Graemme began to tire, but each time he glimpsed Elyne hanging in the cell, fury spurred him on. Finally, Feradoch snarled, anticipating a kill. Both their blades pointed to the ceiling, ready to swing down on an unprotected shoulder. Graemme felt a surge of relief. One day while Ranald was at Raptor, he had shown Graemme a new maneuver. He prayed it worked as well now as on the practice field with wooden swords.

  When the blades clashed together, they slid down to the guarded hilt, forcing their hands down. By this time, their hilts were even with their stomachs. Graemme shoved forward until Feradoch jumped backward.

  He came at Graemme, his sword point aimed to stab him in the heart. Graemme used all his strength to force the blade up over Graemme's head. Turning slightly to the side, Graemme used his elbow to push Feradoch's arm out and away, giving him space. With a rapid move, he brought his own sword up beneath Feradoch's chin and slashed it across his throat.

  Feradoch's eyes widened in surprise. Blood spurted in rhythm, splattering Graemme. The dying man's arms dropped and his knees slowly folded until he crashed forward on the floor. The surge of blood slowed as his heartbeat weakened. Finally, it stopped.

  Exhausted, Graemme fell to his knees. His head was down as he gasped for breath.

  The men surged into the dungeon, now that they wouldn't be in the way. He saw a flash of hair as Squat headed for his mistress' cell.

  Elspeth evaded Colyne and ran with the torch's flame aimed for Graemme's face. Elyne screamed from her cell. He shook his head and looked up. His former love ran at him with a crazed look. He still had hold of his sword, though the tip rested on the floor. His lifted it to thrust the fiery torch out of the way. But he didn't have enough time. She came too quickly.

  His blade was halfway up. Crazed, Elspeth didn't notice. Didn't stop.

  With the fire still aimed at his face, she screamed incoherently. Squat swerved from his path and charged at the woman's legs. Just before she reached Graemme, the dog sank his teeth in her ankle and tripped her.

  Still screaming, she fell onto Graemme's blade. As the sword stabbed through her belly, he heard the sickening sound as it scraped against her backbone on its way through.

  The torch fell to the floor.

  Chapter 34

  As the torch ignited the debris, the fires of Hades broke loose in the crumbling dungeon. The dog howled when a spark lit the hair on his crooked tail and men yelled and stamped at the floor.

  The only quiet came from the two dead bodies.

  And Elyne, for she had passed out.

  Graemme gathered his senses and shoved himself off the floor. Brian grabbed the dog and swatted at its tail until the flame went out. Colyne and Graemme used their sword hilts to strike at the lock on the cell door. Finally, it broke open. The shackles were old. With one blow, they fell away. Graemme kept his arm around Elyne's waist to keep her from slumping to the filthy floor.

  "Hurry, Graemme! We canna hold back the fire!"

  "Get yerselves out! We're right behind ye," Graemme yelled.


  He handed Colyne his sword and swung Elyne up in his arms. He prayed the bairn was unharmed. He ran, dodging the flames until he reached the stairway. He didn't know which of his men it was, but someone grabbed his waist from behind and shoved, keeping him from stumbling over the side of the ruined steps.

  Those who had already escaped grabbed his shoulders and pulled him into the fresh air. Seeing his men were safely above, he glanced down as fire enveloped the dungeon.

  They ran from the ruins until they were clear of the flames shooting up from the gaping hole.

  "We didna take time to bring their bodies," one man said.

  Colyne handed Graemme a blanket.

  "Aye. 'Tis best they burn and are covered with rubble," Graemme said as he sat on the ground and tenderly covered Elyne's naked body on his lap.

  She groaned and kept her eyes shut tight like a fearful bairn.

  "Give her a drop of water," Colyne said as he handed his flask to Graemme. "She looks ready to pass out again."

  Elyne had a dreadful ache in her head. Someone was kissing her. Though sloppily.

  "Squat, not the lips, ye mangy cur." 'Twas Graemme's voice.

  Someone had wet a cloth and washed over her face. It felt delightfully cool. Opening her eyes, she blinked. Obviously, 'twas Squat with the sloppy kisses, for he kept shoving at Graemme's hand holding the wet cloth.

  Why was Graemme's chest so bloody? And his kilt?

  She blinked again.

  "Ye were injured!" She scrambled around and tried to get up, but he tightened his arms around her. "Let me go, ye dimwitted lout! Dinna ye know ye can bleed to death without someone tending to ye?"

  She grabbed the sides of her head, for pain shot through it when she moved.

  "Hm. Still calling me by delightful names are ye, my sweet talking wife?"

  Epilogue

  "Why is the bairn afeared to show himself?"

  Graemme stopped pacing to stand in front of Ranald. Chief Angus grinned at his son. Magnus had the nerve to laugh aloud. They had all gathered in the bedchamber across from Graemme and Elyne's while Muriel and Catalin helped Grunda with the birthing.