Highland Angel

by Hannah Howell

  "Nay, though I would have liked to.” Callum sighed. “For a wee while, ‘til Lady Kirstie made me see that he couldnae help being a sneaky, cowardly traitor. If ye look close, ye can probably see a wee bit of a lass sticking out around Simon. ‘Tis his sister Brenda cowering behind the fool. Roderick and his swine got hold of her and made Simon help them."

  "I am so sorry,” whispered Simon, wiping at the steady flow of tears on his bruised face with a ragged sleeve. “They told me they would kill her like they killed my fither."

  "They told ye they had killed your fither?” asked Callum.

  "Aye.” Simon took several deep breaths and began to grow steadier.

  "Then ye had best stay with us. Ye and wee Brenda."

  "Nay. I ken ‘tis my fault Lady Kirstie got took away. Me and Brenda will go back to the Darrochs."

  "And be dead faster than I can spit. They told ye they murdered your fither. Think they want ye telling anyone about that? Nay. Stay here.” Callum sighed somewhat dramatically. “I suspicion I can forgive ye.” He looked at Malkie and Donald, who were watching him with a mixture of amusement and astonishment. “They rode out toward Thanescarr. Thought they would, but followed a ways just to be sure. Lady Kirstie was all limp, but I dinnae think she is dead."

  "Payton is going to skin us alive,” muttered Malkie as he stood up and helped a groggy Donald to his feet.

  "Should I go fetch him?” asked Callum.

  "Nay, lad. Ye would barely get to the castle ere he would be headed home and he would still have to come here first. That is, if he is e'en at the castle. Nay, stay here, rest, and eat, and start thinking about ways we might get into Thanescarr to get her ladyship out of there."

  "I dinnae need to rest or eat, and I already ken how to get into Thanescarr."

  "Weel, ye cannae run off and save her all by yourself."

  "I ken it. I will go fetch Strong Ian. I ken where he went and Sir Payton will be wanting him here, ready and waiting, aye?” When both Malkie and Donald nodded, Callum carefully checked his weapons, then cursed. “I am missing a dagger. Stuck one in that pig Gib. Hope he didnae steal it."

  "Just how many knives do ye have on ye, lad?” asked Malkie, staring at Callum in wonder.

  "Had six. Still, I suspicion I dinnae need that many to go and fetch Strong Ian home. The ones I need to keep watch for are all riding fast for Thanescarr, arenae they?” he muttered and kicked at a stone. “I wasnae a verra good protector."

  Malkie patted the boy on the shoulder. “Neither were we, lad, and we dinnae have the excuse of being only eleven."

  "I shouldnae have heeded her when she told me to take Simon and Brenda to safety. I should have stayed by her side."

  "Nay. Ye did just as ye ought. Ye helped the children, ye obeyed your lady's command as ye should, and now ye are here to help us rescue her. She probably kenned ye have information that could help us and wanted to be sure ye lived."

  "Weel, mayhap.” He took a deep breath to steady himself. “I will go fetch Ian home."

  Watching the boy trot away, Donald looked at Malkie. “Are ye sure that lad is only eleven?"

  Malkie laughed. “Aye. Eleven going on thirty. Come, Simon and Brenda. Best we get inside. Callum may not need rest and food, but I do. I will need all the strength I can garner to face Sir Payton with the news that we lost his lady."

  Callum hurried along the path Ian had told him they would take to the woods. He felt afraid, tears stinging his eyes, and he hated the feeling. Although it had been a long time since he had seen Roderick, one look at the man had brought all the old, ugly feelings back, and he still felt sick. He hated that feeling, too.

  Strong Ian was teaching him how to be strong, but now, Callum knew he was not strong enough yet. He was still a scared little boy inside. He wanted to sit down and cry, wail like a wee bairn. Callum swore he would not let Sir Roderick make him weak again, would not let that man make him cry.

  Starting to run, he told himself that Kirstie loved him. He had to save her. She was the only one who had ever cared about him and he could not let that beast have her. Losing Kirstie would also make Sir Payton, Strong Ian, and Wee Alice unhappy, and he could not let that happen, either. They were all kind to him, treated him like a normal little boy, even as a soon-to-be man, even though they all knew about what Sir Roderick had done to him. He had a place with them, one where he did not have to be afraid or ashamed, and he would not let the beast take it away.

  He felt a sob choke him and swallowed it. Despite all his prayers, the beast was back. He was making everything dark and frightening and horrible again. Callum started to mutter every curse he knew. He would not let the beast win. He would not let the beast hurt his lady and his friends. Then he felt someone grab his arm and panic ruled.

  "Here, now, laddie, what ails ye?” Ian's eyes widened when Callum pulled a dagger from inside his sleeve. “Now, ‘tis Ian, lad. Aye? Ye ken I willnae hurt ye. Ye can put the knife away."

  Callum stared at the dagger in his hand, then at Ian. He had almost stabbed his friend, the man who was helping him get strong. It was all the beast's fault, he thought as he sheathed his knife. When a worried Alice handed him a wineskin, Callum drank greedily from it and felt the cool cider start to calm him.

  "The beast has taken Lady Kirstie,” he said, and frowned when Alice started to wipe his face with a clean scrap of linen. Then he realized his face was wet with tears. “I was running so fast the wind stung my eyes bad."

  "Aye, laddie, it can do that sometimes,” she said and began to pat the shoulders of the five children now huddled all around her skirts. “Do ye mean Sir Roderick when ye speak of the beast?"

  "Aye.” Callum gave them a quick explanation of what had happened. “I couldnae protect my lady,” he confessed in a soft, unsteady voice, and fixed his gaze upon Ian. “I wanted to, but she told me to go, to take Simon and Brenda away."

  "Which is exactly what ye should have done,” said Ian. “Get the bairns in the cart, Alice. We need to hurry home."

  "This is all my fault,” Alice said, fighting tears. “Ye would have been there to help her if I hadnae forced ye out here."

  "Ye didnae force me, and ‘tisnae your fault, either. Get in the cart, lad,” he told Callum. “Ye need to rest and get your strength back as I am thinking we will need your help to get Lady Kirstie back."

  For a while Callum did as he was told, but he was quick to get his strength back. Soon after his breathing had grown steady and the trembling in his body had faded, the cart he shared with the other children grew too confining for him. He needed to do something, but he knew he could not help Lady Kirstie, not yet. They had to get Sir Payton and make a plan. Finally, too agitated to sit still, he hopped out of the cart and moved to walk beside Strong Ian, who walked at the front of the cart Wee Alice drove, while the guard Angus walked behind.

  "I thought I told ye to rest,” Ian said to Callum, but his voice was calm, carrying no hint of a scold.

  "I ken it,” Callum replied, “but I was getting agitated e'en though I ken we cannae do anything yet."

  "Agitated, is it?"

  "Lady Kirstie taught me the word. It has a nice sound, I am thinking."

  "Aye, it does. Makes ye sound clever, too."

  "Good. But, I will try to be calm. We need to make a plan to get my lady back."

  "Aye, we do,” agreed Ian. “'Tis hard to go slow at times, but ‘tis for the best, and I suspicion we will have to make Payton recall that. Ye go charging in blind and all afire and the only thing ye will have on your side is luck. Weel, luck is a verra fickle thing. Nay, ‘tis best to pause and use wit and cunning, especially when your enemy expects ye to come to him."

  Callum lightly bit his lip, then asked quietly, “Sir Payton will want to rescue Lady Kirstie, aye?"

  "Of course he will, lad. I will have to keep a tight grip on the reins to stop him from charging off blind to rescue his lady."

  "Is she?"

  Ian frowned down at the boy. “Is s
he what, lad?"

  "Is she his lady? I thought she might be, but then I sometimes get to thinking she might just be someone he likes to tup."

  "Ah.” Ian glanced back at his wife, saw that she was busy talking to the other children so would not be listening to him, and then he looked back at Callum. “Ye really shouldnae speak of your lady that way, but I ken what ye mean. So, I will speak plain to ye. Aye, Payton is a bonnie rogue and has tupped more than his share of lasses. He doesnae see your lady as just one of those. I have been with him near all my life and I am certain he doesnae see her as just a bonnie lass to warm his bed for a wee while. For one thing, if one lass said nay, he would just go and find one who would say aye, and he didnae wait a fortnight to do it. He would have waited e'en longer for your lady."

  "So, do ye think he will marry with her, make her truly his lady?"

  "Now there is where I grow a wee bit uncertain. I think he would be a pure idiot not to.” He exchanged a brief smile with Callum, who nodded his agreement. “I think they are a perfect match, but ‘tis they who have to see it and they do seem intent upon making it all so verra complicated.” Ian was thrilled when the boy chuckled, but forced himself to act as if it was no grand thing, as if the boy had not so recently been weeping and terrified.

  Callum slipped his hand into Ian's and felt the man's steady calm wash over him. “I am so sorry I pulled a knife on ye. I was afeared of the beast again, for a wee while,” he confided softly. “He took Lady Kirstie and I thought he would soon be turning everything sad and horrible again. But, we willnae let him, will we?"

  "Nay, laddie, we willnae.” He briefly, lightly, squeezed the boy's hand. “We will get wee Lady Kirstie back and put things right again. And, there may be some good to come of this."

  "Oh, aye? What?"

  "Weel, I am thinking having a wee taste of losing the lass might be enough to shake some sense into Payton."

  [Back to Table of Contents]

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  "He doesnae seem to be verra sensible yet,” Callum whispered to Ian as he watched Payton storm around the great hall.

  Ian bit back a smile. “Nay, but I think he needs to rant a wee while."

  "Oh. I hope he finishes soon as we need to do some planning and go get my lady."

  "If he doesnae, I will go and give him a wee knock offside the head.” He could not fully suppress a smile this time when Callum solemnly nodded as if that was a perfectly reasonable solution.

  Payton saw Ian's fleeting smile and had to fight the urge to grab the man by the front of his doublet, shake him vigorously, and demand what he could possibly find so cursed amusing. He grasped the mantel of the huge fireplace, stared into the cold hearth, and fought for calm. He did not have to look behind him to know what waited there. Ian, Malkie, Donald, and Angus all waited for orders. Callum waited to tell him all he knew about the ways in and out of Thanescarr and to hear how they would rescue Kirstie. He was not sure why the poor, battered Simon was there, but suspected guilt made the boy want to do something to help.

  He had arrived home in a foul mood, eager to find some calm and comfort in Kirstie's slender arms. The news that Roderick had taken Kirstie had been a hard blow. The man's talk of cuckoldry and wife theft had gotten Payton banished from the court. Now the man had Kirstie. Roderick was winning. It was intolerable.

  His fear for Kirstie had soared swiftly and was like a live thing inside of him. There was a small scrap of comfort to be found in the knowledge that Roderick could not murder her now. Too much attention had been drawn to him and his wife. In truth, Roderick's talk of being a poor, cuckolded husband would now work in Kirstie's favor. If she turned up dead too soon after her husband had taken her back, everyone would assume Roderick had killed her for her unfaithfulness.

  What troubled Payton were the thoughts of all the other things that could happen to Kirstie while in her husband's grasp. He could clearly recall all Callum had told him the day Roderick had discovered Kirstie was alive, all the man's two lackeys had said. Roderick could be handing her to Gib and Wattie even now. Those two brutes could hurt her badly, could easily kill all the sweet passion inside of her, with their abuse.

  "Payton?” Ian called, his voice holding both sympathy and a call to action.

  "Aye, my tantrum is done.” He walked to the table where they all sat, poured himself some wine, and sat down to face them all. “Have ye thought of all the ways we might get into Thanescarr, Callum?"

  "I have,” Callum replied. “I think I ken them all. As I told my lady, I like to ken where the hiding places and the boltholes are. Didnae work so verra weel at Thanescarr, for Roderick kept a close watch on me. But, then, Kirstie and I found a few more. ‘Tis how I escaped, how we got the bairns out."

  "Do ye think Kirstie will try to get out through one of these ways?"

  "She willnae be able to get to them. He will lock her in her bedchamber. I am nay sure why, but there is a way in to there, but nay a way out unless someone is in the passageway and opens the door for ye. There is no one at Thanescarr now who will do it for her."

  "But, there are ways into Thanescarr that Roderick doesnae ken about?"

  "Aye. And, I can get ye from one of them to the passage outside her bedchamber."

  "Good. ‘Tis enough. Odd that the mon doesnae ken such things,” Payton murmured, suffering a flicker of doubt.

  "'Twas nay his home until he turned one and twenty,” Callum said. “'Twas some cousin's. Few of the people his cousin had still work inside Thanescarr and them what do willnae tell Roderick anything, if they e'en ken about the bolt-holes."

  "Good, then our plan is simple. But, first,” he looked at young Simon, “did ye hear the men say anything about what they planned to do with Lady Kirstie?"

  "Gib asked if the laird was going to put her in the cage, but the laird said he couldnae.” Simon frowned. “Said there were too many eyes turned his way right now."

  "He didnae say exactly where he might put her, though?"

  "I dinnae ken. He said he would put her where she belonged. Wattie said he didnae ken how that was any good, as she had slipped out of there before. The laird said she wouldnae do so this time as, by the time he gets her back to Thanescarr, the cursed doors will have a bolt on the outside."

  "Then he has put her in her bedchamber,” Callum said. “He used to lock her in there, but caught her slipping back in one night and realized she could pick the lock. That was one reason he decided he had to kill her. He kenned she had seen too much, had been wandering about free for too long not to have seen a lot."

  Payton nodded, the formation of a sound plan helping him gain some calm. “Then Callum will lead me and Ian inside. Malkie, ye, Donald, and Angus are to make sure no one discovers our bolt-hole.” He smiled gently at Simon, who was struggling to stay awake. “And ye, Simon, are to go to bed."

  "I am so sorry, sir,” Simon said as he slowly stood up. “'Tis all my fault."

  "Nay. Ye held firm when ‘twas only yourself being threatened and hurt. ‘Tis enough. Ye were wise enough to ken the mon was speaking true when he threatened your wee sister. ‘Twas right that ye protected her. Now, get some rest.” The moment Simon left, Payton looked at Callum and cocked one eyebrow. “I hope ye heeded what I just said."

  "Aye,” Callum said, struggling to look innocent. “We have a plan now. I heard it all."

  "I meant what I just said to Simon and weel ye ken it. Ye are to cease calling him a coward and a traitor. They threatened his sister and he had to think of her. I am sure the fact that they told him they had murdered his father counted a great deal in his decision to believe their threats."

  Callum nodded. “I will stop. Since they followed my trail right to him, ‘tis my fault, in a way, that he e'en had to make that decision. So, are we going to go after Lady Kirstie now?"

  "Verra shortly. I want the shelter of nightfall. Roderick is expecting us, but I would rather he didnae ken we came until it is too late for him to stop us."

 
"In and out like a wee breeze."

  "Aye, lad, exactly like that. Roderick thinks he is winning at the moment, but he will soon realize he has but begun to lose."

  Kirstie slowly opened her eyes. For a moment, it did not seem strange to be lying on her old bed in Thanescarr; then her wits began to clear. Panic surged through her and she fought it back down. She knew she had every right to be afraid, but refused to let herself be ruled by that fear. It would gain her nothing, but would certainly please Roderick.

  The pain in her jaw was enough to bring tears to her eyes, as was the throbbing from the knock on the back of her head. Very carefully, she tested her jaw, relieved to find it was not broken. One of her teeth was a little loose, but she knew from past experience that that would heal itself if she was careful and Roderick did not hit her there again for a while. As slowly as possible, she rose until she was sitting on the edge of the bed. She clutched the thick, carved bedpost to steady herself as she fought back waves of dizziness and nausea.

  It was several agonizing minutes before she felt she could move again, and, cautiously, she got to her feet. Kirstie inched her way over to the window. From the angle of the sun and the sparse activity in the bailey below, she judged it to be nearly nightfall. Roderick had obviously hit her very hard indeed for she had been unconcious for nearly four hours, perhaps more. That did mean, however, that if she could get out, she would have the shadows of nightfall to aid her in her escape.

  Then she heard a chilling noise. It was the sound of a bolt being drawn back—on the outside of the door. Roderick had turned her bedchamber into a very effective prison. The window was too high to escape through. There were no secret ways out of her room, only in, and that one required someone to open it from the other side. Now it appeared that Roderick had made sure she could not pick the lock on her door, or on the one leading into his bedchamber. Escape would require a great deal more work than she was capable of at the moment. Kirstie refused to think that escape might now be impossible, for such thoughts destroyed hope and she desperately needed hope to cling to.