"Ye have your money,” she said. “Ye can let him go now."
"Oh, can I? How kind of you.” Roderick shook his head. “Ye cannae really expect to leave this place alive, can ye?"
"Nay, I suppose it was foolish to think ye would e'er honor your word like a true gentlemon."
She had guessed that he might strike her for that, but was still surprised when his fist struck her cheek. Kirstie fell to her knees, but quickly rose to her feet again. Payton was struggling against his bonds, obviously eager to get to Roderick and make him pay for that brutality. She could almost be glad that Payton was tied to the tree, as Roderick thought he had what he wanted, and might no longer hesitate to kill Payton.
"Gallant as always,” she muttered.
"And why should I behave gallantly toward such a little whore?” Roderick asked with a pleasantness that sent chills down her spine. “From virgin to slut in less than a month, but ye were always a quick learner, werenae ye? Yet, ye being such a wee, grey whisper of a lass, I was astonished at how brazen and greedy ye can become once your clothes are off. And ye certainly have acquired a taste for a mon, havenae ye? I had considered letting ye show me some of the fine skill ye displayed. For someone with such an irritatingly sharp tongue, yon gentlemon obviously found it sweet enough when it was put to such good use."
Kirstie was horrified. He had watched her with Payton in the garden earlier. If she judged the leers on the faces of Gib and Wattie correctly, so had they. Then she got angry, very angry. They had had no right to do that. What had occurred between her and Payton in that garden had been beautiful and private. These pigs were ruining that memory with their crude talk.
"Actually, the more I think on it, the more intrigued I become,” said Roderick. “I ne'er thought to teach a woman a trick or two. Aye, in fact I think I will give ye a try. If ye are as good as Sir Payton seemed to think ye were, I might allow ye to live for a little while."
"Ah, weel, there is a problem with that. Ye see, I sip upon only the finest of wines.” She cursed when he struck her again, but this time she held herself upright. “And if I am going to be sticking something in my mouth, I want it at least to be big enough so I ken it is there,” she added in a furious voice.
Payton groaned. Why was she trying so hard to enrage the man? He had been pleased when she had recovered so quickly from her horror over realizing their lovemaking had been observed. The rage she had then displayed had astonished him. Now he was terrified she was going to get herself killed.
Perhaps there was no rescue coming, he suddenly thought, and felt the chill of fear snake down his spine. Payton shook his head, ignoring the throbbing pain that resulted. There would be a rescue made. With only Gib and Wattie close at hand, that left all five of Roderick's remaining men out in the surrounding wood, easy targets for the ones who would be coming for him and Kirstie. This argument she was pushing the man into could prove dangerous. Once she may have known her husband's limits well, but he had changed in the last few weeks, become more insane and angry.
Before he could think of something to say, something that would warn her to be careful yet not warn Roderick or his men that a rescue may be imminent, Kirstie punched her husband. It was a good punch, skillfully executed and forceful. It knocked Roderick flat on his backside, but to Payton's dismay, the man came up swinging. Kirstie went down beneath Roderick in a flurry of skirts and petticoats and it was hard to see who was doing what to whom. Roderick finally got her pinned onto her back and Payton bellowed out a cry of outrage and denial when he saw the glint of a knife in the man's hand. He could feel the warmth of his own blood upon his wrists as he struggled to break free of his bonds.
A loud yell caused Kirstie to look and see what Roderick held. The knife was already plunging down before she moved, so she was unable to avoid it altogether. Kirstie screamed from fury as much as pain when the knife plunged into her side, for she realized he had intended to give her a vicious gut wound. Then, suddenly, Roderick was climbing off her, backing away. As she sprawled there on her back, struggling to regain the strength to move, she watched in horrified fascination as she was encircled by the children.
"Jesu, ‘tis the bairns,” muttered Ian. “Alice isnae going to like this."
"How did they get here?” asked Brett as he crawled up beside Ian and stared into the clearing.
"Followed us and met up with Callum where we left him. What about the men Roderick had set about in these woods?"
"Two preferred to die. Three decided to take their chances with the justice. They are fools if they think they willnae hang, but ‘tis their gamble to take. What do we do about this?"
"Get up as close as we can.” He turned to Eudard, who had just appeared at his side. “Tell everyone to carefully encircle the camp. I dinnae want any of the children hurt. They can judge if it is time to do something or wait until I give a signal.” The moment Eudard left, Ian went back to scowling into the camp.
"I suspect they just came to watch, but when Kirstie was hurt, they couldnae sit still,” Brett said.
"They willnae be able to sit at all for a few days after this,” muttered Ian. “Come on, best we get a little closer."
Payton really hoped he was having a vision brought on by pain and loss of blood. He did not want what he was seeing to be real. The children were not really out there standing around Kirstie like a tiny guard. Unfortunately, there was no denying the very real glint of the sun off the blade of Callum's knife.
Then he tensed but forced himself not to look around. If the children knew where they were, then so did the adults. The fact that the children had run right into Roderick's camp with no warning and no pursuit seemed to indicate that Roderick's perimeter guard had been eliminated, or soon would be. He hoped something happened soon, before any of the children got hurt and before Kirstie lost any more blood.
"What are ye doing here, Callum?” demanded Kirstie, dismayed by the lack of force in her voice.
"Protecting ye,” Callum answered.
Callum gave her one brief, sharp glance that told her he was not telling her everything he wanted to because everyone was listening. A look at Simon gained her the same silent message. The others were out there, but for some reason, the children had eluded their grasp and run to her. It was possible they had simply reacted to the sight of Roderick raising his knife. It was also possible that they had drawn closer than the adults and they had seen no one to help her when she had needed it. Either way, they were now in danger.
"What are these brats doing here?” snapped Roderick.
"Stopping ye from killing our lady,” Callum replied in a hard voice. “And Sir Payton,” he quickly added.
"Robbie,” Kirstie called and smiled weakly when the boy hurried to her side. “Help me sit up. Slowly,” she hissed out when the movement caused her wounded side to punish her with a shaft of excruciating pain. “Do ye have a knife?” she whispered, and the boy nodded. “Then I want ye to sneak o'er to Sir Payton and help him to get free of those bonds. He is wounded, too, ye ken, so he may need ye to stay beside him in case he needs your help to get out of here."
"I can do that,” Robbie said, “but ye are badly wounded, too."
"And have more help right here than I need whilst Sir Payton has none."
The boy nodded and slipped away. Kirstie noticed that Wattie and Gib had their gazes fixed upon her and relaxed a little. So long as she and the other children held Roderick's attention, Robbie ought to be able to do as she asked without any danger to himself. She turned her thoughts to a way to keep Roderick's attention on her and Callum, for if he remained interested, so would Gib and Wattie.
"I dinnae like this,” said Gib.
"Nay, the brats are a nuisance,” agreed Wattie.
"They are more than a nuisance."
"Do ye think Callum can use that knife, then?"
"Think, Wattie,” Gib ground out between tightly gritted teeth, “Where did the children come from? Why werenae they stopped by Colin or one o
f the other men? How did they e'en ken where we were?” He nodded when Wattie's eyes widened and he looked around nervously. “Exactly. The bitch's allies are out there. Or Payton's. Not much difference to us. Or Roderick."
"We should warn Roderick, then."
"He willnae listen anymore, Wattie, e'en if we could do it quiet-like. And whoe'er is creeping up on us will notice if all three of us just leave. Nay, old Roderick willnae leave. He thinks he can kill them and go to France and live like a laird there. Time to tend to ourselves, lad."
"Shame about the money."
"Something tells me there isnae as much in there as we think."
Wattie nodded. “A trick. Makes sense. Where can we go?"
"Weel,” Gib started inching back, toward the wood and their horses, “I was thinking the borderlands. They are said to be a rough, lawless people there. Go to one of the border clans, like the Armstrongs. ‘Tis said they are a hard lot of thieves and murderers. Aye, we will see how they do things.” He looked toward Roderick, who was engaged in a glaring match with Callum. “See ye in hell, Roderick, m'lad."
Brenda stepped out of the shadows by the big tree her brother Simon had picked for her to hide near. She watched the two men who had hurt Simon disappear into the wood, then spat on the place where they had just been standing. She looked toward her brother, saw him notch his bow, and knowing they would soon go home, she started to amble back to the camp.
Roderick drew his sword and held the tip to Callum's chest. “It would appear that your dagger is a wee bit short, eh, laddie? The question is, do I kill ye first or my traitorous wife?"
"Roderick, dinnae be a fool,” Kirstie said as she tried to edge herself between her husband and Callum. She could hear Payton cursing and prayed he would not try anything foolish once Robbie got him free. “Ye cannae win this."
"Nay, probably not, but I can make it cost some people verra dearly.” He turned the sword point on her, smiling faintly at the soft gasp of the children. “I believe I shall take ye to hell with me, m'dear. I wouldnae want to be alone."
Kirstie could almost feel the tense silence as Roderick started to swing his sword. Then there was the sound of men hurrying through brush and onto open ground. She could hear Payton cry out with a strange mix of fury and denial and some other strong emotion. All that settled in her mind, but made little impression. Her gaze fixed upon Roderick's sword, she used what little strength she had to shove Callum down onto the ground and held herself as the perfect target above his squirming, cursing little body.
There was a threatening whisper of a sound Kirstie knew she ought to recognize. It passed right by her. Callum suddenly went very still. The swing of the sword halted abruptly and the point of the blade was slowly lowered to the ground. Kirstie looked at Roderick to see what had changed his mind about her execution, and frowned. There appeared to be an arrow sticking out of Roderick's eye, but Kirstie's weary, pain-drugged mind was having trouble accepting what her eyes told her. Roderick's face was frozen in a look of surprise and then he slowly crumbled to the ground. Callum nudging her off him brought her to her senses.
"Simon,” Callum snapped as he stood up and glared at the other boy. “Ye killed him!"
"Aye, I did,” Simon said calmly as he retrieved his arrow and cleaned it off.
"But, I wanted to do it. I had a right to do it."
"He killed my fither. Nay with his own hands, the murdering coward, but he had it done, and all because my fither warned me about what that bastard did to boys."
Callum frowned a moment, then nodded. “Fair enough. But, when did ye learn to use a bow like that and what if ye had missed and hit me or our lady?"
Payton, helped over to sit down next to Kirstie by his brothers, was about to say the same thing, and far less kindly, when Simon quietly replied, “I never miss."
"Never?"
"Never have, nay with anything I throw either. My fither said I had the finest eye he had e'er kenned. I look at it, stare at it a wee bit, and I can hit it square.” He frowned when Brenda strolled up to his side after nudging her way through the crowd of men. “I told ye to stay hidden ‘til it was over."
"Saw ye aim your arrow and kenned it would be done soon,” Brenda said, smiling faintly when everyone stared at her, for it was the first time she had spoken since coming to live with them. “I saw the men who hurt ye and I spat on the ground where they stood and cursed them with warts and boils."
"Ye saw them, lass?” asked Payton, slipping his good arm around Kirstie, calmer now that he could see her wounds were painful, but would heal. “They slipped away, aye?"
"Aye,” replied Brenda. “They guessed your men were out there. They decided to go to another place."
"Did ye hear where that place was?"
Brenda nodded. “The borderlands. They want to go thieving. Said they would go and join up with the Armstrongs."
"Are ye sure they said the Armstrongs, lass?” Payton asked in a choked voice, fighting not to join in the growing round of laughter amongst the other men, if only because he suspected it would hurt.
"Aye, the Armstrongs. A hard lot of thieves and murderers, Gib said. They willnae be back, will they?"
"Och, nay, lass, they willnae be back.” He laughed, then winced when it hurt his shoulder.
It took Kirstie a moment to figure out why the men were all finding that so amusing, then sighed. “Another cousin, right?” she said and shook her head when he laughed, wincing even as he did so.
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CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
His Uncle Eric was right, thought Payton. Waking up to a sword at your throat was not a pleasant experience. Sir Eric loved to jest that there was nothing that could cool a man's morning ardor faster than finding four armed men encircling the bed. Next time he saw his uncle, Payton was going to have to tell him that seeing eight armed, glowering men was not just chilling—it could probably make a man impotent for a week. Which was a true shame for, after almost a fortnight of lying beside Kirstie, unable to do anything more than hold her close while they both healed from their wounds, he had woken up feeling very ardent indeed and more than able to tend to the matter. He did not think these men would be content to wait an hour or so while he indulged himself. They looked a little too eager to immediately cut him into very small pieces.
After studying the men surrounding his bed, he began to understand why they looked so murderous. Payton had the feeling he was looking at Kirstie's family. These men had the same black hair, the same handsome features as Eudard, and at least two of them had eyes just like hers. Since one of those was the oldest one amongst the group, Payton suspected that man was her father.
Payton felt Kirstie move against his side and quickly warned her, “We have company, love."
"Oh, dear."
Kirstie clutched the bedcovers as tightly as she could to cover herself as she looked at her family. Since Roderick's death, the guard around Payton's house had been greatly eased. She deeply regretted that at the moment. She found it a little amusing that they had arranged themselves around the bed in a tidy order from the oldest to the youngest. Then she decided she could not be fully awake yet, for there was nothing amusing about this tense, somewhat dangerous confrontation.
"Good morning, Fither,” she said calmly, then looked around at her brothers. “Ye brought them all."
"Aye.” Elrick Kinloch looked down at his daughter, his stormy grey eyes narrowed. “We got word that ye had been wounded. Then your wee message appeared saying your husband was dead, ye had been a wee bit wounded but were fine, and that Eudard was here so I shouldnae worry."
"And, ye shouldnae have worried, Fither. I was weel taken care of.” She grimaced at that poor choice of words when two of her brothers laughed, only to be glared into silence by her father. “Allow me to introduce—"
"Sir Payton Murray. Aye, I have heard of the rutting fool."
"Ye really shouldnae insult a mon in his own home."
"I will if he
is lying naked in a bed with my only daughter."
"He was wounded, too,” Kirstie said, pointing to the still-red scar on Payton's shoulder and the fading marks upon his throat. “It was a verra trying time."
Elrick sheathed his sword, but his stance remained an aggressive one. “And ye had to comfort each other, did ye?"
"Weel, it was easier for everyone to care for us this way.” It was not working, she mused, studying the angry look upon her father's face. “Now, I ken ye said ye have heard of Sir Payton Murray, but he doesnae ken who ye are. A mon ought to ken the names of those who invade his home waving swords about, dinnae ye think so? So, Payton, this is my father, Sir Elrick Kinloch, and my brothers Pedair, Steven, Colm, Malcolm, Blair, Aiden, and Aiken,” she said, pointing to each one lined up around the bed.
"I pray ye will pardon me for nay getting up to greet ye more properly,” drawled Payton.
"Payton,” she whispered when she heard the hint of belligerence in his tone, “didnae ye notice that I was trying to calm my family down?"
"To be honest, love, I couldnae really puzzle out exactly what it was ye were doing."
She decided to ignore him as he was obviously going to act all manly and aggressive and she already had eight of that breed to deal with. “So, Fither, now that ye all ken each other, perhaps ye could leave us alone for a wee while and—"
"I wouldnae leave ye alone with this fool. Ye have been alone with him too much and look where it has gotten ye. And, I couldnae leave now if I wanted to."
"Why not?"
"Because someone has a knife stuck in my arse."
Kirstie sighed. “Callum, these are my father and my brothers. They willnae hurt me."
Callum peered around the tall, broad-shouldered Elrick. “It wasnae really ye I was worried about. When I saw these men creeping about up here, I moved fast to keep a watch on them. Soon recognized that they were your kinsmen, but kenned they might be a wee bit angry with Sir Payton."
"Oh, nay,” muttered Eudard as he stepped into the room, his tossled hair and mussed clothing indicating that he had hurried out of his bed.
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