Everything In Its Time

by Dee Davis

  Evidently his efforts were enough to turn the tide, because the two little guys suddenly took off in opposite directions, leaving the massive warrior guarding the ruin on his own. Out of the corner of his eye, Jeff saw a couple of Iain's men dash after the fleeing gatekeepers.

  The big man flexed the arm holding the axe, brandishing it in warning to those who might consider further advance, his eyes never leaving Iain, having correctly identified him as the leader. With an almost imperceptible nod at Ranald, who then dropped back, Iain and the others began to move forward, Iain slightly in the lead. Jeff, uncertain as to the plan, decided to follow Ranald, who was stealthily winding his way around some fallen rubble toward the ruin. Surveying Ranald's route, Jeff realized his intent was to sneak up behind the big bruiser, who now stood a few feet in front of the tower steps. Careful to step quietly, Jeff followed Ranald, figuring that maybe he could add his help to the effort.

  The giant was so intent upon the advancing Iain that he never even saw Ranald. With one strong thrust, Ranald ran the man through. He let out a roar, turning like a wounded beast on Ranald, his teeth bared in anger. But before he had time to inflict any damage, Iain's men were upon him. Jeff watched as Iain, without so much as a backward glance, leapt onto the steps that lead into the ruin, taking them two at a time.

  *****

  Breathing heavily, Katherine tried to pull herself together. She struggled to banish the picture of Sorcha's broken body from her mind. She tensed as Alasdair tightened his arm around her, once again drawing her close against his body.

  "You see, my dear, my hand"—he flexed it in front of her face—"has two personalities. It can be gentle,"— he caressed the smooth curve of her cheek—"or rough." Without warning, he backhanded her across the face, splitting her lip with force of the blow. "The choice"— he bent and with a delicate flick of his tongue lapped at the blood on her lower lip—"is yours."

  Katherine spit at him, hitting him on the outside of an eye, grateful for a brother who had spent an entire summer teaching her to spit like a guy.

  "So be it then, my beautiful witch." Alasdair hit her again, this time hard enough to make her head swim, but she didn't fall. She felt his hand gathering the fabric of her skirt but was too dazed to react. In an instant it, too, was ripped open and she stood before him dressed only in the tattered remains of her clothing. He reached for her with one hand and pulled her to him roughly by the hair, his other hand already groping a path down her belly. He bent his head, licked her breast, and forced it deep into his greedy mouth. Katherine struggled, trying to stop him. Her head connected with his and he let out a yelp of pain, then slung Katherine to the floor.

  Her head cracked against the stone of the wall, her vision blurring and her ears ringing. She blinked slowly, feeling something wet trickle down her forehead, following the channel alongside her nose. She turned and wiped her face on her shoulder, leaving behind a smear of blood. With great effort she tried to hold on to consciousness, to fight. But the effort was becoming more difficult with each passing moment.

  She heard Alasdair's sword fall with a clang as he released the scabbard from around his waist. With a feral smile, he sprang at her and straddled her body. In one swift motion, he used a knife to cut the ropes binding her legs. She tried to kick, but he shifted his weight, effectively pinning her. The hand with the knife moved to her throat even as he reached for the sweet soft center of her.

  "Enough of our games, Katherine. 'Tis time for the joining."

  She tried to think of a weapon, of something else she could do to him. But it seemed that there was nothing left. She filled her lungs to scream just as his lips descended on hers.

  *****

  Iain stood in the remains of the great hall. It was empty. There was a floor below and a floor above. He hesitated, knowing that if he chose the wrong way, it could cost Katherine her life. Something slammed into the wall above him with a thud and he heard a muffled scream. With terror clawing at his innards, he tore up the stairs, his feet hardly touching the steps.

  Katherine's scream still ringing in his ears, he stopped in front of a wooden door barred from the outside. With a strength born of fear, he loosened the bar and swung the door open, his claymore in hand.

  He froze on the other side. Alasdair had Katherine on the floor, his knife at her throat and his legs wrapped around her nearly naked form. Rage replaced terror.

  "Unhand my wife, Davidson." He spoke through clenched teeth, each word resounding through the chamber like a hammer blow.

  Alasdair rolled over, pulling Katherine with him, the knife still at her throat. Slowly he rose, using her as a shield. Katherine's eyes flared with emotion at the sight of Iain, but then dulled over again with fear and pain.

  "Let her go. 'Tis me you have a grievance with, no' her." Iain moved more fully into the chamber, careful to make no sudden movements.

  Alasdair smiled at him, one hand holding the dagger, the other caressing Katherine. "Ah, Iain, so nice of you to join us. Although I must say your timing could have been a little better. I was just getting ready for a taste of your wife, and I'm afraid you've interrupted." He deliberately let one long finger stroke her breast, his eyes never leaving Iain's.

  "You'll forgive me if I dinna let her go just now, won't you?" He slowly circled the chamber, moving as far away from Iain as he could. His eyes glittered with something close to madness.

  Iain spoke in a low conversational tone. "I'd never have thought you for a man to hide behind a woman, Alasdair."

  "I could take you with no trouble, Iain," Alasdair hissed, "but it seems that I'm over here and my sword is over there." He motioned to the abandoned scabbard that lay at Iain's feet.

  With a kick, Iain sent it flying in Alasdair's direction. Inching down, forcing Katherine with him, Alasdair reached out for the sword. He closed his hand around the hilt and slowly stood again, keeping Katherine's body pressed to his. Holding the sword against Katherine's middle, he sheathed the dirk and then raising his sword arm, sent her flying toward the crumbled window with a shove.

  Iain watched, his heart in his throat, as she hit the floor with a sickening thud and rolled to the edge of the precipice. She lay there unmoving, her eyes closed.

  With a low growl, Alasdair lunged at Iain. He wrenched his thoughts from Katherine's still body, deftly dodging the blow. "A bit off your mark, Alasdair. You should have had me with that one." He moved back, taunting him, watching as Alasdair's face mottled with rage.

  "Talk all you want, Iain Mackintosh, because soon everything that you have, including your whore of a wife, will be mine. I deserve it. I worked for it. Everything was perfect until Angus dismissed me in favor of you." He swung his sword again, wildly.

  Iain met the thrust with his own, the two blades bouncing harmlessly off one another. He tried not to think of Katherine lying there, balanced on the edge of the gaping hole. "Of course he did. I'm his son."

  They circled each other warily.

  "Aye, maybe by blood, but all those years 'twas me who was really a son to him. I flattered him. I listened to his tales. I nursed him through his sorrow and his ale. I loved him." Alasdair hissed in anger. "And I killed him."

  Iain froze for a split second, a rage so powerful it threatened to overwhelm him smashing into his consciousness. "You?"

  He struck out at Alasdair with mindless fury. Their swords met, Alasdair easily deflecting the blow.

  "Me. Your witch of an aunt did the hard part for me; all I had to do was finish the job. And everything would have worked out nicely, too, if only you hadn't been so reluctant to marry my sister."

  "Did you think to gain Duncreag through my marriage?" Iain fought to control his anger.

  Alasdair crooked his thin lips in a malicious smile. "Aye, after you were dead."

  Iain glanced at Katherine. She still hadn't moved. He circled slowly, watching Alasdair for an opening. "Surely, you dinna think you could murder me and then claim my holding."

  Alasdair t
ightened his hand on his claymore. "Of course no'. I wouldna have been accused of your murder."

  "The Macphersons?"

  Alasdair dipped his head slightly in agreement. "A brilliant plan, you have to admit. Although to pull it off I had to give up the dirk." He cast a covetous look in the direction of Iain's sheathed knife. "No matter," he said with a delicate shrug, "I'll have it again soon enough." He cast a lecherous glance at Katherine. "And your wife too. I canna wait to bury myself in her."

  "I'll see you in hell first." Iain lunged at Alasdair, catching his arm with the tip of his blade.

  Alasdair's fingers jerked opened reflexively and his sword fell from his nerveless hand, clattering against the stone floor. He snarled at Iain and slipped sideways toward Katherine. With a mighty roar, Iain rammed his claymore into Alasdair, the force slamming him back against the wall, leaving him impaled there, his eyes open but empty. Iain released his weapon, leaving it, and Alasdair, suspended from the stones.

  Katherine moaned and started to move. Iain dropped to his knees and slowly began to crawl toward her. His throat tight with fear, he whispered, "Katherine, 'tis Iain. I've almost got you. Dinna move, lass. Dinna move."

  At the sound of his voice, she struggled to sit, and in that instant he saw her eyes open, wild with fear. One leg slid over the opening, leaving her straddling the breach. His pulse racing, he reached for her, his hand closing around one slim ankle. Carefully, he inched his way forward until he could pull her into the safety of his arms. She whimpered as she burrowed into the warmth of his chest. He held her close, rocking her and murmuring soft nonsensical words of love. She was battered and bruised, filthy and bleeding, but she was alive. And he had never loved her more.

  *****

  Jeff rounded the last curve of the stairs and came out on the small landing. With considerable effort, he raised his sword, listening for some noise, a clue to Iain's whereabouts. A scuffling sound came from a door halfway down the landing wall. Back to the wall, he worked his way to the opening and sprang through it, ready for battle. Across from the door, in dark relief against the gray Highland sky, he saw Iain cradling his sister. Heart in throat, he met Iain's eyes with one silent question.

  "I think she's lost consciousness again, but she lives," Iain told him.

  Jeff rushed to Iain's side, oblivious to the remains of the man skewered against the wall. He had eyes only for Katherine. With a gentle hand, he ran his knuckles across her cheek, fingers smoothing her tangled hair back, away from her face.

  "Kitty? It's Jeff—can you hear me?" There was no response. He felt her neck for a pulse and was relieved to feel it beating a faint but regular rhythm. He tried again. "Hey, you, the least you can do after my coming all this way is open your eyes and say hello."

  She moaned then, moving her head a little from side to side. Iain tightened his arms protectively around her. They heard her sigh, and both of them watched intently as her eyes slowly fluttered open. Gray eyes, glazed with pain and the remnants of horror, looked up at them. She swallowed, trying to force out the words. "Alasdair?"

  Jeff shifted quickly to block her vision of the body on the wall as Iain lovingly cradled her head. "He's dead, mo chridhe," Iain told her. "He canna harm you anymore." She stared at him a moment and then, seemingly accepting his answer, nestled closer into his arms, turning her head slightly to look at her brother. Again she struggled for words. "How? Why?"

  Jeff smiled gently. "I couldn't let you have all the fun, could I? Besides, I had to check out the guy you were gonna marry. Brother's prerogative and all that."

  Katherine lips twitched, a weak attempt to smile. But almost before the motion was completed, her eyes closed and she lapsed back into unconsciousness. Iain met Jeff's worried gaze and said, "We must get her back to Duncreag."

  "Yeah, she's probably suffering from shock. And who knows what else that bastard did to her."

  Iain's jaw tightened. He carefully passed Katherine to Jeff, then reached to unclasp the brooch that held his plaid in place. Releasing it, he stood and removed his belt, unwinding the voluminous material. He bent then and, taking Katherine from Jeff, gently wrapped her in its soft folds. He lifted her high into his arms, cradling her against his massive chest.

  "My sword." With a tilt of the head, he gestured toward the wall.

  Jeff walked over to the dead man and yanked the claymore from the wall. The body slid down the stones to the floor, landing in a heap. Using his good arm, Jeff balanced the two heavy swords against his hip and followed Iain from the room, leaving Alasdair Davidson's corpse as fodder for the beasts that called the ruin home.

  The two men slowly made their way down the stairs and out of the tower, Iain holding their precious burden. Iain's men were gathered in the remains of the courtyard. The body of the giant was nowhere to be seen, but the two smaller men were bound and tied onto packhorses. Jeff had momentary visions of doing violent things to them. Perhaps, he reflected, there was a bit of the barbarian in him after all.

  Ranald approached Iain and Jeff, leading Sian behind him, and eyeing the blanket-clad Katherine with concern. "Is she alive then?"

  "Aye. But we've no idea what she's been through. I want her safe at Duncreag as quickly as possible."

  "Fine, we're ready to leave. But Iain, there's something more you need to know." Aqua eyes met green. "The scream we heard dinna belong to Katherine. We found Sorcha's body on the rocks there." He pointed to the cliff below the rear wall of the tower.

  Iain looked toward the rocky ledge and shrugged, his concern with the living now, not the dead. "So be it." He turned back to the group of men and carefully transferred his plaid-wrapped burden to Jeff, then swung into the saddle and reached down for Katherine.

  Jeff looked up at Iain, his arms tightening around his sister. A fierce possessiveness shook him, a desire to hold on to his sister, to keep her safe. She shifted restlessly in his arms, calling out for Iain. He touched her face and, releasing a breath, lifted her into her husband's waiting arms.

  Mounting his horse, he felt the throbbing in his arm and realized with a rush just how tired he was. A nice hot shower and a long sleep would probably go a long way toward a cure. Realizing that the former was most likely impossible, Jeff decided that he'd have to settle for the latter. And after that he'd see to Katherine. With a tired flick at the reins, he motioned his horse forward and followed Iain back to Duncreag.

  Chapter 25

  IAIN STIRRED THE last glowing embers of the fire. The moon had set long ago, leaving the chamber clothed in deep shadows. He replaced the poker and returned to the chair by the bed. Katherine shifted, groaning in her sleep. Her hands curled around the blankets, looking pale and fragile. Her hair spilled across the pillow, and even in the dark of the night, he could see the golden strands. He reached out to smooth her brow. Heat radiated outward from her sleeping form, the fever that produced it still raging within her. It had been a se'nnight since they had returned to Duncreag. Seven long days and nights. Iain leaned against the side of the bed, bracing his elbows on the mattress, his hands threaded into his hair. Katherine was locked in a battle for her life, and there was nothing here to help her, nothing in this world.

  A moan from Katherine brought him to his feet. They were beginning again, the nightmares. He sat on the edge of the bed, taking her hand in his, worry creasing his brow. Katherine's arm shot out of the covers, reaching above her head, frantically grasping for something. Her cries grew in intensity, almost becoming screams. Her eyes opened wide, an unseen terror mirrored in their gray depths. He pulled her into his arms, trying to calm her spastic motions.

  "I'm here, my love. You're safe. Nothing can harm you." He pulled her back against him, stroking her hair and repeating his reassurances until she calmed and was still again. He held her a moment longer, inhaling the sweet smell of her. Then, reluctantly, he let her go, settling her back onto the pillows, resuming his place at the side of her bed.

  Two different dreams tormented her. They had
come both day and night without fail since her rescue, one or the other, sometimes both in quick succession. This one was the easiest to deal with. He was fairly sure of its source. The captive guardsmen had told of Katherine's attempt to escape and her brush with death on the crumbling battlements of the ruin. The ordeal would have scarred anyone, but for someone with an acute fear of falling it would have no doubt been even more horrifying. It was certainly no surprise that it haunted her dreams. At least during these dreams Katherine would let him hold her until it passed. Together, Iain believed, they could conquer it.

  Iain drew a deep breath, pain filling his heart. It was the other dream that frightened him. He wished that, just for a moment, he could find his way into her head and see what she saw. Then perhaps he would know how to vanquish her fears. That it was Alasdair from whom she shrank night after night he had no doubt. But his mind ran rampant with thoughts of what it was she was remembering when she screamed for him to let her go. And unlike the other dream, he could not reach her. If he touched her at all, she shrank away, her terror-filled eyes looking at him but seeing something else. He was a man of action with nothing to do. How could he protect her against demons that lived inside her head?

  He reached out to stroke the soft curve of her face and felt the smooth contour of her cheek. Never had he felt so helpless. So alone. During the day others came to sit with her, to be with her, to be with him. Jeff, William, Ailis, and Ranald all came. Even Fergus roused himself from his grief over Sorcha's death to sit with Katherine. But no matter what words of encouragement they offered, Iain still felt afraid, unable to help the person he loved most in the world.