“You lie. You have lied since your arrival here,” Wilona spat.
“Wilona,” Nial snapped and the woman looked contrite.
At least Hannah now knew she was still on MacKewan soil. “He prays on the weak and the vulnerable.”
“I am neither,” Wilona defended. “I am strong, having put up with Potsman for as long as I have. Nial and I found each other by accident. I did not know who he was until after we secretly met a few times.”
“By then you knew you loved him and would do anything to be with him,” Hannah said, “which was exactly what he intended.” She turned to Nial, having realized some time ago that he liked to show how superior he was to others. “What did you do, Nial, watch from the woods and pick the woman you knew would be the most vulnerable, the easiest to accept your lies?”
“Please, Hannah, you are talking about my beloved,” Nial said, walking over to Wilona and slipping his arm around her waist. “Wilona has kept me abreast of how negligent Slain has been in protecting his clan. How the Chief of Clan MacKewan barely leaves the keep. How there are no warriors to defend them. I gave her my word that with me as chief she had nothing to fear.”
“Except constant lies,” Hannah said, understanding now why Slain had kept all but the most trustworthy in his clan ignorant of his plans.
“It is you who lies,” Wilona accused, shaking a finger at her. “You hate him and have told nothing but lies about him.”
Hannah feared she would not be able to open Wilona’s eyes to Nial’s true deceitful nature before it was too late. The only thing was to continue delaying their departure and pray that Slain would arrive shortly.
“Open your eyes, Wilona. Nial cares for no one but himself and he lies to suit his purpose.”
“Not true,” Wilona said. “He hated that I had to stay with Potsman and make it seem like I loved the fool so that no one would know I gathered information for him. He promised me over and over when this was done that I would have to worry no more.”
“Of course you will have no worries, you will be dead,” Hannah said, hoping the woman might come to her senses and see the truth.
“Enough of this nonsense,” Nial ordered.
“You mean enough of the truth, something you avoid at all times,” Hannah said and looked to Wilona. “Have you not heard what he has said? He lies endlessly. It was his doing that saw me shackled and dumped into a cart one night with the sole purpose of seeing me dead, though not before I was made to suffer. And he paid good coin to see it done.”
“Then why are you not dead?” Wilona asked.
The smile on the woman’s face made it clear that she believed she had caught Hannah in a lie, but it was the smirk on Nial’s face that angered her the most. It was obvious he believed he was victorious yet again.
“I was fortunate that someone helped me escape and that I learned what true evil was. I fear you will not be so lucky, for you are blind to evil.”
“I am not blind, but I was a fool for thinking Potsman would make me a good husband and that Clan MacKewan would be a good home. I hate Potsman, and I mourn the time lost I could have spent with Nial.”
It struck Hannah then. “How long have you—”
“I met my beloved Wilona,” —Nial kissed her cheek— “when I came to speak with Slain’s father and fell in love with her at first sight. She worked in the keep while her useless husband did nothing but drink himself senseless.”
Hannah glared at him. “You saw her vulnerability and made sure to use her in case you needed her one day.”
“I offered my help,” Wilona argued. “Nial did not force me to do anything.”
“Of course, Nial never forces anyone,” Hannah said, seeing his grin broaden. “He makes them believe they submit to him freely.”
“You are wrong,” Wilona said her chin going up with the confidence of her words.
“I truly wish I was, Wilona, for I think you are a good woman and I believed you a friend, and I do not want to see you die.”
“You will not see her die,” Nial said.
Wilona turned a smug smile on Hannah.
“She will linger long enough to let Slain know that I have you and where he is to meet me and surrender.”
Hannah watched in horror as Wilona’s eyes bulged in fright and she tried to break free of Nial’s arm that had captured both of hers as it tightened around her.
He pressed his cheek against hers and his dagger to her stomach. “Stay still, my beloved. It will hurt less if you remain still.”
“Please, I helped you,” Wilona begged, tears gathering in her eyes.
“That you did. You served me well, my beloved, but I have no further use of you. Tell Slain that I have his wife and if he wants to see that she remains alive, he is to surrender to me in the northeast field that borders our land. Tell him not to keep me waiting or I will entertain myself with my sister.”
The sheer horror and helplessness in Wilona’s eyes had Hannah scrambling to her feet to try to help her.
“Stay where you are, Hannah, or I will stab her more than once and make her suffer even more,” Nial ordered.
Wilona’s eyes turned wider in fright, though Hannah did not know if it was because the woman wanted her to stay where she was or take a chance and help her.
Nial pressed a kiss to Wilona’s cheek. “You do not want to suffer more, do you my beloved?”
Wilona shook her head, tears running down her cheeks.
Hannah cringed and tears rushed to her eyes, her heart breaking for Wilona as Nial began to slide the dagger slowly into her.
Chapter 34
As soon as Slain saw the body lying on the ground, he ran, his heart pounding furiously against his chest. Please do not let it be Hannah. Please I beg of you.
He dropped down beside the lifeless body relieved to see it was not his wife laying there so pale in death. He had not wished death upon Wilona for what she had done, though he had seen no other way for her with Nial. He had no doubt Nial would dispose of her when he was done with her, and he had.
Wilona’s eyes suddenly shot open.
“She is not dead?” Imus asked nearly breathless, looking down at the woman as he tried to calm his breathing, having run twice as hard as Slain to keep pace with him, and failing.
Slain did not answer. He brought his face closer to Wilona’s pale one. “Where is my wife?”
Wilona struggled to speak. “Field… north,” —she fought for a breath— “east… border.” She gasped, her breath nearly gone, but still trying desperately to live. “Forgive… m—”
“That will be for Hannah to say,” Slain said, though Wilona had taken her last breath.
“I will see that she is returned home,” Imus said as Slain stood.
Slain’s eyes were heavy with anger as he said, “Time for battle.”
All Hannah had to do was be patient and wait for her husband to come for her or so she told herself as she rode in front of Nial on his horse.
“Your husband will come for you and I will destroy him,” Nial said.
He had taken great pleasure in telling her what he intended to do to her husband. How he would use her to anger him, bring out the savage, and see the beast destroyed. He would use her as he used Wilona and all the other women that came before them. Time and time again women had served Nial. She did not intend to be one of them.
“You have tempted me since I first laid eyes on you, but I restrained myself, knowing one day it would serve a greater good. And patience has served me well, since now I will relish the look on your husband’s face before he dies, when he learns I had the pleasure of enjoying his wife.”
Hannah kept herself from gagging at the thought. This was no time to give into any weakness. She had to stay strong and find a way to escape him, find a way back to her husband before Nial’s madness destroyed the happiness she had finally found.
“Nothing to say, dear sister?” he asked with a laugh.
Hannah tried biting her tongue to
keep from striking out at him with it. After looking at the trail they traveled, she thought better of it. They rode along the edge of a hill. It could be her chance to escape him, to make sure Nial could not use her against Slain.
“You have to lie to have a woman couple with you or you lie to yourself to see it done, if it ever is,” she said.
Nial laughed. “You try and bait me. It will not work.”
“Perhaps, but I do not feel you rise to the occasion, so I would think I speak more the truth than you,” she said and turned her head to grin at him. The spark of anger in his eyes told her she had hit her mark.
Nial glared at her.
Hannah wasted no time, since she feared she had little of it. She rubbed her bottom against his groin. “Still nothing.”
Nial’s temper flared.
Hannah realized then that Nial needed a woman who was subservient to him. A woman who showed strength deflated him, and she charged forward. “All is not lost, after all, you are a consummate liar and no doubt have convinced many women that you have pleased them, since they would not know any better.”
That did what Hannah had hoped. Nial raised his hand and delivered such a stinging blow to her face that it knocked her off the horse. Though stunned, once on the ground she rolled quickly to the edge of the hill and keeping her arms tucked around her face and her legs crossed, she rolled down the hill.
It seemed like forever that she kept rolling when suddenly she found herself swept up by rushing waters. With her wrists tied, she fought to keep herself above water. It was not long before her arm began to ache and she knew what would follow. She would lose strength in it and once she did, she was finished. She fought as much as she could to survive, to keep herself above water.
She thought of Slain and how much she loved him, how much she had looked forward to a long life with him, to having his bairns, to waking up in each other’s arms when they were withered with age. The thought made her fight harder and she saw that the shoreline was not far to her right. If she could only get to it before her arm lost all strength.
She let herself go under and kicked and fought as hard as she could to get to shore and when she broke the surface once more, she saw that she was a short distance from it. She could make it. She had to. She had to get home to Slain. She had to get home to the man she loved with all her heart and then some.
Hannah fought with all her might and she was not far from shore, sure she would make it when her arm lost all strength and she went under.
With a sharp jerk, she was pulled out of the water and was relieved for a moment when she saw it was not Nial, until she realized the warrior who had dragged her to shore was wearing the Clan MacFillan plaid.
Slain sat his stallion, not as the Chief of the Clan MacKewan, but as the savage. He was ready to ride and kill any and all who stood in his way of rescuing his wife. He approached the field Nial had designated as their meeting place, alone, though spread out behind him a group of men from the Clan MacKewan sat atop their horses. A distance away, Nial sat atop his horse, his troop spread out behind him, an impressive sight, though nothing that worried Slain. He knew well the extent of the Clan MacFillan warriors and they were no match for his. He was sure he would defeat Nial. It was his wife’s safety that concerned him and that would make him do whatever was necessary to see her safe.
It troubled him that he did not see Hannah anywhere and he would do nothing until he saw that she was unharmed. And if by chance Nial had foolishly done something to her, he would make certain to use every torture device on him before Slain did to him what he had done to Conlan, Melvin, and Wilona.
Slain rode forward as did Nial and they met somewhere in the middle of the field, Slain thinking him a fool for the way he approached with such bravado and confidence. He foolishly thought that victory was already his.
Nial did not give Slain a chance to speak, he spoke up as soon as they brought their horses to a halt near each other. “Surrender now and save yourself the embarrassment of defeat.”
“Where is my wife?” Slain demanded.
“You will see her once you surrender to me,” Nial said.
“I will see her first.”
Nial laughed. “You think to defeat me with that paltry troop?” He nodded to the small group of men behind Slain.
“My wife,” Slain said, his eyes remaining steadfast on Nial.
“Surrender and she is yours.”
Slain’s dark eyes narrowed. “I have no time for play. You will bring my wife to me.”
Nial leaned forward on his horse. “You are defeated. You can demand nothing. Surrender and be done with it. You are as foolish as your father.”
Slain glared at him. “And you are more the fool for believing that.” He raised his arm and gave a snap of his hand. Out of the woods that bordered the field where a few of Slain’s men stood, rode a contingent of warriors that fanned out on both sides until they were nearly on top of Nial’s men. Stepping out between the warriors on horses was a contingent of archers who took up a stance, raising their bows with arrows pointed at Nial’s men. And what followed caused even the bravest warriors to shiver, since Warrick’s warriors, draped in black shrouds, made their way past them all led by Roark. There was not a warrior there who did not fear them.
“My wife,” Slain said, “and this is the last time I will ask you.”
Fury had Nial’s nostrils flaring and his temper near to exploding. How had he not known this? How had Slain kept his army of warriors a secret? There was no way he could defeat such a mighty force and defeat held a bitter taste. One he would not easily accept. “You will give me your word that you will let me live?” he asked with an air of demand.
“You have no room to bargain.” Slain grew concerned, seeing how the man’s eyes darted about and how sweat broke out heavily across his brow. “Bring Hannah to me now.”
“As you say,” Nial said with a sharp nod. “I will go fetch her.”
“Delay in bringing her to me and I will turn you over to Warrick’s man and see done to you what you intended for Hannah.”
Nial glared as he gave a nod, then turned and rode off.
Slain watched as Nial’s men parted for him and he was relieved they remained that way, for he did not trust Nial. If the warriors had closed rank behind Nial, he would have ridden straight at them, brandishing his sword, ready to kill anyone who stood in his way of getting to his wife.
There was a flourish of activity where Nial had stopped and then he once again rode past his parted warriors, though slowly this time.
Hannah struggled against the pain in her arm made worse with her wrists being shackled with rope that Nial held while she was forced to walk behind his horse. Her body had been plagued with shivers since having been pulled out of the cold stream. She fought to take step after step.
“He has come for you,” Nial said, catching her attention. “He has brought warriors, far too many for me to see victory against.”
Hannah’s heart filled with joy at the news. Slain was here. Soon she would be safe. She bit back a response, wanting to remind him that she had warned him he would see no victory against Slain, but thought better of it. He still held her captive and anything could happen with him holding the end of the rope that bound her wrists.
“He will not let me live,” Nial said.
Hannah wondered if he spoke more to himself than he did to her and it disturbed her, for Nial was not a man to accept defeat easily.
“Your husband planned well, hiding his army of warriors, living as if he only had those present in his clan to defend his land. But then many believed Warrick would be there to help him if needed. It was why your father offered you in marriage to Warrick. Though if the powerful warrior was not interested in such an arrangement, your father was willing to give you to him regardless, so that he could garnish favor with him.”
The shock of his words had Hannah stumbling.
“I could not have that. It would mean Warrick might someday l
ay claim to the Clan MacFillan. But I did think it fitting that you should suffer and die at the very place your father had intended to send you.”
Nial’s deception knew no bounds. He truly was an evil man.
“I never counted on your strength,” Nial said with an angry snarl.
Hannah grew fearful that Nial had no intentions of handing her over to her husband. He manipulated and caused suffering in everything that he did and she had no doubt he would do the same in facing defeat. He would make others suffer for his failure.
Nail fastened the rope connected to her shackles to the saddle as he spoke. “Your husband thinks he has won, but I will not suffer defeat or death without seeing my enemy suffer greatly before I die.”
Hannah’s own anger rose up, sending a shot of heat through her and chasing her chill if only for a moment. She had not survived thus far only to die in the end. She did not know what Nial had planned, but she would do whatever was necessary to stay alive.
“You are quiet. You know your time is near with your husband so close. How bittersweet that must be for you. Not far from you… but too far too save you.”
Hannah kept silent. All too aware that her words would do little to improve her situation or save her. Nial was determined to have his way, but so was she.
Slain watched Nial approach with an apprehensive awareness. Something was not right, he could feel it. Nial was a madman and madmen never surrendered.
He was proven right when Nial stopped well before reaching him.
“If you want your wife, come get her,” Nial shouted and raised the end of a rope he had fastened around his waist to make it seem that he held the rope holding Hannah prisoner. Then he gave a kick to the side of his horse. The animal took off, jerking Hannah off her feet to be dragged along the ground.
Slain stared in complete disbelief as he saw his wife being dragged behind Nial’s horse. He responded instinctively and with a fierce rage and dreaded fear he had never felt before, spurring his horse after Nial. Slain rode as if the devil was on his trail and suffered every bump he saw his wife suffer. He could not imagine the pain and fear she was going through, though it would be nothing to what he would make Nial suffer.
Embraced by a Highlander Page 29
