Highland Games Through Time

by Nancy Lee Badger

  “I would give my life for her.”

  “I accept.”

  Cameron dropped to a warrior’s crouch. His dirk sprung into his hand, and a roar rang from his throat. The sorcerer stood so close he could smell the man’s sweat. Smoke swirled around the hem of his black cloak, and his eyes blazed like torch flames.

  When the foul-scented air choked him, Cameron lunged for the hazy figure and stumbled through thin air.

  “Dragon’s teeth! A ghost?”

  “Nay, fool. Magic. Where be my amulet?” The voice rang from the center of a foggy mist. The fetid smoky cloud grew in size, encompassing him within a heartbeat. A transparent face appeared, its eyes like flame.

  Cameron slapped a hand over his chest to hide the borrowed amulet. The sorcerer’s gaze followed his motion as planned. What they had not planned was for the bastard to appear from thin air on the top floor of the tower within arm’s reach of one warrior. If he let go of the amulet, they no longer had the bait needed to trap Lady Haven’s abductor.

  Cameron waved his dirk at the mist-enshrouded figure, but met nothing but air. When he inhaled the odorous brew of black magic, Cameron’s last breath squeezed his lungs. His vision faded. His last conscious thought was to keep his fist wrapped around the necklace. The sorcerer’s surprised look morphed into a victorious grin, and Cameron’s body went numb. His dirk hit the stone floor as he slipped into the dark void.

  * * *

  “Cameron?” Iona tread the last few steps to the top of the stairs. A servant told her Cameron had gone up to the open battlement by way of the narrow, steep stairs. At the top of the tower a blast of cold air stole her breath, but an acrid odor tainted the air. Turning, she looked upon the expanse of the magnificent view of the ocean to the east.

  The roar of crashing waves on the rocks below made her shudder. How easy it would be to end a painful existence by jumping.

  “Don’t think like that. Cameron would never…” Where was he? Moonlight mocked her, showering the stone with romantic beams. One sliver of light glittered off metal. Iona bent and picked up a short sword.

  “Cameron’s dirk!” She recognized the decorated hilt of carved bone. He would never have left it behind willingly.

  Iona leaned through the cut-out in the upper part of the parapet’s wall at the same time footsteps echoed on the stair.

  “Doona jump!” Kirk rushed to her side, grabbed her around the waist, and pulled her from the wall’s opening.

  “I’m not going to. I think Cameron did!” She broke loose from his grasp and ran back to the wall. “I can’t see anything. It’s too dark.”

  “Cameron? Jump? Never.”

  “He would never leave his weapon, either!” She shoved the dirk toward Kirk’s chest.

  His fist fell to his dirk at his side.

  “I’m not your enemy. Look!”

  Kirk finally stared at the weapon in her hand. When he recognized it as the one returned to Cameron when they agreed to a truce, he leaned over and scanned the rocks below.

  “Nay, he would never take the easy way out.” Kirk sniffed the air. “Do ye smell it?”

  Iona closed her eyes and inhaled. Cameron’s familiar scent filled her. Her heartbeat raced and heat dampened the sensitive area between her thighs. The delicious aroma of leather and musk was suddenly overpowering, pushing away the previous distasteful smells.

  “ ‘Tis clearer over here. The odor of black magic.”

  Iona snapped to attention. The sorcerer? “Oh no! The sorcerer took Cameron?”

  Kirk paced the dust-covered stones. “I see no footprints other than Robeson’s, though his magic might not leave footprints. ‘Tis nothing here except the weapon left behind.”

  “Why would he take Cameron?”

  “Unknown to the sorcerer Cameron wears the false amulet, and Cameron will do anything for Lady Haven.” Kirk growled curses she couldn’t decipher as he strode away.

  Having met the sorcerer, Iona imagined horrible things. Cameron was missing, and weaponless. Why hadn’t he simply given him the pendant? She knew why. “The necklace was all we had to tempt the guy.”

  “Truth is the truth. Cammie is heroic to a fault. He knew the cost.” Dorcas said, suddenly appearing at her side. The woman’s smile cracked and a tear slid down her cheek. It glistened under the moonlight, and surprised Iona.

  “Yes, he’ll do anything for…Haven.”

  “Open yer eyes, lass. He will save the lady as a favor to ye,” Dorcas whispered. She shivered, and wrapped her shawl tightly around her scrawny shoulders. When Dorcas headed for the stairs, Iona cupped her elbow and helped her down the dark staircase.

  “What are you talking about? Cameron is in danger,” she said, and stroked the amulet nestled between her breasts, “and Haven is still missing. We need to get everyone together and make a new plan.”

  “Aye, lass. Time is fleeting.”

  * * *

  “Cameron! Wake up!” a voice demanded in a hushed, fear-filled voice, yet Cameron rolled farther away. He was on his side on a hay-strewn dirt floor, and his face slammed into a damp stone wall. A deep throb reverberated across his skull as thunder boomed behind his eyes. When he tried to answer, a constant ache ran along his jaw. Raw discomfort shot through his pain wracked body.

  The voice commanding him to awaken irritated him, yet it was oddly familiar. The urgency in her voice spurred him to roll away from the wall, lift his head, and open his eyes.

  “Lady Haven? What the Devil?”

  “Fancy meeting you, here,” she said, her tight-lipped response denoting her fear.

  “Be ye well?” He brushed the straw from his clothes, then clamped his hand to his chest, where the amulet should be. The false one used as bait was gone, but the real one was safe with Iona.

  “I’m okay. Can you get these off me?” She raised her bound hands.

  Cameron untied her while he listened for their enemy’s footfalls.

  “Cameron, why are you here?”

  “The sorcerer and I had a brief meeting at Castle Ruadh.” Cameron looked away. The rashness of his actions had given the blackheart the means to relieve him of his weapon, and to send him here.

  Wherever here is.

  “He is a powerful creep to have captured you. What do we do now?” She paced what he noticed was a small cell. Iron bars made the room a tightly secured prison. He jiggled the bars several times, then looked at the ceiling. Its conical shape proved that they were in a tower, and the air drifting in from a window set high above his head smelled sweetly of the tang of the sea.

  “I pray we are near Castle Ruadh, but the Devil in the black cloak could have taken us anywhere. Or, anytime.” He did not want to believe the bastard had taken him far from Iona. The thought brought him up short.

  He turned to Lady Haven. She stood against the wall with her fists planted on her shapely hips. Her pale green eyes widened as he looked her over, but she no longer feared him. She had never loved him. Her black hair was in disarray and concern hit him square in the chest.

  ‘Tis concern, not lust. I no longer desire her.

  “Has he hurt ye?”

  “The sorcerer? No, but he might. I was hoping you guys were working on a plan to get me out of here.”

  “Aye, we were to lay a trap, but his appearance took me by surprise. My thoughts were…”

  “Were where?”

  “Elsewhere.” He bit his lower lip and held back several curses.

  Her brow quirked, and she smiled up at him. She was tiny, compared to Iona. Both women sported lush, curvy figures but Iona was tall with flaming red hair and emerald-green eyes that looked straight into his soul. How had he thought what he felt for Lady Haven was love?

  “What, or should I say who were you thinking about?”

  He exhaled a long, deep breath. Both women were astute. Who was he to hide his feelings? Should anything happen to him, Iona would never know how much he had come to feel for the lass.

  “Iona has become
dear to me. Shall we leave it at that?”

  “You and Iona? When did this happen?”

  “When you dinna return to the games, Dorcas hired me to accompany Iona back to the past.”

  “You met her in the future?”

  “Aye, at the New England Highland Games. She was verra worried about ye.”

  “I can take care of myself.”

  When he glanced around at their cell, he laughed. She joined in, and the relief eased his mind.

  “Yes, I am in a pickle, and Iona has sent a handsome warrior to help me. How do you plan to get us out, Houdini?”

  Her words were as strange as Iona’s. An image of Iona’s smile, the memory of her wit, the taste of her charms sent his mind reeling, but the task at hand bit through the momentary desire for the woman.

  “Iona spoke a spell and I rubbed the sacred amulet Dorcas lent me. Dorcas is a powerful witch, like ye and Iona.”

  “Iona is powerful, but she doesn’t know her own strength. Do you have the amulet? The creep in the black robe keeps insisting I hid it somewhere.”

  “Nay, ‘tis somewhere safe.”

  “He lies.”

  Cameron and Haven glanced at the doorway. The black-hooded magician stood glaring at them. Hatred burned in his red eyes as he gripped his staff. Cameron had witnessed the power of the staff and how Iona had felt its power.

  “Cameron, unlike you, is an honorable man.”

  “Ha! He be nothing but a traitor. His own cousin banished him from their clan. He lied to Kirk, and he lies to ye.”

  Haven glanced at Cameron briefly, a slight nod her only indication she knew everything about his treachery and trial. When her mouth opened wide and shock colored her skin as pale as spilt cream he figured she sensed his next move.

  “Cameron. No!”

  A sudden need to retch spurred him to the task at hand. Faster than he had ever reacted in battle, he lunged at the sorcerer and ripped the amulet from around his neck. With a quick flip of his wrist, he tossed it to Haven.

  “Take this and go!”

  “My amulet!”

  Cameron crashed into the cloaked man. The dreaded staff clattered to the floor and rolled beneath the bed of straw. The mighty sorcerer gasped then whimpered like a puppy denied his favorite toy. “Escape while ye can! Return to Kirk!”

  “I thought you wanted me.”

  When Haven stepped closer he shoved the sorcerer toward the wall. A thud gave him seconds to talk some sense into the woman who still stood beside him, her brows raised in question.

  “I was mistaken. I was spellbound.” When her cheeks reddened, he read the truth on her face. Iona had mentioned Haven had dabbled with a love potion. The spell had dissipated and he needed no such potion to follow his heart. “I love only Iona Mackenzie. Escape and tell her this.”

  “What? No! You come with me.”

  “Nay! No one leaves.” The sorcerer jumped to his feet, shrieking. Cameron turned as a small dagger appeared in the man’s hand. When it sailed toward them, Cameron shoved Haven out of the way. The thud, and a jolt of pain, made him glance downward. The dagger’s hilt protruded from his abdomen. Blood gushed, streaming down toward the floor.

  “Cameron!” she rushed toward him, and he grabbed her close. The sorcerer, laughing, resumed his search for his staff.

  “Ye must escape now, lass,” he whispered.

  “I can’t leave you here!”

  “Aye, ye can. Take the amulet and leave him to me.” He grabbed her arms and pulled her close, then whispered in her ear. “He must follow ye. He will since he does not realize it be a false stone. Dorcas and Skye created a spell as part of the rescue plan since the amulet will not help ye. Say these words…Thunder, lightning, clouds and sea, to Castle Ruadh let me flee, hear my plea, so—”

  “I know the rest,” Haven said, then nodded. The sorcerer was on his knees, and slid his hands right and left as he searched for his staff.

  Cameron cupped her chin and brushed a parting kiss on her lips. “Tell Iona my true feelings. I might never get the chance.”

  Haven’s eyes widened and she glared from her blood-soaked gown to the figure skittering across the floor like an oversized spider.

  “I will,” Haven said, then closed her eyes and mumbled the words he’d whispered.

  Thunder, lightning, clouds and sea

  To Castle Ruadh let me flee

  Hear my plea, so mote it be.

  “Nay!” screamed the sorcerer as he rose to his feet. Covered in dirt and damp straw, he held his staff out from his body, then mumbled words Cameron could not discern.

  The intent was clear.

  CHAPTER 25

  Thick fog and gray smoke bubbled outward. Cameron held his position as Haven ran toward the cell door. Brilliant beams of light flew from the staff, but Haven sidestepped the attack and ran through the open door. She disappeared in a poof of sweet-smelling mist. The sorcerer’s staff went silent and dark, and Cameron relaxed.

  “Be afraid, warrior. ‘Tis not the end of my revenge against the Gunn clan. I will acquire the amulet even if I have to slit the throat of that pretty bit of muslin. Better yet, I shall take the red-haired vixen to my bed.”

  Cameron’s lifeblood streamed from his body, but he found the strength to approach the sorcerer. The man snickered at his distress and pulled the dagger from Cameron after he had staggered within reach. Seared by a pain meant to crush him, he willed his fist to jerk back. Fueled by rage, the last breath in his body blew out and his muscles contracted as he sent his fist soaring.

  When bones crunched on bone, he smiled, then collapsed. His last thought was the image of a sweet-smelling, red-haired virgin as she moaned beneath him, and who had given him everything to live for.

  * * *

  Bright light grew in intensity and blinded Iona. A familiar sound filled her ears. A woman was crying. When she smelled the blood, she opened her eyes and beheld a gory scene.

  “Haven? Is it you?” Iona rushed over to her friend, then took in the state of the dress she wore, covered in blood. One hand rested on an amulet she’d last seen around Cameron’s neck.

  As if sensing her silent question, Haven’s tears fell in abundance. Iona couldn’t catch her breath and a faraway keening sound filled the small space of Haven’s bedroom.

  It was her own scream.

  “What goes on, here?” Marcus asked as he barreled into the room. The look on Iona’s face must have broadcast the horror she felt, for it stopped him in his tracks. When his attention snapped to the blood-covered Haven, he barked several orders to the man behind him.

  “Bring the healer and Dorcas. Skye Gunn, as well. Lady Haven, sit on the bed and they will tend to your wounds.”

  He stepped toward Iona’s friend to help her, but Haven indicated he should stay back. “I am not hurt. ‘Tis not my blood.”

  Iona’s tears dampened her cheeks, and she had to step away. Away from the blood she feared was Cameron’s.

  Her back met the wall just as the women arrived on the heels of the village healer. Marcus left the room and she assumed he went in search of Kirk, to unite him with Haven. Kirk and her friend had found happiness once more, but she would never see Cameron.

  “He’s dead, isn’t he?”

  Skye, Dorcas, and the healer paused. They had removed Haven’s outer clothes only to find no wounds. Gazes flickered back and forth between Haven and Iona, but no one spoke. Haven inhaled a deep breath, and Iona willed herself to remain conscious.

  “The sorcerer wounded him. Cameron sent me back with this.” She pulled the fake necklace up and over her head and tossed it on the bed. “I hope it was worth it.”

  Iona collapsed to the floor. A powerful vision squeezed her lungs and chilled her blood. She saw Cameron as clear as if he was in the same room. He lay deathly still on a straw-covered floor. Blood coated his once-white shirt and wool plaid kilt.

  Was he breathing? Or, was he already dead? Her powers were too weak. She’d refused to train her
mind to use the visions and so she had no recourse but to catch her breath and talk to her friend. She pushed to her feet, then walked close to where Haven sat.

  “Tell us what happened,” Iona cried.

  “The sorcerer captured Cameron, which I immediately questioned because…come on. The guy’s a trained Highland warrior.”

  “You spoke to him? Did he explain?”

  “He said his mind was otherwise engaged.” Haven stood and embraced Iona.

  “What are you saying? The cloaked bastard caught him unaware? What could possibly distract him during an emergency?”

  “You.”

  The village healer excused himself and strode off to look for Marcus and Kirk. Skye crossed her hands behind her back and quirked a small smile. Dorcas cackled, and the shock drove Iona forward.

  “Why are you laughing when Cameron could be dying or dead already?”

  “All is not lost. This I have foreseen.”

  Iona prayed Dorcas was right.

  “Iona, he told me to pass along a message.” Haven grabbed her wrist and pulled her down with her onto the side of the bed.

  “I don’t care what he said or who he said them to. We have to get him. We have to save him!” Iona tugged, but Haven held her wrist tightly. Dorcas shuffled over and laid a hand on her shoulder.

  “We will, lass. Ye leave Cammie to me and Skye. ‘Tis no easy task to travel without me amulet, but—”

  “Here. Cameron gave this to me.” Iona plucked the real amulet from her neck and shoved it into Dorcas’ weathered hand.

  Dorcas laughed louder, grabbed Skye’s skirt, and mumbled a few words. In the blink of an eye, they were gone.

  “What are they doing? The sorcerer will kill them,” Haven said.

  “I have a feeling the sorcerer is the one in danger. Dorcas strikes me as a powerful witch, and Skye is coming into her powers quickly. If Cameron can be saved, they are the ones to do it.”

  Kirk raced into the room. Haven cried out his name, let go of Iona, and jumped from the bed into his outstretched arms.