“Aye. Word has it that they passed through here several days ago heading to Dumfries. But it is no’ just the Englishmen ye seek. The clan Stewart has joined them.”
“Stewart?” Rory thought about the name for a moment then realized that Stewart was the name Annella mentioned that her father was forcing her to marry. Rory walked with him around the gardens that surrounded the monastery retelling him all that had happened. “We ask to stay the night then must make our way when dawn breaks.”
“Aye, of course. There are no’ rooms for all of ye but plenty of dry hay in the stables to make enough pallets for the lot of ye.”
“Thank ye. That will suffice.”
“I hope ye dinna plan on doing anything foolish, lad. These be dangerous men.”
“I ken. But I have to go.”
Mercifully, he looked up at Rory with his grey eyes and smiled. “Ye just remember this; ye will face the darkness before ye are shown the light.”
Rory nodded his acknowledgement towards the old man and walked back to the stables. He found his horse and pulled out dry trews and a fresh leine shirt from his satchel to change out of his wet clothes. Taking out his plaid he laid it down upon the dry hay to rest his sore muscles. Each time he closed his eyes, he saw Annella; her reddish brown hair and her remarkable large, round eyes. He knew rescuing Annella not going to be an easy task but she was worth it, in every way.
Sneaking into Dumfries when the English had already seized the castle was going to make this much more difficult. He would have to slip into the village undetected and keep his identity concealed to find out exactly which side the Laird of Dumfries was on; whether he is a traitor to his country or if he too is being held captive. Dumfries was a large trading community. Several people would be coming and going so he knew that getting in wouldn’t be a challenge. It would be getting out.
Rory prayed for Annella’s safety and that no harm has come to her. He would not let Laird Stewart live if he had harmed Annella in any way.
With battle on the horizon, he realized he had a new reason to fight, a purpose. Over the past few days, Annella had become his flame in the darkness. He missed how her smile could brighten even the darkest of days. After meeting her, he had never felt so alone. But he was, because he realized that what was missing in his life was her.
Chapter 7
Annella and Caitlin both turned their heads toward the door when they heard the sounds of multiple footsteps coming up the tower stairs.
“I am so sorry, my lady,” Caitlin said as she held her hand.
Crashing the door open, Laird Stewart and the English priest entered the room.
“Nay, nay,” Annella pleaded.
“Leave us,” Stewart barked his order to Caitlin.
Caitlin gave Annella a sad look and hurried out the door.
“Lady Annella MacCallum of Dunstan, ye have been charged of treason for harboring known enemies of King Edward and your refusal to give your oath to England. Your punishment is death by way of the gallows. Prior to your hanging, we have agreed to your marriage to Laird Stewart so that he may rightfully inherit both your lands and your castle upon your death as agreed in the contract he possesses,” the English priest said in a cold and heartless tone.
Stewart walked over to the bed and held Annella down while the priest mumbled in Latin in which Annella did not understand. She had assumed that he was either giving her last rites or reciting the vows of marriage. With all her strength, she struggled to get off the bed but Stewart kept her down with the strength of his arms.
“Do you Lady Annella take his man as your wedded husband?”
“Nay, ne’er,” she screamed and fought Stewart on the bed while he was beginning to remove his trews.
Stewart covered her mouth with his hand and bellowed out, “Aye she does and so do I, get on wit it.”
“Then I pronounce you husband and wife.”
Stewart leaned down on Annella and kissed her hard. Crying, she continued to buck underneath him. The priest stood watch to witness the consummation.
“Nay ye may no’ have me, ye will ne’er have me,” Annella shouted and with her hand, she dug her fingernails into the side of Stewart’s face drawing blood.
“Ye bitch.” Stewart said and with as much force as he could muster slapped Annella unconscious.
The next morning Rory and Ewan looked down upon the village of Dumfries. Nothing had appeared out of the ordinary. Rory saw merchants and traders busy hustling their goods and several villagers walking about. This was a good sign. Any sign of panic or threat would cause his plan to fail and he would not let it falter.
After a few moments of observing, the men rode their horses into the village below to uncover as much information they could about the occupying English. Rory and his men walked through the busy streets until he had seen an inn at the end of the road. He knew that would be their best bet. Drunken men often had loose tongues. Rory and a few of his men entered the inn while the others went to take the horses to the stables. They entered the inn and found a small round table near the back, waiting and listening.
Not long after they arrived a plump and fleshy woman came up to them. “Get ye fine men a drink?”
“Aye, whiskey,” Ewan said back to her. Leaning over to Rory, he whispered, “Looks like nothing but Scots here. Do ye think we got here too late?”
“Nay. They are here, somewhere,” Rory replied scanning the room.
The barmaid quickly came back with three mugs of whiskey. She leaned over to set them on the table, exposing her busty cleavage. With a smirk on his face, Rory asked, “What do ye ken of the English that came through here, my lady?”
“Seeking out the English are ye, my fine handsome mon? That will only get ye at the end of a noose around here.”
She gave him a devilish grin and placed her hand on his shoulder. Leaning in she pressed her lips against his ear.
“Rumor has it that now that Laird Maxwell has been away for a fortnight, they have detained Caerlaverock Castle until he returns. He has been charged with treason, they say. A group of riders just passed here three nights ago.”
“Was there a lass wit them?”
“A lass? If ye are looking for a lass, I can help ye with that,” she said and winked her eye.
“Nay thank ye, but I am looking for someone.”
“Mmmph, Nay I dinna see a lass.” She put her hands on her hip and snarled as she walked away.
“What did the wench say?” Ewan questioned.
“She said that the English are occupying Caerlaverock Castle. Laird Maxwell has been away and the English are charging him wit treason. They wait for his arrival. That must be where they took Annella.” He slammed his fist on the table and swallowed back the rest of his whiskey.
Even thinking about Annella being in the hands of the English made the anger inside him fuel with intensity. She has already been in their company for almost a full week and the fear and vengeance inside him was escalating with each passing day. He needed to get to Laird Maxwell’s holding and fast while striking down every Sassenach he passed along the way.
“Sir. I do not mean to disturb you but the guards have caught a man lurking outside of the gates. He’s a Scot and is demanding to see the Englishman who is in charge,” an English guard informed the Earl.
“Is it that bastard Maxwell?”
“No, we do not believe so.”
“Where is the prisoner now?”
“We have detained him in the upper bailey.”
“Is he alone? Did you see anyone else with him?”
“No, Sir. We searched the area and found only him. He claims that he traveled here alone and is seeking out the woman we are holding captive.”
The Earl had known the Scots to be full of treachery and was surprised that only one would dare come alone. He must be an idiot or plain foolish. He sat up from his chair and strapped his sword to his side.
“Does Stewart know of this man? Perhaps he is kin.”
“Stewart is in the great hall, I am unaware if he knows of the situation.”
“I will get him and meet you in the bailey. Bring the girl.”
“Yes sir,” the guard said and walked out of the room and headed towards the tower to retrieve Annella.
Slamming the door against the stone wall, the guard yelled, “Get up.” He pulled onto her arms to try to get her to stand but her knees buckled underneath her and she fell back down to the ground.
“Damn it,” the guard murmured. “The Earl wants to see you, now.” He called out to one of the other guards outside the door to help him drag her out of there.
Annella was unable to speak. With no strength or will to care, she had no choice but to allow the men to grab her from under her arms and haul her out the door. This was it, she thought. Why God did ye no’ take me in my sleep? These men were off to take her to the gallows. She tried to cry out but no sound came out. Tears spilled down her face. She tried so hard to be brave but she had no will left; Stewart had taken everything away from her.
The Earl walked down the passageway to the great hall and spotted Stewart drinking ale with his men.
“Stewart,” the Earl hollered to get his attention. “We have company.”
Laird Stewart set his drink down and stood up. He was uncertain who would have come but he enjoyed a good intrigue. The Earl explained the situation and both men walked out to the bailey together to see the Scot apprehended by the guards. The guards had removed his weapons and tied his hands together in front of him with ropes. He was down on his knees waiting for the Earl to present himself.
“Who are you and what do you want?” The Earl demanded and glared down at Rory.
Rory looked at the two men standing in front of him. The older man he assumed was the Earl of Lancaster and the other man he figured was the traitor Laird Stewart. “I am Laird MacKinnon of Dunakin and who are ye?”
“I am the Earl of Lancaster, personal sheriff of King Edward. I have been sent here to reprimand all those who support the Scottish rebellion against our king. Where do you stand, Scot?”
“My laird, if I may, this is the mon who I saw enter into Dunstan with his men. He follows and fights with Wallace; I am sure of it,” Stewart whispered in his ear. The Earl nodded his head in acknowledgement keeping his blazing eyes on Rory.
“I am no’ here to discuss my loyalty. Where is the lass?” Rory’s nose flared with anger.
“What concern is she to you? She has been wed off to Laird Stewart and has been tried for treason and crimes against our king. She is to be hanged.” The Earl replied.
Married? Rory looked at Stewart. His eyes full of rage. He felt his breath heavily labored and his muscles grew tense. Balling his fists together, he was about to jump up from the ground and kill the man standing before him with that smug look upon his face, until he noticed the two guards from the corner of his eye. They rushed over dragging Annella under her arms and dropped her on the ground before the Earl.
She slowly lifted her head and felt her heart sink deep inside her chest. With a crackled voice, she tried to cry out “nay” as she saw Rory bound up and kneeling on the ground, held up by two guards. She shook her head not wanting to believe that he had been caught. Knowing that he too, would die in the gallows made her heart break. This is all my fault, she told herself. Oh Rory, I am so sorry. She couldn’t speak the words but the sadness in her eyes expressed the remorse and blame she felt.
Fueled with anger, Rory looked down at the dirt in front of him before he fixed his eyes back onto Annella. Her hair was matted. The chemise she wore was torn and exposed much of her bare skin. Her bruised, tear-stained face made her almost unrecognizable. She looked fragile, like nothing remained but skin and bones.
His stomach churned. How could they have beaten this wee lass? What was once a fiery-spirited lass now appeared to be a scared, dying creature. He wanted so badly to cradle her in his arms, to let her know that he was there and would never leave her side again. With sympathy in his eyes he looked at her, letting her sense his compassion; hoping she could draw some amount of strength from him.
The Earl looked between the two of them and said, “Is the whore really worth risking your own life for? Is that why you are here? Do you honestly think you can save her?” The Earl laughed while his men joined in.
Rory did not take his eyes off of her. He said in a grim voice, “Aye. I would die for her.”
Looking back at the Earl and Stewart, he had to hold his anger in. If he lashed out now, his plan would fail and he needed to get Annella out of here first.
“Good. Guards, prepare the gallows…for two,” the Earl sneered and kicked dirt up into Rory’s face.
The guards walked them both onto the wooden platform of the gallows while they began to string up the ropes. With all the commotion in the bailey, the guards walking along the curtain wall of the castle had been distracted watching the scene below.
One of the guards standing by the tower began to retreat to his post when he was speared in the chest with an arrow. Quietly he fell without notice.
One by one the arrows flew up overhead hitting the men on top of the wall with precision. Hooks swung over the great wall and Rory’s men began to climb. Once on top, they swiftly removed the bodies of the fallen men and casted them into the moat below.
Just as expected, Rory looked up and saw Ewan, Angus and Colin just above him with their swords in hand. He nodded and Ewan let out a blaring battle cry. The men jumped down from the wall ready to attack. Unprepared, the Earl’s men scattered to find their weapons. Ewan cut down the guard standing over Rory and cut the bindings from his wrists and gave him his sword.
The sound of metal clashing, blood spilling and cries of pain occupied Rory’s thoughts as he held his ground. Trying not to fall or trip over the dead or wounded, he continued his assault.
Metal to metal, his men fought valiantly. One by one, they slashed Stewart’s men and the English down. Rory looked around and saw many fallen men. Men with blades and arrows protruding out of their chests, ones with severed limbs, and men so young they look to have never seen their eighteenth year.
Covered in blood, dirt and sweat, he called out to Ewan, “Stay here wit the men, I’ll get Annella.”
He came upon the two men guarding Annella. They did not have any weapon on them but a mere eating knife and a small dagger. They attempted to block Rory’s advances but failed miserably as Rory slashed each man. One in the chest and the other in the arm. With rapid speed, he picked Annella up into his arms and hurried towards the gates.
“Rory?” she whimpered.
“Hush now, I’m here. Nay more harm will come to ye.”
With Ewan in front of him clearing his path, they ran back to one of the boats hiding in the brush just as Rory and Ewan had planned. He gently set Annella down quickly, covering her in his plaid as they pushed the boat off into the moat towards dry land where the horses were tied up. He would have stayed and fought. He yearned for nothing more than to take down the Earl and Stewart but his first priority was to get Annella out of harm’s way.
Soon Rory’s men were trailing behind them. As fast as they could before the English caught up to them, they mounted their horses. Rory had set Annella on his horse and jumped up behind her. Lifting her onto his lap, he held her in his arms and raced off.
“My laird, the bastards ran scared,” Angus called out.
“What of the Earl and Stewart?” Rory asked.
“They’re gone too; ran out as soon as we entered the gates.”
“Damn. We’ll get some distance between us in case they grow some balls and come after us,” Ewan said.
“Aye,” Rory replied.
He looked down at Annella. She appeared asleep with her head resting on his chest. Her skin felt feverish. He laid a kiss upon the top of her head and pulled her up closer to him hoping that the bumpy ride was not causing her further pain.
After a half day’s ride, he found an opening in the
trees with a nearby creek and decided to stop and make camp.
“Ewan, get me some water, bandages and salve for Lady Annella,” he said as he slid off the back of his horse with Annella still in his arms. Gently laying her down on his plaid, he turned to her and said, “I need to look at ye, lass. I need to see yer cuts and bruises.”
He unraveled the plaid from around her as best as he could. When he moved her, she moaned out in pain. His heart was breaking watching her in so much agony. He examined her injuries to see if there was anything that he could do but he did not know the trade of a healer. He was scared. Her fever was bad and he was not sure she was even going to make it through the night. The rope burns on her wrists were now blistered and her face and arms were covered in bruises. Ewan came back and handed him a flask of water.
“Drink this,” he said as he held it up to her lips. She was only able to take small sips.
“Here, my laird. Ye can use my plaid as well for the lass,” Angus offered with sympathy.
“Thank ye.”
Rory took the plaid from his hand and wrapped it around Annella. Keeping her in his arms, he planned on holding onto her the entire night if he had to. The men around them kept still and watched as Rory attended to her. They too felt bad for the lass.
“Ewan, I need ye to do me a favor. I dinna trust any other mon. I need ye to get to Dunakin as fast as ye can travel. I need ye to have my mother meet us at Dunstan. Annella is no’ good, and I fear that my mother’s healing skills may be the only thing that may help.”
“Aye, my laird. I will leave at once.”
“Thank ye, Ewan.” Rory offered him an appreciative smile.
While the men set up tents and hunted for food, Rory gathered Annella in his arms and brought her inside one of the tents. Taking a wet cloth, he wiped her face down trying to keep her cool and comfortable as she slept. He raked his hand through his hair and placed his head in his hands. He had never felt so helpless before. With tears in his eyes, he lifted up one of her hands and held it in his. He leaned forward and placed soft kisses on the back of her hand and whispered, “Dinna leave me, lass.”
April Holthaus - The MacKinnon Clan 01 Page 6
