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Highland Deliverance (Blades of Honor Book 3)

Page 17

by B. J. Scott


  Roslyn waved Lazarus off, tugged free of Quinn’s grasp, and backed away, her gaze locked with Connor’s. “If your brother insists on taking me with him, it willna be for long. I’ve escaped from my brother, twice, and I refuse to desert Ian now. If necessary, I’ll help him without your assistance, but I’ll na leave, na while he remains at Roderick’s mercy.”

  Connor raked his fingers through his hair. “I can appreciate your concern for my cousin, and your unselfish desire to be of some help is most admirable. But unless you can wield a sword and shoot an arrow, then I’m afraid there is naught you can do to help.”

  “I can do both, m’lord.” Roslyn proudly lifted her chin. “But I know of a way to get my brother to set Ian free and hopefully put a stop to his vendetta against the Frasers. I have something he values more than his hatred for Sheena, is stronger than his need to claim Quinn as his son, and the reason he has kept me alive and trapped in Morgan Castle for so long.”

  Connor summoned his brothers to join him in a private conversation. They huddled together, just out of her earshot, then returned.

  “Tell me what makes you think you can persuade your brother to release Ian,” Connor asked.

  “I will, but only after you agree to let me stay,” she replied. What she knew was too important to share unless she was positive Connor was ready to allow her to help.

  “Very well,” Connor conceded. “You may remain with us, provided you promise to obey my orders and stay out of the way.” He looked at Bryce. “Take Lady Roslyn and see that she has something to wear. We canna have a half-naked woman running around camp. Also see she gets something to eat and drink. Have someone tend to her injured feet as well.”

  Bryce offered a curt nod and grasped Roslyn’s elbow. “Come with me, m’lady, you must be famished, not to mention exhausted from your ordeal.”

  Roslyn agreed to accompany Bryce, but still wasn’t certain she could trust Connor to keep his promise. “I want your assurance that you willna change your mind, Laird Fraser?”

  Connor thumped his fist against his chest. “My word is my bond. Any woman who has been through what you have and is still determined to stand by her man, regardless of the risk and consequences, has my word of honor.”

  “Thank you, Laird Fraser.” Roslyn bobbed a curtsy.

  “Connor,” he said, smiling. “Go with Bryce, while we plan how best to handle this situation, and God willing, get Ian back alive.”

  Chapter 21

  After seeing Lazarus, Quinn, and Fiona off, Connor joined Bryce and Roslyn by the fire. “Can I have a moment alone with you, Lady Roslyn?”

  “Of course, Laird Fraser.” She popped the last morsel of an oatcake into her mouth and washed it down with a gulp of ale.

  “Alone. If you dinna mind, Bryce.” Connor glared at his younger brother.

  Bryce stood and brushed the dirt from his trews. “I’ll be over by the horses with Alasdair and John if you need me.”

  Connor waited until his brother was out of earshot and sat beside Roslyn. “I trust you had sufficient to eat and drink.”

  “Aye. And thank you for letting me stay, Lord Fraser,” she said before he got a chance to say anything else.

  “I’m na so sure it was a wise decision on my part. I just hope it doesna come back to bite me in the arse,” Connor replied. “I see Bryce also found you something to wear.”

  Roslyn glanced down at her tunic and trews. They were several sizes too large, but it was the only thing he could find. The men didn’t make a habit of carrying gowns and slippers into battle. “He did indeed. And while they are men’s garments, they are a far cry warmer than my night rail.”

  Connor stroked his chin, grinning. “When we have more time, you’ll have to explain to me why you were half-naked when we found you. But right now I want you to tell me what information you possess that will help to free Ian.”

  Roslyn lowered her gaze. She’d hoped it would not be necessary to betray the deathbed promise she made her mother, but if it meant Ian’s life, she’d do what was necessary to save him.

  Frowning, Connor asked, “You did say you had a way to make Roderick let my cousin go, did you na?”

  “Aye.” She chewed on her bottom lip.

  “Then tell me, lass. Time is of the essence if we hope to save Ian.”

  “You asked me to believe you were a man of you word, a man of honor, Lord Fraser,” Roslyn began, then paused and drew in a slow, deep breath before she continued. “I ask that you grant me the same courtesy. Trust me when I say I do have information that can save Ian. But choose not to reveal it until the time is right, and only if necessary.”

  “What game are you playing?” Connor snapped.

  Roslyn narrowed her gaze and fisted her hands in her lap. “There is no game. However the matter is a delicate one and involves a deathbed promise I made to my mother.” Tears welled in her eyes, but she blinked them away. “I made a vow on the day she died and have carried her secret with me since. I will tell you, Lord Fraser, if the need arises, but prefer to keep my word as long as I can.”

  Connor rested his hand on Roslyn’s shoulder. “I can understand your reluctance to break your word. Especially to your mam. But this is Ian’s life we are talking about. I need to know what it is before we make our move against your brother’s army. If what you have to say can see Ian spared and possibly prevent men from dying, I insist you tell me.”

  Roslyn rose and began to pace. “It isna easy, Lord Fraser. I gave her my word.”

  “And Ian might die if you hold your tongue. I swear na to tell a soul unless there are no other options. But I must know.”

  After taking a moment to consider all possible options, she met Connor’s stare. “How much do you know about Clan Morgan?”

  “Na a great deal, other than the fact they are a sept of Clan MacKay and have one of the fiercest armies in all the Highlands. I met your brother and your da a few times when King Robert called a gathering of the clans.”

  “Perhaps I should start at the beginning.” Roslyn reclaimed her spot beside Connor. “Many years ago, Vikings pillaging the northing shores of Scotland, planned a raid on the MacKay stronghold. But the laird got wind of it and attacked the northmen before they could launch their invasion on his castle. He did so with the aid of Clan Morgan.”

  “What has this to do with freeing Ian?” Connor asked, not bothering to hide the impatience in his tone.

  “The Vikings were slaughtered in their beds, and a prize worth a great fortune was taken as a spoil of war. More wealth than most men could ever dream of,” she explained. “Following the battle, treasure was divided between the two clans. Amongst the items acquired by Clan Morgan were a gold cuff bracelet adorned by a king’s ransom in precious gems and a brooch of equal value.”

  “I’ve heard the tales, but always believed they were just fables,” Connor said.

  “They are na a fable, sir. I know they exist.” Roslyn glanced away. She’d already said too much and wished she could take it all back, but it was too late.

  “You’re talking in circles, lass. What has this to do with rescuing Ian?” Connor snapped. “It’s getting late and if we are going to attack your brother first, we’ll need to do it soon.”

  “Over the years, the treasure was passed down to the new laird of each clan. And my father was no exception. Roderick was the next in line.” Roslyn hesitated for a moment.

  “Go on,” Connor prompted.

  Despite the guilt tugging at her gut, she knew she’d already betrayed her mother’s trust, so she continued. “Mam loved Roderick as any mother loves a son, but she saw in him the evil my da refused to acknowledge. She feared my brother would abuse the wealth to gain more power and many people would suffer because of it. So she hid the treasure. Roderick was furious and has hunted for it ever since.”

  Connor shot her a knowing glance. “And you know where it is?”

  “Aye. She bid me keep the secret and asked me to see the next laird receive the
wealth, provided he was worthy.” Roslyn exhaled hard. It was as if the weight of the world were suddenly lifted from her shoulders.

  “Your mother asked much of you, m’lady,” Connor said. “You’ve done her proud by keeping her secret safe.”

  “Until now,” Roslyn said with downcast eyes.

  “She would understand.” Connor offered her a reassuring pat on the arm. “Given the circumstances, she’d also forgive you.”

  “I hope so.” She peered up at Connor. “You can see how this might sway my brother to set Ian free, but must also understand it wasna easy for me to break my oath.”

  “And you think your brother would give up Ian for whereabouts of the gems? Is he aware you know?”

  “Aye,” she said. “And I’m ashamed to admit it, but Roderick would do anything to get his hands on the treasure. He suspects I know its location. Likely the reason he has beaten me and threatened to marry me off to some of the most despicable lairds in the Highlands, but never finished the deed.”

  “Connor!” Alasdair lumbered across the clearing. “The men you sent to spy on Clan Morgan have returned.”

  “I’ll be right there.” Connor rose.

  “What do you plan to do with the information I’ve given you, Laird Fraser?”

  “I’ve not yet decided,” he replied. “I guess it depends on what the scouts have to say. And if Ian is alive or dead.”

  “I pray he lives.” Roslyn bowed her head.

  “As do I,” Connor replied. “If we can rescue him without disclosure, we will, but if necessary, I will have to use the information to reason with Roderick.”

  After Connor spoke to the men who’d infiltrated her brother camp, he ordered his warriors to prepare for battle. Roslyn pensively watched as they donned leather gantlets and padded gambesons. Some wore tunics and coifs of chainmail. When the heavy destriers and the lighter, swifter coursers were led into the clearing, with the horses wearing their barding—metal crinieres to protect their necks and leather and mail croupieres over their flanks—she knew a fight was inevitable.

  Unable to contain her curiosity any longer, Roslyn dashed toward the men. She had to know if Ian was alive or dead.

  “Laird Fraser,” she shouted, then grabbed the bridle of his horse and peered up at him. “What news have you of Ian?”

  Connor dismounted, handed his reins over to Alasdair, then addressed Roslyn, “You must forgive me for not speaking to you sooner. It is imperative we head out at once. I did however intent to inform you what was happening before we left.”

  “Tell me what you know of Ian. Is he . . .?” She couldn’t bring herself to ask if he was dead, couldn’t bear the thought.

  “Ian is wounded, but he’s alive.” Connor patted her forearm. “The men I sent couldna get close enough to determine how badly he was injured, so it’s important we get him out of there as soon as possible.”

  “You intend to attack Roderick’s camp and take him by force?”

  “Aye. If necessary. But, I’m hoping it willna come to that,” Connor replied. “First we will surround their camp, before they have a chance to encircle ours. They willna be expecting it. After which, I’ll try to reason with Roderick.”

  “You canna reason with the devil.” Roslyn threw her hands up in frustration. “Were you na listening to anything I said earlier? My brother is na a reasonable man. Nor will he bargain when he believes he can win. It will be a total waste of your time to be sure. Not to mention most dangerous. There is only one thing that will appease Roderick, and only I can deliver it.” Roslyn glanced around the clearing. “Have you a mount I can ride?”

  “Nay.” Connor gave his head a shake. “You’re na coming with us. You’ll wait here with Ian’s brother, Collin. He has been given instructions to take you to Fraser Castle if we fail in our attempt to subdue Roderick’s men and he feels you are in danger of being captured. I penned a missive for Lazarus, explaining everything. He’ll protect you.”

  “I dinna wish to go to Fraser Castle, na without Ian. Please, let me come along. I can tend the wounded, and I may be the only person Roderick is willing to barter with.” How could she make him listen?

  “I told you before, the battleground is na a place for a woman. You will wait here with Collin, Roslyn, and you’ll na persuade me to change my mind.” Connor strode to his horse and mounted. “Collin, take her back to the fire. If for any reason we fail, take her to Lazarus and give him the parchment.” He signaled for men to mount, then led them out of the clearing.

  “Come, Lady Roslyn,” Collin said, “it’s warmer by the fire. You must be exhausted, perhaps you can rest.” He placed his hand on her shoulder, but she shrugged away.

  “I’m na cold, and I canna sleep, na while Ian is being held captive and your clan is in danger.” She wrapped her arms around herself and stared at the forest where the warriors had disappeared from view. She prayed Connor would succeed in rescuing Ian, but she honestly believed that as long as her brother lived, no one was safe.

  Chapter 22

  Ian groaned and sucked in deep gulp of air as he waited for his thoughts to clear. His arms ached and his head pounded. He struggled against the bonds securing him to a wooden stake at the edge of Roderick’s encampment, but the effort proved futile. Excruciating pain lanced though his shoulder with even the slightest movement. As the result of the brutal kick to the face he’d received from Roderick, one of his eyes was nearly swollen shut. But with his good eye, he managed to glance down at the arrow shaft protruding from his upper chest, a vivid reminder of the grave situation in which he found himself.

  “He’s awake, Lord Morgan.” The guard jabbed his elbow into Ian’s side.

  “Are you certain he’s conscious?” Roderick grabbed a fistful of Ian’s hair and yanked his head back, his face only inches away. “There is no sport in torturing a man who canna appreciate the process.”

  “Why do you na just kill me and get it over with?” Ian rasped. “Better yet, untie me and let us settle this like men.”

  Roderick laughed. “I’d hardly consider you a challenge. Besides which, I have other plans for you.”

  “By now Roslyn has told Connor of your intent to raid the camp while they sleep.” Again Ian matched the intensity of Roderick’s glower of contempt with one of his own. He might be tied up and at the bugger’s mercy, but he’d never yield.

  “If I know my cousin, he is preparing a counter attack as we speak. And when Connor sets him mind to something, he doesna give up until he gets what he wants. He has a garrison of men ready to pounce,” Ian warned. “If I were you, I’d break camp and head back to Morgan Castle like the dog you are, with your tail between his legs.”

  “Let them come. I’m ready and I’m na going anywhere,” Roderick snapped. “Connor Fraser has something I want, and I can be equally tenacious. I have men out scouring the woods. If they see any trace of the Frasers, I’ll be alerted immediately.”

  “I’ve told you, there’s no use trying to barter with Connor. He willna deal with the likes of you. Even if you did have something he would consider worth bargaining for. And he will never relinquish Quinn in exchange for me.”

  An evil grin crossed Roderick’s lips. “Perhaps na, but Roslyn will give me what I want in exchange for your life.”

  “Roslyn will already be on her way to Fraser Castle,” Ian replied, “as is Quinn, if they are na already there. And you’ll never get close to either of them ever again.”

  “It appears I know my sister better than you do. She canna resist a lost cause and she wouldna leave, knowing I hold you captive. Her sense of decency and honor wouldna permit it,” Roderick replied smugly. “I however, care about neither of those things. My sister is out there and it’s just a matter of time before she comes crawling, begging me to spare you’re pathetic life.”

  Ian prayed Roderick was wrong and that Roslyn was in fact on her way to safety. But the more he thought about what her brother said, the more he worried the blackguard might be right. H
e peered into the forest surrounding the camp, searching for a sign that Connor and his men were present, but came up empty.

  Ian fought to remain conscious, but as the hours passed, it became more difficult. His wound continued to bleed, and if left unattended, he’d not survive the night. He licked his parched lips, his mouth as dry as wood. He’d give anything for a sip of ale, but would never ask.

  Roderick stood in the middle of the encampment a jug of whisky in one hand, a claymore in the other. He took a swig, then raised his weapon in the air. “Hear me Connor Fraser. If you are out there, I willna give up without a fight. Unless you wish to bargain,” he shouted, then moved to Ian and slid his blade beneath his chin. “Answer me, Fraser, if you value this man’s life. If na, I will slit his throat. Send me Roslyn and the lad and we’ll make an exchange. Then you can be on your way.”

  Ian glared at Roderick. The man was clearly in his cups so there was no telling what he might do. “Go ahead and slit my throat,” Ian challenged through clenched teeth. “I’ve no doubt Connor has your camp surrounded and there is no way to escape.”

  “We have plenty of supplies so can hold out as long as necessary. I will get what I want.” Roderick brought the jug to his lips and drank deeply. “This must look pretty good to you about now.” He dragged the back of his hand across his mouth, then dangled the jug in front of Ian’s face. I’d suspect you’re getting thirsty. He took a wineskin from his belt. “This is full of water. I filled it from that cool, clean lake,” he taunted. “Call out to your clan leader and tell him to give me what I want, and it’s yours.”

  “Go to hell,” Ian snarled.

  “Suit yourself. By morning you’ll change your tune.” He uncapped the vessel and dumped the content in the dirt, water pooling at Ian’s feet. “By then, you’ll be begging for a drink.”

 

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