“You know why. My son. I love him.”
“But I’ll protect you.” His finger reached up and caressed her cheek. “You do not deserve to be treated as I’ve seen him treat you. The Lamonts are murderers, are they not? Did they not kill your parents? My clan will bring them to justice. Come with me now, and I’ll see you are safe. I’ll come back for your son.”
The tears she’d been struggling to hide erupted as if she’d held them inside for decades. “I can’t. You don’t know what he’d do. I tried to run away before, and he…he…”
His hand reached for her neck, massaging her soft skin gently. “Hush, you have nothing to fear from me, and I promise to see this situation righted. He’ll never hurt you again. Clan Grant has over five hundred warriors. We can handle the Lamonts.”
“But Steenie…he said…”
She leaned into him, clutching his tunic as she cried into his shoulder.
Braden whispered, “What did he say? You can tell me.”
She gulped, and he held her, surprised at how a sudden calm overwhelmed him, as if he were meant to hold her exactly where she was. He closed his eyes and inhaled her scent, a sweetness to her unlike anything he’d ever known.
She managed to pull back enough to gaze into his eyes. “He said he would kill me and sell Steenie across the water…”
Braden couldn’t help but be startled about the mention of selling a child. Could the Lamonts be involved with the Channel of Dubh? Did they know of it? All sorts of possibilities battled in his mind. What to do first?
First, he had to get her and her son to safety.
A harsh voice called to her from the door in the curtain wall. “Cairstine? Where the hell are you?”
“Hush,” she whispered. “I think ‘twas Greer.”
He took hold of her hand, caressing the tender skin on the back, and said, “Come with me. I’ll take you away from him.”
She tugged her hand away and whispered, “Nay. I cannot.” She stepped away from him, but he took ahold of her wrist.
“Stay. Trust me to take you away from here and make sure he never hurts you again. I’ll talk to my laird about helping you regain the land that is rightfully yours, and we’ll come back for Steenie. I’ll get you to my warriors and return for him in less than an hour, but I must get you away first.”
He could see the briefest glint of hope in her eyes before she turned away. “I must not leave without him. Let me be.” Her voice and her eyes didn’t support her words. The way she held her body told him she’d softened toward him, maybe even wanted to join him, but the thought of Greer selling their son clearly held her back. He released her, though every bit of him wanted to sweep her away to safety. At the same time, he recalled Connor’s warning that they hadn’t brought enough men to stand up in a battle against the Lamonts. This was merely a mission for information with strict instructions from Uncle Alex, and to act rashly could risk his ability to save her and her son. And he swore he would. He counted on his cousins to discover the true number of guards they held here.
As he watched her retreating back, he tried to piece it together. She’d admitted that Greer had taken her captive, and her voice had nearly broken when she’d expressed her wish to break free.
Well, he’d offered her the perfect chance to escape and she’d rejected him. But how could he blame her when Lamont had threatened to kill her and do the unthinkable with her son?
Braden had almost reached his horse when a small voice called down from the curtain wall. “Mama? Mama, where are you?”
Braden climbed atop his horse and glanced over at the curtain wall before he left, watching as a young lad charged up to Cairstine and hugged her. Greer stood next to the door, observing the reunion without participating in it.
Everything became clear to Braden in an instant. His sire had said the Muirs had been attacked five or six years ago, just about the age of the wee laddie. Cairstine hadn’t admitted they’d killed her parents, but what else could have happened? They’d laid low and disappeared when his sire had sent his warriors here. She’d said how she wished her situation were different.
Braden’s life had just changed unequivocally, irrevocably in a way he’d never anticipated. The knowledge he’d gained from this scouting visit would have a lasting effect on him. Greer Lamont hadn’t just massacred Cairstine Muir’s clan.
When he and his brother had finished murdering her family, he’d raped and abducted her.
By his honor as a Grant, he’d avenge her clan and her treatment by the Lamonts. Soon enough, this life would be dead to Cairstine.
Because Greer Lamont was a dead man.
Chapter Six
Braden flicked the reins of his horse, heading back toward the path where he’d left Roddy and Connor before traveling behind the curtain wall. He could see the group heading back toward Grant land. He’d found exactly what he’d hoped to find, the answers to so many of his questions.
He called out to his cousin. “Roddy, what did you learn?”
“Not much,” he replied. “The Lamont brothers are definitely in control, but they claim the castle was abandoned when they overtook it four years ago. They denied killing the Muirs, said they knew naught of them; that they’d deserted their castle south of here and come upon this one empty. Had no idea whose castle it was, just assumed since much of it was ruined that they could inhabit it.”
“No doubt a lie.” Killers and rapists also tended to be liars.
“Could be. They claim they come and go as they please, don’t bother anyone and don’t want any trouble. The place looks as if it’s deteriorated under their watch, though ‘tis difficult to tell from the outside with the curtain wall intact. The outside huts are mostly in shambles. Muir supported a clan here from what Uncle Alex said, yet there is little that speaks of a prosperous group. I got a glimpse at a few of the cottages inside, but they haven’t been kept up. There are no crops being planted as far as I could tell. How do they survive?”
“Did anyone get inside?” he asked, hoping for a wee bit more information.
“Nay. We just spoke to them at the gates. Offered assistance as good neighbors, but we were refused. My guess is they are the reivers we’ve noted on and off over the last four years. They’d have no other way of supporting themselves.”
“How many guards?”
Roddy held his horse back and tipped his head to Ronan’s brothers. “Lads, did you get any count on the guards? Either of you?”
“I saw around a dozen,” Keith said.
“Aye,” Moray added, “and twenty to thirty in the lists.”
“So they can’t have more than fifty,” Braden said. He couldn’t stop a smile from crossing his face at the thought of storming Muir Castle and retaliating against the murderous brothers.
Roddy nodded to Keith and Moray and then pulled up ahead of them as they moved through a narrow part of the trail. Braden rode directly ahead of his cousins. The clouds above were gray, though it hadn’t rained on them yet. They picked their way across the path carefully, avoiding the muddy areas, and moved slow enough to comfortably converse.
Once they were out of Keith and Moray’s hearing, Roddy asked, “Why does that please you? What did you discover behind the curtain wall? We saw no lasses at all.”
Connor said, “Speak up, Braden. You look as though you’ve swallowed a bird that’s fighting to get out.”
Braden glanced back. “I found what I was searching for,” he said with a smirk.
Roddy looked stunned, turning around to make sure they couldn’t be overheard. “A certain lass?”
“Aye, a beautiful lass named Cairstine Muir. And she gave me a clue as to why they don’t have any fields producing. They don’t need them.”
“Hellfire.” Roddy let out a low whistle. “She is a Muir. Married to one of the Lamonts?”
“Nay. She was taken captive.” He pursed his lips to keep himself from cursing and sharing what he planned to do to the doomed brothers.
&nb
sp; “God’s teeth,” Roddy whispered. “Why did you not bring her with you?”
Braden said, “I tried, but she refused. Her son was not with her, but with Greer Lamont. She won’t leave the laddie behind.”
“Did the Lamonts kill her clan?” Connor asked.
“She didn’t say nay.”
“What the hell does that mean?” Connor asked.
“I was about to ask her that question directly, but we were interrupted.”
“Stop speaking in riddles and tell us all you learned,” Connor barked. Braden could often see Uncle Alex in Connor’s ways. Neither of them was patient when it came to dealing with bastards.
“Here’s what I know. She is a Muir who’d been taken captive by the Lamonts. She has a son of five winters. The reason she doesn’t leave is because she tried to escape a year ago, but Greer caught her and beat her, then promised if she ever did it again, he’d sell her son over the water…”
“He raped her and got her with child?” Roddy shouted.
“Over the water? As in the Channel of Dubh?” Connor’s wide-eyed gaze stared at both him and Roddy.
“Aye, ‘tis the word I would use, Roddy. And Connor, I think ‘tis possible that across the water does indeed mean the Channel of Dubh.”
“Is it Greer who attacked her? Or his brother, or both?” Connor added.
Braden squeezed his eyes shut at the thought of the two brothers… “Don’t ever mention the possibility of both of them again.”
Connor tipped his head toward Roddy. “I think we have a new mission. ‘Tis time to send someone for Will and Maggie.”
“So, she fears for her life and her son’s. Either way, Braden,” Roddy said quietly so no one would overhear. “She refused to come with you. I’m glad you did not force her. Think you she would be willing if you guarantee her safety?”
Braden glanced at the treetops overhead as they traveled through the heavily forested area. His cousins were his closest friends and usually they were also quite in tune to his thoughts, but this time they did not fully understand.
The pine branches waved as the wind picked up. It occurred to him that he was acting completely out of character. He should be furious, ranting wildly, cursing revenge on the brothers, and promising to kill them with his own sword. But something in him had changed. He felt angry, aye, but he also felt calm. The same way he’d felt with Cairstine in his arms. He didn’t need to speak his vow because it had become a part of him, a driving force to be reckoned with.
The Lamonts would not stop him. He knew that like he knew his own name.
“Braden, what’s wrong?”
“Naught. All is well,” he said, glancing back. “I’ve already promised her that I’ll protect her and her son, but please keep this between us until we talk to our laird.”
Roddy’s eyes widened and he drew his horse closer to Braden’s mount. “You know Uncle Alex will support you. But we must wait until we have enough warriors. They have at least fifty. We must have more. You have no doubt this is what you wish to do?”
Braden nodded because he’d never been more sure of anything. “I spoke with her, actually held her in my arms for a moment, but we were interrupted. One of the Lamonts yelled her name…and then the young lad called out for his mother.”
“And?” Connor asked.
“And I witnessed her fear firsthand. She ran as soon as Lamont called to her, but she didn’t want to. Had the lad been with us, I may have been able to make off with the both of them that instant. Make clear, though, Connor, I’ll not stop until I get her and the laddie away from that bastard.”
He shifted his gaze back to his cousin.
“You have my support, cousin.” He stopped his horse for a second, staring at Braden in expectation.
“Nay, not now,” Braden whispered. “We do not have the men, and Greer is not going anywhere. She’ll be there on the morrow. But we must make haste. We don’t want this visit to tip the Lamonts off that we’ll be back again and give them an opportunity to slip through our grasp.”
“What are you planning?” Roddy moved his horse forward.
“First we go to our sires and our laird, and if they will not assist us, then we’ll summon our Band of Cousins. From what Cairstine said, there could be an even bigger operation that needs our attention; this could involve the Channel. The Grants will want to be involved.”
Roddy thought for a moment and then nodded, chewing on his lower lip in anger. “I agree.”
They cleared the forest into a meadow, now full of spring and early summer wildflowers. Braden flicked the reins of his horse and took the animal into a gallop, the Highland breeze rippling through his long hair. The wind in his face reminded him of something he had that Cairstine did not.
Freedom.
***
“Mama! You should have come with us!” Steenie’s excitement bubbled over. “I saw them. The Grants. Have you never seen them? They were the biggest and strongest warriors I’ve ever seen. They all wear red plaids.” His eyes shone with enthusiasm she hadn’t seen from him in a while. “They wore the same plaid as that other man.”
“What other man?” Greer tipped his chin toward the place she’d been standing. “Was he not the same as the warrior on Drummond land?”
“I ran to hide from another attack. I had no idea he would be there,” she replied, not wanting to lie to Greer for fear he’d beat an answer out of her. “He said he was a Grant.”
Greer grabbed her by her plait and yanked her close.
“Ow, Greer. That hurts.” She stood on her tiptoes in an attempt to lessen the pain. “I did not invite him here.”
“If I ever catch you with another man…” he ground out. “You won’t like it.”
“Papa, don’t hurt Mama. Please?” Steenie grabbed her hand.
She focused on Steenie—his voice, his eyes, the feel of his soft skin against hers. It was the best way to deal with whatever pain Greer inflicted on her. She vowed not to upset her son, no matter what it took.
He was the only thing that mattered anymore.
“Steenie, return to the keep,” Greer said.
Steenie did as he was told. He had already learned not to argue with a beast; he would only get beaten. But he didn’t first leave without saying, in his sweet voice, “I love you, Mama.”
“I said go! Now!” Greer’s face contorted, his features turning deep red as his fury blossomed.
“Go inside, Steenie. Mama will be fine.” Cairstine did her best to convince the sweet lad that she was hale. She just wanted him to go before Greer’s temper turned in his direction. She should have left with the man, but she’d chosen to stay. There’d been no other choice with Steenie near the wall. What more did Greer want from her?
Once Steenie disappeared, Greer brought his face close to hers. “Did I see you next to that Grant warrior? It looked as though you were mighty close to him when I first saw you,” he growled.
“He grabbed me against my will. Please, Greer, loosen your grip.” She closed her eyes, not wanting to even look at the bastart.
“I think you need a wee lesson to remind you who you belong to. You’re mine. Do not ever think otherwise. A thousand Grant warriors won’t be able to take you from me or keep me from finding you.” He yanked her plait, pulling her toward the keep. Once inside, he dragged her toward the stairway to the cellars.
“I can’t keep up with you going down the stairs, Greer. You’re going too fast.” She stumbled and fell against him, but he shoved her upright.
“There’s a fine chamber for you down here, somewhere you can learn to remember who your master is.” He opened a door and threw her inside, letting go of her hair at the last moment.
Cairstine let out a yelp in pain, unable to hold it in any longer. She stumbled and fell to the ground, twisting her ankle in the process. She glanced up at the bastart, hoping he would just leave her alone.
He stood over her. “If you ever try to leave me, I’ll come after you and kill you,
as I’ve warned you before. You need to remember that, wench. You’ll never get away from me.” He stepped back into the passageway and closed the door, turning the key in the lock. There was a window in the door with four bars inside. She’d tried to take inventory of this place when he’d thrown her in here before, though she’d been barely conscious most of the time. If it weren’t for Steenie, she’d rather live in this cold, damp place because it meant fewer occasions to run into Greer.
Her sire had never needed to take any prisoners, but the brothers kept three chambers for that purpose alone. She hadn’t known of an occasion that they’d needed to lock anyone away besides her. The very thought of keeping prisoners made her skin crawl.
Once she heard Greer’s retreating footsteps, she sat up, massaging her scalp. Glancing around the dark chamber, she found the pallet against the far wall and a pot in the corner. She climbed onto the pallet and collapsed into sobs.
How she wished she’d gone with Braden Grant. Though he’d promised to return for her, she’d learned long ago not to underestimate the Lamonts’ ability to take away the one thing she had.
Hope.
Chapter Seven
Upon returning to Grant Castle, Braden, Connor, and Roddy immediately sought out an audience with their sires and Uncle Alex.
Once they were all settled in the solar, Uncle Alex asked, “What did you discover, lads?
Connor started. “Oh, it’s something you’ll want to hear, Uncle. There was no one at Buchan Castle, it’s still deserted. There were five of the king’s guards there to keep reivers away. They knew naught about the Lamonts. We didn’t find anything else until we traveled to our last stop, Muir Castle.”
Braden pursed his lips. “And there, we found the answers to our questions and more.”
“Did you bring the lass with you, get her away from the bastards?” his sire asked.
Highland Retribution Page 6
