Colin clutched at the cross around his neck. “Do you think they will torture us, M’Laird?”
“Ha, knowing Ewin Cameron and Hugh MacKenzie, aye. They will take delight in watching the two of us suffer, especially me.” Andrew scratched at the fleabite on his arm. A large rat ran across the cell and stopped close to his feet. He folded his long legs out of the way trying not to touch the rodent. The rat finally scurried away and left the cell through the bars.
“Then I shall pray the Lord will help me be brave and not yell or scream too loudly. I dinna wish to dishonor you, M’Laird.” Colin turned the gold cross over in his fingers.
Andrew put his finger on the bare place of his neck where the crystal had lain. The stone of protection did not perform its job very well this day. One of Cameron’s warriors probably wore the large stone now, yet they left Colin’s cross. Mayhap they feared the necklace and let it be.
“If you pray, lad, pray for a means of escape. That will do us the most good.” He looked sideways at the young man sitting next to him—a true and loyal lad. He had fought hard to protect his chief, but alas, they had been outnumbered three to one. A trap had been set. Colin and he had fallen into it.
“Aye. I will pray for a means of escape.” Colin closed his eyes. His lips moved in silent prayer while his fingers turned the cross over and over.
Andrew watched the gille pray and thought of Maidie. The memory of a dream from the previous night rose through the dark recess of his mind. A fair maiden came from the mist to beckon him. She had hair of spun gold and eyes of sky blue. A large pearl hung around her slender white neck. He remembered trying to touch the pearl, because she promised life and love. Andrew put his head in his hands, resting both on his knees. Lord in the Highest Heaven, if you are there and listening to my plea, send the maiden back to me. I will try with all my might to touch the pearl if touching the gem is required for life and love. If you dinna grant life to me, grant it to this fine lad. Let him live.
A voice rang in his head. Your heart must be pure to touch the pearl.
Andrew raised his head to look at Colin. The lad still prayed. “Did you say something to me, lad?”
“Nae, M’Laird, only to God.” The young man shook his head.
Doors clanged. Several pair of boots scraped along flagstone floors. Torchlight lit the dark passage. Loud talking and guffaws sounded throughout the dungeon. Andrew and Colin looked toward the sounds. Four finely dressed gentlemen, accompanied by several guards with two carrying torches, approached the bars to the cell.
“Saint’s above,” Andrew whispered under his breath when he recognized his father-in-law, Bryson Fraser, with Ewin Cameron and Hugh MacKenzie. The fourth man was a stranger.
“My, my, what have we here? Seems we captured a prize, lads. None other than the chief of Clan Munro, the Black Falcon of Ferindonald.” The man with a full red beard streaked with grey leaned his head back and roared with laughter, then bent forward to slap his thighs. The others joined his hearty mirth. “Let’s see you fly out of this one, Black Falcon.” He slapped enormous thighs once more and laughed even louder.
Colin’s mouth hung open. He started to stand, but Andrew put a hand on the lad’s arm. Andrew looked ahead and remained seated. “Hello, Hugh. Pleased to bring so much amusement to you and your friends.”
“You could stand and give me the respect I require, Munro. After all, we did best you in a fair fight.” The MacKenzie chief put his hands on his hips.
“You call burning my village a fair fight, MacKenzie? Were your friends part of that crime also?” Andrew’s hand pointed to the other three men. His voice rose in angst.
“Had to be done, Munro. Only way we could get you or the tanist away from Fàrdach. We were hoping to capture your brother, but got the prize instead.” The big man laughed again, along with the other three.
“You could have killed one of the villagers.”
“Nae, peasants are hearty people. We set the fire slowly so they could escape. Stand up and face me if you want the terms of your release.” The MacKenzie’s voice took on a tone of authority and impatience.
Andrew rose to his feet with great effort. Colin followed and stood beside his chief, ready to assist if needed. Andrew looked into the faces of his captors. He nodded toward them. “Hugh, Ewin, Bryson. Sorry I dinna ken the fellow with you.”
“’Tis my brother, Charles Cameron,” Ewin Cameron said.
Although somewhat shorter and stockier than his brother, the man with fair, shoulder-length hair mixed with grey and piercing blue eyes held a resemblance to the chief of Clan Cameron. Andrew knew him to be Cameron kin before Ewin spoke.
“Aye, so ‘tis. I see the family resemblance, beady eyes and all.” Andrew couldn’t help but smile at the man.
Charles Cameron moved forward. “Now look, Munro. If you wish to get ugly, I can oblige you.”
“Hold off, Charlie.” Ewin caught his brother’s arm. “We have the Munro just where we want him. He’ll be more miserable shortly.” Ewin smiled, showing large yellow teeth.
Andrew felt sure Colin and he would be the objects of their amusement all too soon. The rat ran across Charles Cameron’s foot. Cameron jumped and cursed, causing all eyes to follow the creature as it ran back into Andrew’s cell and scurried under the straw with the other vermin.
Hugh MacKenzie laughed again. The others, except for Charles, joined him in the hilarity. “Best make friends with the rats and other vermin in your cell, Munro. You’ll be keeping them company for awhile.”
Andrew grabbed the cell’s bars. “What are you demanding of my people, MacKenzie?”
“You’ll find out soon enough. Something of great value you can be sure.”
“You butcher, my brother has better sense than to give in to your demands.” Andrew moved toward the MacKenzie chief with fire rising in his throat.
Hugh MacKenzie came close, staring into Andrew’s eyes. The strong smell of whisky on the chief’s breath assailed Andrew’s nostrils. He could not help but blink. “My demands will be met, you can be sure. One way or another. I have the means to see to it.”
“There is naught you can do to me that would make me give you anything.” Andrew stood his ground. They could torture him with all they have. He would not give in to their demands.
“Is that so? Have you ever had your legs broken or your arms pulled out of their sockets or your teeth pulled out one by one?” Hugh moved to stand in front of Colin. “Or mayhap this young warrior could walk on hot coals until his feet were burned to a nub. Or mayhap you and this lad would like to spend time in my cachot with mire up to your waist. The only way out is a hole in the top, and unless I throw you a rope, you’ll die in the black hole.” Colin’s face turned white and Hugh laughed, turning back to Andrew. “You see, Munro. I have my means.
“By the way, I won’t be attending your feast. My son is already spoken for.” He backed away to stand beside Bryson Fraser, and slapped him on the back. “Fraser and me will soon be linked in marriage.”
The young MacKenzie must be marrying Fraser’s youngest daughter, Margaret. Andrew spoke to the Fraser, “I thought we were friends, Bryson.”
“Ha, we haven’t been friends in nigh on four years, Andrew, and you well ken the reason why.”
“Sorry to hear that, Bryson.”
“Come lads. Let’s leave the Munro to his friends, the rats and vermin. They are all he has these days.” The MacKenzie snorted and then motioned with a large hand. The others followed out of the dungeon. A large metal door opened and then shut. Deathly quiet surrounded the two men, except for the rat’s squeaking under the straw.
Andrew and Colin took their seats against the slimy wall, wrapping their plaides tightly around their aching bodies. Andrew’s stomach growled, his mouth felt like sand on the shore of Cromarty Firth. Colin surely felt the same, but with the intensity of youth. Andrew looked at the lad.
Colin fingered the ornament around his neck. “My mither told me of the Lo
rd’s torture before He was hung on the cross,” Colin said with a tired voice. “She said the Lord spent the night in a cachot afore he stood trial by the Sanhedrin on the morn of His death. He suffered greatly, so I guess I can do the same.”
“Your mither must have been a saintly woman to teach you such things.” Andrew didn’t remember his mother telling him such stories. She told her children very few, and the ones she did tell were of selkies and magic. He did remember hearing Maighstir Tam telling of the Lord’s death and His resurrection to life again. Andrew had no trouble with the torture and death of God’s Son, but the resurrection was difficult to believe. If he were fortunate enough to return to Fàrdach Castle, he would talk to the maighstir about the Lord’s resurrection. Too many unanswered questions filled his mind.
Andrew stretched his legs out on the cold stone floor. He reached inside the leather jacket to feel the blood dampened léine. It seemed the same, so mayhap the bleeding had stopped. The wound, itself, felt like a firebrand to his belly. He coughed. Colin turned to stare at him, but there was naught they could do now.
He wished for the cool, gentle hands of Maidie on his aching body, washing the wound, his arms and legs as she had done before. Thinking of the healer caused his heart to race of a sudden. What attracted him to the woman? He had not felt such since Tara Fraser. There had been more beautiful and desirable lasses, to be sure, but none affected his insides like she did. Just a look from her sent his head spinning, throwing all logical thoughts out of his mind. Images of Maidie being alone with Gavin added to his misery. Saints in Heaven, he hoped she could withstand his brother’s amorous advances. Although he didn’t know of a lass who could.
Andrew had to think of something else. He turned to Colin. “I remember the day your da brought you to Fàrdach. A fine strapping lad you were. The minute I laid eyes on you, I ken you would be a fine warrior, and you are lad. A fine warrior.”
Colin turned to face Andrew. “Aye. My mither had just died. My da and me still grieved over her death, but Da had great hopes for my training. He wanted better for me than he could give, being a tenant crofter. He was verra thankful to you for taking me in.” The lad had a far away look in his eyes as he watched the dancing light on the ceiling. “I dinna keep you from being taken.” Colin put his head on his hands and rested them on his drawn up knees.
Andrew reached over and patted the head of the gille. “We’ll get out of this. You’ve served me well. Why dinna you tell me some of those stories your mither told you? I would like to hear them.” He settled into his plaide the best he could. Colin did the same. They were in for a long night.
Chapter Thirteen
Maidie’s wet hair hung around her shoulders. Steam rising from the water filled the room with the smell of summer roses. She sat in a chair beside the fireplace wrapped in a robe with closed eyes, praying for Andrew. A heavy knock on the chamber door broke her concentration. Nellie opened the door, curtseyed, then stood to one side for Gavin to enter. Gavin turned to Nellie. “Leave us,” he ordered.
With his eyes on Maidie, Gavin entered and waited for Nellie to close the door as she left. He stood with a rolled parchment in his hands, staring. His mouth tightened, an eyebrow lifted. Maidie felt heat rising to her face under his intense scrutiny.
She met his eyes and smiled. “Sir Gavin, may I pour you a mug of ale?”
“Aye. A mug of ale will be nice.” He took a seat across from her.
Maidie reached for the pitcher on the table and poured some of the brew into a cup. Gavin watched with an intensity that caused her hand to shake almost spilling the ale. She handed the mug to him. He placed the parchment in his lap, took the mug, and sipped slowly while staring at her over the rim. His hazel eyes met hers. She sat quietly.
“I’ve come with news from the chief’s captors,” he managed between sips.
“Aye. I thought as much.” She twisted the robe’s fuzzy fabric, waiting for his reply.
He placed the cup on the table, swallowed with a heavy gulp, and then spoke, “They require a heavy ransom for his release. One ‘tis crushing my heart to pay.”
“Sire?” Her voice quaked with dread.
He hesitated. “I have word from the MacKenzie and Cameron. They demand your return along with your son.”
She knew in her heart what her uncle’s demand would be for Andrew’s release. Maidie put her face in her hands. Tears flowed through her fingers. Gavin placed the parchment on the floor beside his chair, stood, walked to Maidie, and removed her hands from her eyes. She looked up. He pulled her to him, holding her close. She nestled her head in his chest and wept while he stroked the damp locks of hair. She wept for a time, wetting his waistcoat with her tears, then he pulled a large hand kertch from his vest pocket and handed it to her. She wiped her eyes, looking up at him. His lips found hers in a hard, passionate kiss. She did not return his kiss, but did not resist, only stood still while he caressed her neck with his lips, her cheeks, the end of her nose, then her lips once more.
He raised his head to look into her eyes and held her trembling chin in his hand. “I’ll find another way if you’ll stay.”
She searched his eyes. “The chief’s life depends on my going. I canna stay.”
Maidie’s head rested under Gavin’s chin. “I love you, Maidie. I canna let you go. You’ve captured my heart.”
She pushed away from his embrace, walked to the window, and watched the warriors on the sparring field. He followed, putting his arms around her waist. “I will find another way to gain Andrew’s release if you’ll stay with me.”
“Nae, you’re asking me to sacrifice the chief’s life. Sven and I are in danger here. I must return to my father.”
Gavin turned Maidie around and looked into her eyes. “I will find another way for Andrew’s release, and route out the one trying to harm you and Sven. I have a good idea who the culprit is. Just stay with me. I have said words to you that I’ve never said to any other. I love you. With all my heart, I love you.”
Maidie wrestled away from his arms and walked to the fireplace, leaving him to stare after her. She must reject the heart-wrenching confession of his love for her. Gavin stood for a moment where she left him, then walked to the chair and picked up the parchment.
“Make yourself and Sven ready to leave on the morrow,” he said then stomped from the chamber, slamming the door as he left.
Maidie stared at the closed door. She could not deny the emotions and desire Gavin raised in her, but he had an eye for many women, and her heart’s desire bent in another direction.
Nellie returned and assisted Maidie in dressing for the day in a plain brown wool skirt with linen blouse and wool vest. The chambermaid combed Maidie’s almost dry hair, twisted it into a knot, then pinned the knot to the top of her head. Nellie carefully pulled small tendrils of the golden locks around Maidie’s face and curled them around skillful fingers to form ringlets. The maid stood back to examine her work, smiling.
“You look bonny indeed, this morn, Madam, but you have dark circles under your eyes. Did you sleep well last night?”
“Nae. I hardly slept at all, Nellie. Too many thoughts played havoc in my mind.”
Nellie’s eyes searched Maidie’s. “I hope you stay with us, Madam.”
“I canna stay, Nellie. One of the conditions for the chief’s release is for Sven and me to return to my father. You must help me get ready to leave on the morrow.” Maidie slumped in the chair. She felt drained after spending her pinned up emotions and tears on Gavin’s waistcoat.
Nellie put tender arms around Maidie’s shoulders. “I’m so sorry, Madam. So verra sorry you must now leave Fàrdach Castle.” She hesitated before speaking more. “Laird Andrew loves you. I can see it in his eyes when he looks at you, and he hasn’t loved another since...” Nellie said no more.
Maidie looked up at the maid with a sniff. “Oh, Nellie. My heart aches so I canna sleep or think. I dinna wish to give my heart again, knowing it would bring only pain, but
I canna help the growing love I feel for the chief.”
Nellie patted Maidie’s head. “I understand love, Madam. I fell so hard for Alan I dinna sleep nor eat for days, until he declared his love.”
Maidie smiled at the gentle maid. “Aye, Nellie. Love can make one miserable indeed.”
Nellie went to a table beside the bed, opened a drawer and pulled out a clean kertch. As she brought the kertch to Maidie, her lips lightly brushed the three corners and she made the sign of the cross. She then tied the kertch around Maidie’s head so that the three points, symbolizing the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit, hung close on the back of her neck.
“The Lord will be with you wherever you go, Madam. You wear the sign of the trinity on your hair to remind you of His presence.” Nellie patted Maidie’s shoulders, then walked back to the table, and retrieved a small gold crucifix, securing it around Maidie’s neck. “Have you worn this necklace for a long while, Madam?”
“Aye, Nellie. My mither gave the cross to me when I was a child before she died of the fever. Please pray the Lord will show me the path to tread. And if I must return to my father, help me forget this love I carry in my heart for the laird. It is so futile to feel such for one I canna have.”
A Highland Pearl (Highland Treasures Book 1) Page 12
