by Fiona Faris
“NO!” Amelia screamed. Gavin held Amelia tight, unable to believe his plan worked, and not wanting to see what became of the horse. Amelia moved to see.
“Let me go, Gavin, I need to see. We need to save the horse.” He held her fast, but she was strong and broke free. There was fire in her eyes.
“No lass, th’ beastie is gone.” He grabbed her about the shoulders, resisting the urge to shake sense into her. She suffered a shock; it would do no good for him to be harsh with her. He softened his tone and pulled her into another embrace. “There was no way it survived that fall. Even if it did, most likely one or more of its legs will be broken. We have nay musket tae put it out of its misery.” A clap of thunder rolled in the distance, and Gavin felt the air shift. He looked down at Amelia, suffering so acutely for her lost horse. “We need tae move on, lass, we can share one horse for the rest of the journey, but there is a storm comin’. We need tae get off this hill before the weather changes.”
“This is all my fault! Everything!” She was inconsolable. “We should have never come here. We should turn back. It’s too dangerous, too treacherous! What if we’d been reversed? What if it had been you that had been stuck, Gavin? I couldn’t have saved you.”
“Lass, I didnae like seeing ye up on that horse either, but we are both alright. We are alive. Ye’ve been searching for so long, we cannae give up now. Our lives together cannae start until we close this chapter of yers. We must continue on. Do ye nay see, we are so close.” Gavin was unsure when his opinion on Amelia’s chosen path had changed, but it mattered not. He wanted her to find her missing brother. He thought of what she’d said back in Cadney and Ullapool about Milly, and how hard his sister had fought for him. The strong women in Gavin’s life were forces he would die for, and he meant what he had said. He wanted a new, happy life with Amelia, and to get that life, he would chase her missing sibling down to the ends of the Earth. The MacLeod lands were pretty close to those ends as any human would live, so he knew they were on the right track.
“Can you hold me for just a moment more, Gavin?” The need in her voice forced its way through his own fear, and he found he could not refuse her.
“Aye, lass,” he replied, placing a light kiss on her forehead, then each of her cheeks. She closed her eyes against the pain of almost dying, the snake, the horse. He moved and placed a gentle kiss to her lips. He wanted to convey to her that he valued her life above all others. She leaned into his kiss and opened herself for him. The reality of almost losing her for a second time was beginning to sink in, and Gavin was overcome with the need to make her feel him. He wasn’t going anywhere. He deepened the kiss, using his tongue to delve into her completely. The need in her response to him let him know that this kiss was different from the passionate kisses they had shared the night before. This kiss was the kiss of two people desperate to hold onto each other, no matter the danger that lie ahead or behind. They were one. They were alive. A fat, cold drop of moisture hit his cheek, and Gavin pulled back from Amelia, the blue depths of her eyes conveying she understood the feelings coursing through him, and she felt them as well. Another drop, then another.
He pulled her along the rough trail, toward their remaining horse.
Chapter Twenty-Five
The MacLeod Keep rose like a giant stone monolith from the craggy rocks of the island coast. The main keep consisted of a tall tower with few windows, and nothing natural surrounding it. The castle had been a stronghold since the time that their Pict ancestors roamed Scotland. And Gavin understood why no invading army in their right minds would try and take the ancient ruin. Gavin had met a few men of the MacLeod clan at the battle of Dunkeld. They were as hard and impenetrable as the castle walls themselves.
He wrapped his arms tightly around Amelia’s middle. If they had a more pleasant journey, he would allow himself to relish the feel of her soft curves pushed up against his body in the saddle. They fit together well. It’s possible her kin could be behind those giant walls, and they could in happier times visit the MacLeods quite frequently. Pleasant visits. God, he hoped this was a pleasant visit, and they hadn’t borrowed more trouble coming to this forgotten place.
They had barely made it off the rise of the last hill, the main, safer road in view when the storm broke, and if they hadn’t been so close on the horse, Gavin would not have been sure they wouldn’t have frozen. The rain was sharp and harsh as it fell, and there was nowhere to take refuge. They were soaked to the bone.
“There it is lass,” he said into her ear. He couldn’t be sure if she was awake, or if she dozed as they rode.
“It’s so foreboding. I still think maybe we should turn back,” she replied. He thought they had moved past her insecurities about the horse and the journey. There was no turning back now.
“Ye see that black shadow above that high turret?” he asked.
“Yes.”
“There’s nay turnin’ back now, lass, we’ve been spotted by MacLeod’s men. This is it.” He kicked the horse into a faster trot, and they approached the gate of the keep.
* * *
“Who goes there?” A sturdy looking man, Amelia thought not as large as Gavin, but twice as thick around the middle and with a touch of gray in his hair met them from above the gate to the entrance of the MacLeod Keep.
“Gavin MacGille, brother of Lucas MacGille, Laird of Clan MacGille and Lady Amelia Pearson, sister-in- law tae th’ laird. We are here tae speak with yer laird. Apologies for coming unannounced.” Gavin’s voice was sure and strong. Amelia immediately felt some of her trepidation fade. Surely, they would be treated well here. The castle itself may look ancient and angry, but it was easy to see the upkeep was much better than that of Cabduh, and the guard who greeted them seemed in his right mind, if not a little long in the tooth.
“Gavin MacGille, ye say, and Lady Amelia Pearson?”
“Aye,” Gavin answered. The guard seemed to recognize their names and a small pit of warning formed in Amelia’s stomach. What had that highwayman said? Word about them had been put out in Stornoway. He hadn’t mentioned them by name, but then again that didn’t mean Cabduh hadn’t. Amelia doubted very seriously that a highwayman looking to earn some extra coin would be able to read names on a page, but the laird of well-respected clan, that was another story.
“Wait here.” The guard disappeared, and Amelia heard the rush of his footfalls down the staircase in the tower.
“Something isn’t right,” she said softly to Gavin. “He acted as if he expected our arrival.”
“Aye, lass, ye noticed that as well, did ye? Could be nothing. Could be Tristan escaped his father’s clutches and rushed here on the main road hoping to find us but instead travelled on. Or maybe he left Cabduh and made it to Cadney, and Lucas sent word ahead of us. Don’t think the worst.”
Gavin was right, of course, their shortcut had turned out to be nothing like a shortcut at all. It was entirely possible that Tristan had sent word, somehow. But Amelia still wanted to be on her guard.
“I hope you are right, Gavin.”
“Me too, lass, but still, just in case, stay close tae me, and let me do th’ speaking. Men like MacLeod will be more inclined tae listen tae one of their own.”
The guard came back then, with two other men who proceeded to open the gates.
“Gavin MacGille and Lady Amelia, please leave yer horse tae be tended by our groom and join his lairdship in the main hall. My men will escort ye.”
Amelia didn’t want to leave the safety of the horse or Gavin’s warmth behind, but she summoned her courage. Gavin was right. They had come too far to turn back now. She allowed one of the guards to help her from the horse.
* * *
Something wasn’t right. There were far more ready and able clansmen in the great hall than should have been gathered at this hour. As far as Gavin could see, there was no meal or festival. He looked around the stone lined room. It was a cold castle, one that Gavin suspected had seen more than its fair share of siege
and strife over the years. His battle instincts were heightened, something was definitely amiss. He pulled Amelia close to him. There was also the minor fact that they were greeted by name. It would have been possible for Gavin to be recognized inside. MacGilles were known throughout the Highlands, but not Amelia. Nay, she would not have been known unless word from Cabduh had also gotten to the MacLeods
“Lass, be on yer guard,” he whispered into her ear.
“Ahh, so they said ye’d be comin’ my way, and here ye are.” A man entered the hall, he looked to be older. Gavin guessed closer to the age his Da would have been. He had sandy, unkempt hair with graying around the edges where it met his ears and temples. He was weathered, and Gavin suspected that came from years of working in such a harsh climate. This must be the Laird.
“Aye, we are here, and we wish an audience with ye, my laird,” Gavin said, he squeezed Amelia’s hand, hoping to reassure her.
“Seize th’ lass,” The Laird suddenly gave the order, not so much as acknowledging Gavin or his request for an audience.
He swung Amelia behind him and drew his sword. “No!” he shouted. “We only mean tae have a word with ye, Laird. We doona wish for any trouble. We came —”
“I ken why ye came. Laird Cabduh sent swift word that ye’d be bringing th’ witch this way. I’ll nay have it. ’Tis nay the problem of the MacLeods. We have no fight with ye, Gavin MacGille, but th’ lass will stay in th’ dungeon here until Cabduh’s main man arrives tae bring her back tae Cabduh tae face her justice.”
“NO!” Amelia screamed. She was pulled from behind Gavin as the Laird spoke by two large MacLeod clansmen. Gavin immediately turned and attacked one of the men. Six more charged forward.
It was not going to be a fair fight, but Gavin would not let Amelia be taken from him again.
Chapter Twenty-Six
Heavy arms held her tight. Amelia couldn’t see what was happening behind her, her eyes were fixed on Gavin. It was all happening so quickly. How has it come to this? She thought as she fought to free herself. How many men held her, one? Two? She watched in horror as six men descended on Gavin. He screamed for her.
“No, Gavin, don’t fight them, there’s too many!” she screamed back. Gavin let out a fierce growl as he ignored her, fighting the men off as best he could and losing.
Amelia watched in horror as Gavin quickly became overcome.
“Please, they’re hurting him!” she screamed.
“That’s it, lassie, tell ‘im to settle down, the Laird has no fight with yer man. It’s only ye th’ old mad laird wants returned.” One of the men holding her seemed confident enough that it calmed Amelia down enough to think. Amelia stopped fighting and looked up at the man. Could he be reasoned with? Could the Laird?
Two of the six men already held Gavin at bay, but he didn’t have the reach to defend himself from a third man who came from behind before Amelia could shout another word of warning, the third man took the hilt of his heavy sword and knocked Gavin to the ground, hard. She felt her own head explode in pain as if each blow to Gavin were a blow to her as well. It was Perth all over again, and just like Perth, four years before, Amelia was responsible and powerless to stop it. How could this keep happening to them? What had they done to deserve this type of torture?
“Please,” she begged the Laird, who watched with no visible reaction or emotion. “Please, tell your men to stop. He cannot fight so many men at once. Surely he’ll be killed.” She couldn’t tell if her pleas were carrying any weight with the man, but she had to keep trying. “It’s not worth it to start a war between our clans. I will not fight, I will go willingly, just please don’t hurt him anymore.” She strained against the men who held her, wanting nothing more than to rush to Gavin’s side. He was unconscious, yet aware enough to let out an anguished moan. He was in pain, and Amelia couldn’t prevent the tears from rolling down her cheeks. She would give anything to take his pain on as her own.
The Laird gave the men holding a limp Gavin a slight nod. Amelia wanted to know what it meant. Gavin was the strongest warrior she had ever seen, yet he was there before her, unconscious. She could not even go to him. Let him know she was there for him. And now they were about to take him somewhere, somewhere away from her.
“What will you do with him? Please!” she begged. The MacLeod men were larger, Gavin was outnumbered, but if she could secure his safety, it wouldn’t matter what happened to her, she could figure out a way to find her way back to him.
Laird MacLeod moved around the room. Amelia noticed the careful, purposeful way of his movement. This was a man accustomed to battle. When he stopped in front of her, she willed herself not to shake. He was a forceful man, maybe even more so than Gavin or Lucas. He had the presence and bearing of a man who has led his people for a long time in both war and peace.
“You look familiar to me, lass, have we crossed paths before?” he asked, lifting her chin so that she was forced to gaze into his deep blue eyes. She tried to fight and pull away, she didn’t want to lose sight of Gavin, but the Laird was strong, and he forced her to keep his stare.
“No, my laird.” She kept her tone still and fought against the fear and rage threatening to overcome her.
“Nay, I didnae think we had. I would remember a spirit like yours. But still, I cannae shake th’ familiar feeling I get when I look at ye.” A light struck Amelia. Could it be possible that the laird knew of her missing brother? Perhaps the boy had grown to favor their mother, just like Amelia and Ella had. She swallowed her fear and decided to speak directly. Any information she could glean from the man would be helpful, possibly for Gavin as well.
“They do say I favor my mother. She was English like me, but it is said she loved a Highlander. They had an affair, then she died—”
“Silence!” His face darkened before he turned away from her, waving his hand dismissively. Amelia’s heart sank. He must know something. Why else would he have reacted such a way? Yet, he would give her nothing. “Take her to the dungeon. Perhaps Cabduh is right, and she’s a witch after all.”
“Wait! What about Gavin? Please!”
“Take the MacGille lad to a guarded bedchamber,” he said without turning back to face her. “As soon as he is able, he will be sent home to his brother. Ye are right about one thing, lass, I’ve no desire in starting a clan war. Let the MacGilles deal with the Cabduhs over yer fate, not us.”
Amelia dropped her head. She had taken a risk, but her gamble didn’t pay off. They were no closer to finding out about her lost brother than when they started. At least Gavin would safe. She could take heart in that.
* * *
“Please, not the dungeon,” she pleaded with the man who chained her. He only tightened his grip and growled at her. “Please. I’m here only to speak with your laird about my family. I’m no witch. I’m no threat.” She tried to fight against the man, but he was an immovable wall. Was he laughing at her?
Another Macleod clansman, this one much older than the man who held her, and much older than the men who attacked Gavin, opened the door to a dark cell, and Amelia knew no amount of begging or pleading would keep her out of the dungeons. He turned to her, giving her a sad smile.
“That’s right, lass, go quietly. Doona fash, the Laird is nay a monster. Ye’ll have warm bedding and a hot meal. There are no rodents in our cells. It could be and will be much worse for ye as soon as the Cabduh comes fer ye.” He gently glided Amelia into the cell, and followed her in, lighting several wall torches for her before he closed the bars. They didn’t bind her to the walls as Laird Cabduh’s men did, so at least she had the freedom of movement. And the cell was as the older man said.
“Hush, William, doona speak tae th’ lass, ye heard she’s a witch.”
“I’m not a witch! I’m a healer!” she couldn’t help but interrupt if there was even a chance that one of these men could help her, she had to take it. William, now she had the older, kinder man’s name. “William, please! Laird Cabduh is mad, insane fr
om the grief of losing his wife to an illness. It was she, Lady Cabduh, who bade me come here, no one else.”
“Och, Lady Cabduh, ye say?” William asked, rising a brow. Now she was getting somewhere. She had an opening, and Amelia knew enough to take it. She needed to explain everything.
“Yes, there was so much I didn’t know. But I was sent to Cabduh after his lordship begged Laird MacGille for help with an illness. My sister is Lady MacGille.” William’s interest was fully on her now. “My sister is also a healer, but she is heavy with child, and Laird MacGille would not permit her to travel. So, I volunteered.”
