The Pirate Laird's Hostage (The Highland Warlord Series Book 3)

by Tessa Murran

  The mist was thinning, and she spotted a Cranstoun, looking for someone to kill. He was alone, exposed, and so close. She braced herself against the sway of the vessel. It was one thing to take down a deer from a hiding place on solid ground, quite another to hit a target with shaking hands, fear closing her throat and the ship swaying back and forth. And this was no deer.

  ‘Courage now,’ she whispered as she breathed out and fired at the man’s heart. Her arrow went wide and struck the mast beside him. The man did not see it, but he had heard it, and he turned and peered through the shifting fog. Morna loaded another arrow just as he bellowed and ran at her full pelt. She held until he was almost upon her, and fired.

  The arrow struck him in the heart, and he fell down, inches from her face, his face contorted in surprise and horror. She felt sick, her hands were shaking badly, the screams and shouts of fighting rushing in and out of her ears in waves. A soft beam of sunlight hit her face as both ships broke through the fog bank and into clear air. Morna searched desperately for Will but could not see him in the melee of broken bodies and men grappling with each other.

  She got a hold on herself and fired off several more arrows, hitting one man in the leg and another in the hand, making him drop his sword. The forecastle would provide a better view, so she made her way to it at a run. As she reached the top of the steps, two men fighting crashed into her, sending her sprawling back down them.

  Morna’s head hit the deck with a sickening crack, and everything went black.

  ***

  Will slapped Morna’s cheeks harder as her eyelids fluttered and her face twisted in pain. Suddenly she sucked in a huge breath and sat bolt upright, only to sway over into his arms.

  ‘Lie down, you hit your head hard and must rest.’

  ‘I cannot. The Cranstouns?’ she said, her breath catching.

  ‘Hush now. We are clear of them. We killed too many for them to fight on, and we managed to pull away from their ship.

  Morna put her hand up to her head and winced as her fingers found the lump the size of an egg in her hair.

  ‘Don’t my love, or you will make it bleed again,’ said Will.

  ‘So, Wymon got away?’ she gasped.

  ‘Aye, this time, but this latest treachery has only made me more resolved to crush him.’

  The sun had pierced the cloud some time ago, and the sea fret which had saved their lives had rolled on out to sea. The light in Morna’s eyes was such a relief to see, for she had been unconscious for an age, and Will had started to get worried.

  Morna looked up at him. ‘How many Will?’

  ‘Four men cut down, one unaccounted for, thought lost, over the side.’

  ‘I am so sorry, Will.’

  ‘Aye, well, it would have been more but for you and your bravery, and Cranstoun will pay for breaking the rules of a parley. Do not fash yourself, we are almost home.’ He held her close to his chest and put his chin on the top of her head. ‘My God, woman, you wield a bow as well as any man. Where did you learn to do that?’

  ‘I have two rough brothers and a big mouth, so learning to fight was a necessity growing up.’ Her voice was a whisper, and Will could tell that the fight had really affected her. ‘At Bannockburn, I felt so useless. Ravenna is a fighter, she would do anything, kill anyone who got between her and Cormac, but I knew I slowed her down when she was trying to get to him. I was soft and whining, and I hated myself for it.’ He stroked her hair in time to the creak of the ship rising up and down on the waves. ‘After that awful battle, Will, and what I saw lying out on that field, I was determined never to be defenceless and useless again, so I practised hard with the bow every day. I am an expert rabbit killer, deer too, but it is so different when it is a man.’

  ‘I know. It is an awful thing to slay a man, and you should feel it as such.’

  ‘Oh Will, everything hurts, inside and out. Tell me truly, am I going to hell now for what I did?’

  ‘No of course not,’ he said, kissing the top of her head gently. ‘You are a Bain now, and we never beg forgiveness for fighting to keep what is ours. If someone comes at you, then you must defend yourself with everything you have. I am so proud of you, and Morna, you have won the admiration of the men. They have been singing your praises, and Waldrick says he owes you his life.’

  Will stared out at the coastline as they rounded the headland. Fitheach, in all its stern glory, came into view. His home, and now he could finally share it with someone, and such a one as to make him the luckiest man alive.

  Morna was a woman worthy of a Bain Laird, but was he worthy of her?

  Her hand came up and clutched onto a fistful of his tunic, like a child clinging fast to its mother. Suddenly, Morna did not seem fierce, she was just a vulnerable, young woman, frightened, hurt and in need of his protection. Before, she had been something to possess, a trophy and a vessel for his lust, but now his world had changed. He loved her when he never thought he could love anything or anyone again. Something about the realisation made him feel ashamed to his core.

  ‘Will,’ she said, ‘did you mean what you said to me? Do I have your love?’

  ‘Aye, you have my love and, in fact, you have all of me, Morna, now and forever, I swear it.’

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Will shouted her name from above, but she could barely hear him over the rush of the waterfall surging down from the higher ground into the pool at her feet. She waved back at him, squinting into the sunlight and waded a little further into the water, so cold it set her feet to aching. Skye had been blessed with a rare sunny day, so Will had insisted on them riding out to see this place. He had told her it was beautiful, and he was right. They had followed the burn upwards towards the mountains and encountered a series of waterfalls tumbling into pools, some of which were turquoise and inviting, some deep and black.

  These last few weeks had been a blissful, carefree time, as they got to know each other better and deepened their affections. Morna’s bruises faded as her contentment grew. There had been walks along the cliff tops, hand in hand. At night they would sup in the great hall with eyes only for each other as if they were the only two people in the world. There were days spent abed, just entwined in each others bodies, as if they could devour each other, so great was their need. Will had opened up a whole new world of pleasure with his lovemaking, so skilful was he with his mouth, fingers, tongue, giving rise to more lust than a body could bear.

  Will had only to look at her, and it was as if all her clothes were stripped away and she was naked before his burning eyes. They would ride out all around the island, like today, and find secluded places and fall down on the grass and come together violently. Will’s lovemaking was sometimes as wild as the surging oceans around Fitheach and matched in ardour only by hers. Other times, his touch was so slow and so gentle, it was almost like worship and would bring Morna to the brink of tears, as though her heart were too full. Morna felt things, wanted things, which shamed and excited her equally. How glorious, dangerous and beautiful he was, and, best of all, Will belonged to her.

  ‘Watch me, Morna,’ he called out, stripping off his clothes and throwing them aside. He wasn’t going to jump was he, the fool?’

  As she looked at him, pale, hard and naked, his hair bright in the sunshine, so broad-shouldered and manly, Morna ached to touch him. Sometimes, in the company of the clansmen at Fitheach, it was like torture not to do so.

  He smirked at her and waved, and then threw himself off the edge, to come splashing down into the water. For an instant, he was submerged and then surfaced, with a lot of cursing, shaking his wet head, like a dog. He swam to the bank and emerged, deathly pale with cold and hobbled over the smooth stones towards her.

  ‘God’s teeth, that’s icy,’ exclaimed Will, through chattering teeth.

  ‘Then why did you do it, you fool,’ she laughed.

  ‘To impress you. Gods teeth, my cock is fit to drop off,’ he said, laughing and grabbing hold of her. ‘Perhaps you
can warm it up.’

  Morna put her hand between his legs. ‘I would if I could find it!’ she said.

  ‘Oh, you’ve a cruel tongue on you, how shall I punish you for your insolence?’ he laughed kissing her, all cold lips at first and then his hot tongue, parting hers.

  ‘You are getting me wet, you fool, and you are all cold and slippery, like a fish, get off.’

  ‘I am about to get you wetter,’ he said, pushing her back against a boulder and lifting her skirts.

  Morna flinched as his icy fingers found her, but she did not protest. She wanted this, she ached for this. She clutched at his back and dug her nails in hard as he entered her. ‘I love you, I want you, so very much,’ he growled against her mouth, and suddenly there was nothing but Will, and the blue sky above.

  By the time they got back to Fitheach, the sky had darkened, and a misty rain was falling. They ran into the great hall hand in hand in search of the fire to dry off and found Waldrick standing before it.

  ‘Ah, Waldrick, back from the mainland, my friend. What news?’ said Will smiling and squeezing her hand.

  Waldrick’s eyes shifted to hers and back to Will. ‘It has begun. Word has it that the English are marching for Berwick to mount an all-out siege, blockading the river and such. King Edward wants that town back, and he intends to have it, no matter what the cost. The Bruce is to counter-attack and is rallying men to arms.’

  ‘My brothers,’ gasped Morna, as the day spun into darkness.

  Will turned to her. ‘Go to our chamber and get yourself warm. I must speak with Waldrick.’

  ‘But Will, I have to know what will happen now.’

  ‘And you shall. I will be with you presently. Now go, please.’ He kissed her hands, cold as ice.

  Morna walked away on feet of lead. It was all happening again, another battle, the torture of weeks of worrying, the agony of not knowing if her loved ones were among the living or the dead. Lyall and Cormac would be in the vanguard of any force King Robert flung at the English, they would be vulnerable and, as usual, she was helpless.

  ***

  Will made sure Morna was gone before turning back to Waldrick. ‘Spill your news, my friend, and leave nothing out.’

  ‘Alright. I went to Stirling. They are already moving men and arms to Berwick. It is said the English are sending thousands of men to take it back. Ships are moving up the coast and making their way up river to attack the town. They can blockade it and choke the life out of it. The Bruce does not have enough men to repel them, and once they cut supply lines into the town, the garrison there will weaken.’

  ‘That will take time, which Edward does not have. Autumn is almost upon us and winter will be hard on its heels. His men will freeze to death and food will be scarce.’

  ‘He is well-provisioned, and he has mended fences with his cousin. We both know the Earl of Lancaster by reputation. ‘Tis said he covets the throne.’

  ‘Aye, and would make a more worthy occupant of it. He is a formidable force. If the peace between them holds, they could prove invincible. The other English nobles, what of them?

  ‘Rallying to Edward’s cause, the fools. This could spell defeat for Robert.’

  ‘What of our allies? What are they doing?’

  ‘Some, like Eadan, are throwing in their lot with King Robert.’

  ‘And our enemies?’

  ‘Most, like the Cranstouns, do not expect Robert to survive this latest challenge. They will await the outcome and then make peace with the victor, or stay out of it altogether, as is their way.’

  Will leaned his head against the fireplace, looking deep into the flames. ‘This folly by the English King, this prideful snatch at what was taken from him, it may well be the turning of the tide for us Waldrick.’

  ‘I don’t understand?’

  ‘It is simple, my friend - time for Clan Bain to pick a side.’

  ***

  Dusk was creeping in when Will found Morna in their bedchamber. Her face was grave, so Will braced himself. She came up to him and took his hands in hers. Shame gripped him, and he had to look away.

  ‘Tell me what is happening Will.’

  ‘What news I have, I fear you will not wish to here,’ he said solemnly, biting his lip.

  ‘Is it my brothers? Has something happened to them? Waldrick would not look me in the eye. It is bad, isn’t it?’

  ‘Not yet, but it could be. Waldrick has no news of your brothers as such, other than to say that Berwick will be under siege any day now. As leaders of King Robert’s army, we must assume they will be defending it with everything they have.’

  ‘No,’ she said, shaking her head.

  ‘There is no escaping it, Morna. They are warriors, so it is their place to fight, as it is mine. I have come to tell you that I will be leaving in a day or two, as soon as preparations can be made and I can rally my other ships and provision them.’

  ‘Leaving? Where are you going?’

  ‘To Berwick.’ As he said it aloud, his determination hardened. There was no escaping the storm about to break now.

  ‘Berwick? I don’t understand.’

  ‘I am going to fight, Morna.’

  ‘No, you are not!’ she gasped, withdrawing her hands from his.

  ‘I am going to find your brothers and get an audience with the King, where I will offer him my men and my ships in the coming fight. He will need them to keep control of the town.’

  ‘Have you gone mad? Why are you saying this? It is not your place to fight for Robert, you hate him.’

  ‘I am not fighting for Robert, I am fighting for you and for Clan Bain and aye, even your brothers. In the end, perhaps for Scotland herself.’

  ‘But you have always said you owe allegiance to no man. You stay out of all this foolishness and waste. That is how to survive this war.’

  ‘And when it is all over, do I look back and rejoice that it is their blood spilt, and not mine?’

  ‘No, but you will be safe and so will Clan Bain. It terrifies me that my brothers will be in the thick of this fight, but they are determined to do it, I cannot stop them.’

  ‘As you cannot stop me, Morna.’

  ‘They made their choice, and they have pledged to King Robert. But you owe him nothing, not loyalty, not ships, and certainly not your life.’

  ‘And what do I owe the people here, and you? Do you know what shame does to a man, Morna? It eats away at his soul until there is nothing left. I have been named outlaw, traitor, coward, by the King and by Cormac and others. I have murdered and plundered to become wealthy and powerful, and here I sit, in my castle, smug and safe, while all around me Scotland burns. None of it means anything if I cannot hold my head up with pride.’

  ‘There is no pride in fighting for a man who took your whole life away from you.’

  ‘If he took it away, he can also give it back. Trust me, I am not fighting for him, I am fighting for you and the future of this clan and the man I want to be for you. For so many years, I have felt that I owed the world nothing, Morna, not kindness nor honour nor loyalty. I let my bitterness scour all that from my soul and, no matter how much wealth I amassed, how many women I lay with, how many enemies I killed, I could never feel satisfied. That shame, of failing my family, that rage, at the man who ruined them, kept me in darkness, hating myself. But you have led me to the light, and my path is clear. None of what I have means anything if I hate who I am, and I can never feel worthy of you if I do not do this.’

  ‘By staying out of this madness, you are worthy of me. You are the clever one, you have pledged to no one.’

  ‘What glory is there in clever? If I fail here, it will press on me in the years to come.’

  ‘Glory, you say. Glory is an empty thing. Glory does not resurrect the dead nor comfort the grieving. I care not a jot for your precious glory, I just want you safe here, with me. I love you, Will, so much. Please do not throw your life away for nothing.’

  ‘Morna, if I do not go, and I fail to rally to
his cause when King Robert prevails he will turn his eyes to these Isles and the clans who turned their backs on him when he needed them. I’ve lived through Robert’s retribution, and it is not pretty. What kind of Laird am I if I can’t keep my people safe? I have to do this to ensure our future, so do not make it hard for me, I beg you.’

  ‘I will never forgive you if you do this, Will. I have asked nothing of you. I do not want wealth or position or power over you. I seek only to be by your side. You made me love you, Will. You gave me everything to lose, and it will tear me in two if you die. I am ordering you to stay with me. This is not your fight, and I will not be turned to some weeping widow, pacing the walls of Fitheach, looking out to sea for a ship that will never return.’

  ‘Morna, it is a fortunate man who wins your heart and I…’

  ‘Then why are you throwing it into a firestorm? You know what my life has been, for as long as I can remember. People use me to hurt my brothers, and they will die soon, it is just a matter of time, for this war for Scotland goes on and on. It will not end until it makes widows of us all. Before I met you, I had no hope of happiness and, were I ever to find it, I knew it would not last. So I guarded my heart, Will. I did not give in to love just so that I could see it shattered. Please, Will, I am begging you.’

  ‘I will return to you, safe and sound, I swear.’

  ‘You cannot swear that, and you know it.’ Morna walked away from him and went over to the window. On the horizon, the day was bleeding into night. ‘I hope you survive this folly Will Bain, but if you do this awful thing, if you break us like this, do not expect me to be here when you return.’

  ‘You don’t mean that.’

  ‘I do, I mean every word,’ she said, hugging her arms around her tightly.

  Sadness took him. ‘Then there is nothing left for us to say, for I must do this so that I can live with myself,’ he said, turning on his heel and walking away.

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Will stared up at the ceiling with his hand behind his head. For hours, sleep had eluded him as his resolve faltered, and the fire in the hearth fire burned down to its embers. The candles guttered in the wind coming off the sea, drafts whining in under the door and through the shutters. He pulled the furs up around him. How cold his bed was without her in it, tempting him, delighting him, loving him. Perhaps Morna was right, he was a fool to give up what he had for a lost cause, and for honour. The world had never shown him any of that, so why did he seek it now?