April Holthaus - The MacKinnon Clan 02 (19 page)

Pressing her back up against it, she waited to see if she had alarmed the guards of her presence. After a few minutes, she peeked around the pole to see if all was clear. The guards continued to be distracted. Taking in a deep breath, she ran as fast as she could to the next pole.

Lara could feel the hairs on her arms raise and her heartbeat quicken. She had made it this far and now she was only a few more feet away from freedom. She prayed that this attempt would work. It had been so long since she breathed in the crisp fresh air and felt the earth beneath her feet.

As soon as she was able to look back at the guards, she heard the jingle sound of a chain coming from the stairs that led to the dungeon. The guards jumped from their chairs and ran over to the staircase to inspect the noise. Lara used the distraction and ran to the alcove of the door.

Carefully, she turned the handle. Peeking through the crack, she could see the tree line ahead. If she could make it, she would be free at last.

“What do you think you are doing?” one of the guards yelled from across the room.

Lara panicked when she heard a loud painful moan followed by heavy breaths from behind her. Turning back, she saw the two guards engaged in a fight. A crack to the jaw bone, a jab to the stomach, the warrior fell to his knees as his two attackers circled around him and mocked him for his failed attempt.

Lara’s heart ached for him. Just as she thought his luck had run out, the warrior grabbed onto the back of one of the guard’s legs causing him to go crashing down onto the floor. Bringing his fist up high into the air, he swung down making contact with the guard’s nose. Lara saw the blood as it spilled down the man’s face. 

The other guard grabbed onto the warrior’s arms, but the warrior twisted his upper torso, tossing the man off of him. After a few swings and punches, he was able to render the second guard unconscious.

Goosebumps covered her flesh as the warrior limped towards her. He was taller than she had expected. From the dim light, all she could tell was that he had long hair, broad shoulders and a thin waistline. Still unable to make out his face, she watched as he looked past her out the door. 

“Go. Now, and follow me,” he whispered as he pushed her through the door and started running towards the dense forest.

The blackness of night made it hard for Lara to dodge the low branches of the trees. She could feel the small cuts sting her cheeks as twigs slashed across her face. But that did not slow her down. Too dark to see even a few feet ahead of her, Lara was uncertain who she was following or where he was taking her, but she trusted him completely.

It had only been about a week that she shared the hellish pit with him. When he first arrived she recalled that it took more than one guard to lock him in his cell. He was fierce and unwilling to go freely. It had caused a riot that day. Lara hid in her corner and was grateful that the men left her alone.

Even with the warrior’s injuries, Lara had a hard time keeping up with him. He was fast and physically in better shape than she was. Tripping over the rummage of the forest floor, Lara tumbled forward catching herself with her hands and collapsing down to her knees. The warrior witnessed her fall and ran back to her. Lifting her under her arms, he helped her to her feet.

“Are ye alright? Are ye hurt?” he asked.

“I am fine. Thank ye,” she replied panting trying to catch her breath.

“We must keep goin’,” he said as he wrapped his arm across her slender shoulder and together they continued to walk at a faster pace.

Silently, they walked for miles within the dark woods until they came across the distinct smell of food carried on the wind. After not having a hot meal in what seemed like forever, Lara picked up her pace. The delectable smell made her stomach growl.

As they crept further, they came upon a small dwelling. The home was made of stone and mud and the thatched roof was in need of replacing. On the back side of the house was a wooden barn that housed two horses that Lara could see and a few chickens pecking at the ground.

Her first instinct was to escape with one of the horses. As the warrior began walking towards the barn, he too must have had the same idea. As they drew closer towards the barn, the chickens began clucking loudly and flapping their wings as if it was feeding time. Lara nervously ran back to the trees when she heard a noise coming from the house.

“Who goes there?” an old woman yelled out in a hoarse voice.

“I apologize, my lady, I dinna mean to disturb ye,” the warrior replied.

“Are ye the mon, McGregor sent lookin’ fer work? I was told that ye would be a few days away.”

“Nay, my lady. I am just passing through. I have come to ask fer food and shelter.”

“Have ye any coin?” she rudely asked.

“Nay, my lady.”

Lara watched as the old woman looked the warrior up and down. Piercing her lips and looked at him very carefully.

“Well, if ye canna pay me then ye will work fer yer meal.”

“Thank ye, my lady,” the warrior said as he bowed his head to her.

As he bowed, the old woman looked past him beyond the trees and stared into Lara’s frightened eyes.

“Who is that there wit ye? Come here, so I can have a look at ye.”

“A friend, my lady,” he replied.

Lara felt stunned that he would call her a friend; a woman he did not even know. Inwardly she smiled, that he had shown concern for her welfare.  Lara slowly came out of the darkened covering of the trees and stepped closer to the woman. Her stomach tightened as the old woman looked at her. Her eyes shot open in surprise and her facial expression looked appalling.

Lara waited for the woman to react and dismiss her, as so many others had. She knew that she was too thin and ugly. Her ragged clothes were torn in shreds and her hair was cut as short as a lads. Keeping her arms close to her side and kept her head lowered.

“Good Heavens lass, what happened to ye?”

Lara did not know how to respond. She knew nothing of this woman and did not know whether or not she could trust her. Feeling ashamed, she remained silent. Glancing over to the warrior, he looked at her as if he too waited for a response. Still, in the dim light of night, she could only feel his stare.

“The lass can sleep inside. As fer ye, there should be plenty of hay fer ye in the barn. Tomorrow morning I expect ye to have the horses brushed down and the chickens fed. There is also work to be done out in the fields. We can go over the work I expect to be done in the morning,” the woman said to him.

“Thank ye, my lady.”

Lara followed the old woman to the front of the house. Before turning the corner, the woman turned her head back to the warrior.

“Laddie, what do they call ye?”

“Bram, my lady. Bram MacKinnon.”

Book One of the MacKinnon Clan Series

The Honor of a Highlander

Chapter 1

Late August

Argyll, Scotland 1297

“Bollocks,” Annella cried out after pricking her finger with the needle again. This had been her third time having to repair her blue and green arisaid.

Berta cleared her throat and gave Annella a solemn look of disappointment. “That is no’ a way for a lady to speak.”

Annella peered up at Berta and gave her a sour expression when she was not looking.

“How did ye ruin yer plaid this time?”

“I dinna ruin it, it ripped while I was riding up the hill. It got snagged on a tree branch,” she replied with a dreadful look upon her face, waiting for one of Berta’s never-ending lectures. Berta had been her maid ever since she was a wee lass and had a history of being short-tempered.

“After ye get done, there will be nothing left of it. Come now lass, ye must get dressed and fix that unruly hair of yers. Yer father has visitors coming today and he is expecting ye to be down in the great hall.” She walked over to the wooden chest at the end of the bed and pulled out a fresh chemise and gown. “I will fix yer plaid while ye get dressed.”

With a smug look on her face, she slowly got up and took her time dressing. Another suitor? Even the thought of it made her stomach cringe. Over the past several months, her father had invited suitors for her to meet in hopes that she would agree to marry one of them without dispute.

Laird Stewart, the last man who came, smelled vile and was much older than her. She could still recall the nausea she felt. He was angry that he had ridden all the way just to be rejected. Her father had compensated the man for his travels but Laird Stewart said that he would be back again after the harvest season when she changed her mind. But that was never going to happen. Annella would gladly join a convent before ever marrying him.

She pulled her chemise over her head and picked up the green gown Berta had laid down on the bed. If only I was a lad, I would ne’er have to marry if I dinna want to…the thought made her smile.

Berta came up behind her to tighten the laces on the back of her dress. “Why do ye keep running up that wretched hillside anyways? It’s steep and ye could get hurt.”

“I enjoy riding my horse, that’s all,” she lied.

Berta came to her front, lowered her head and looked at her underneath her eyelashes. She knew her reason for running off and knew it had nothing to do with riding.

Riding to the top of the hillside was Annella’s favorite place to be alone. She could see a far distance of her beautiful countryside that overlooked the rolling green hills and the vast forest below. To her, it was freedom.

“My lady, ye cannae keep running off every time a mon comes to ask fer yer hand. Ye are already nineteen and it’s about time to be looking for a husband. Just take a look at Nessa, she found herself a fine mon. It may no’ be the love match ye speak of but she will learn to love him overtime, just as ye will with yer husband.”

“Berta, I am no’ Nessa. Is it too much to ask for a marriage to be bound by love instead of obligation? What if the mon I am forced to marry is an awful mon and ne’er even loves me?”

“Ach, my lady, dreams are lovely but they are no’ real. True love matches are rare and dinna come around verra often. Fer a lady, all ye can hope fer is a mon with a good name who can offer ye protection,” she replied as she softly touched Annella’s cheek.

“I dinna need protection, Berta, I have my horse and my bow. No’ to mention that I can best any mon who challenges me.”

“Aye, I ken ye can, lass. Ye have grown up so much, Annella. Yer mother would have been verra proud of ye. It’s been hard on yer father all these years trying to raise two daughters alone. And he feels that ye would be better taken care of if ye had a husband.”

“Aye, I suppose so.”

“I ken so. Now ye get downstairs before yer father gets in one of his moods.”

Annella nodded and walked down the stairs sulking. She didn’t want whoever the potential husband was to think of her as an eager bride, just the opposite. So she took her time, slowly taking each step one at a time.  

Rory knew that gathering supplies at Dunstan Castle would be beneficial. They were only able to carry enough food and supplies for several days at a time. The laird of Dunstan Castle, Laird Hamish MacCallum had been good friends with his father for most of his life before he passed two summers ago.

Rory sat at the head of the table in the great hall with Laird Hamish. The room was smaller than his back at Dunakin and less furnished.  It was dim and the walls were bare. It became apparent to Rory that the MacCallum clan did not have much coin to buy such luxurious things.

“Laird MacCallum, another attack on Scottish soil is imminent. Messengers have reported all throughout the lowlands that English troops have been spotted burning villages and pillaging. William Wallace is revolting. He fights for our freedom. I have come to ask for men to join us and supplies for our journey.”

“Call me Hamish lad,” he said and then looked to address his guard, Alastair, “Talk wit the men. If they choose to leave and fight I will give ‘em my blessing.”

“Aye, my laird,” Alastair replied.

“What of Wallace? I hear that he fights with common men. What of the other lairds and earls?” Hamish asked.

“Right now verra few join us. Longshanks claims he offers peace by giving them property in England if they will follow him, but he is full of lies and deceit. He has raised the taxes to support his war against France and e’en they are talking about joining the rebellion against him. Wallace will take any mon who is willing to fight for our freedom, and his numbers are growing.”

“I will see what I can do,” Hamish replied.

While discussing terms with Hamish, in the corner of his eye appeared the loveliest sight he had ever seen. A beautiful young lass he had not had the honor to meet.

She was wearing a long tight-fitted dark green dress that dragged on the floor behind her. She either lacked the skills of sewing or the previous owner had been a little taller than this wee creature standing at the bottom of the stairs. He continued talking with his host while nonchalantly taking glances in her direction.

She started to walk slowly in their direction. Her long reddish-brown hair was loosely braided and a few locks of hair had rested over her shoulders. The ends curled and slightly cupped each side of her small breasts. His eyes traced down the shape of her body, over her curvy hips and slender legs all the way down to the small slippers peeking out from under the dress.

He nodded to Laird Hamish in her direction to acknowledge the bonny lass walking towards them. Hamish nodded in agreement and they both stood and walked over to greet her.

Annella sighed and continued her way towards the dais where her father was talking to Alastair and another man she did not recognize. He glanced her way but did not seem to take notice of her. They must have been in very deep conversation, she assumed.

The man was definitely from the Highlands, she told herself. He had the same strong brogue accent that her father had. She was good at distinguishing Highlanders from lowlanders because when she went to the lowlands to visit her grandfather, she could hear in his accent that he had an English tone when he said certain words.