Highland Escape (31 page)

They quickly arrived at the loch and found signs of a struggle and two men dead. Duncan froze, unable to breathe or think. The angry words he spoke rang in his ears, damning him with every breath. Now she’d been taken, no doubt injured, as she would never go willingly. He couldn’t bear the pain threatening to consume him. Callum’s screams for help rang in his ears as he again saw his brother’s head disappear below the turbulent waters for the last time.

Tavish’s voice broke through. “Captain, what do ye want done?”

Duncan scrubbed his face with the heels of his hand and considered the possibilities for a moment before answering. “Send a man back and report to the laird, the rest on me now!”

With as much as a two-hour head start, he spurred
Lasair
as if a pack of
cu sith
nipped at his tail. The men who took Anna rode hard, making their trail easy to follow. Duncan needed no tracks to know their destination.

Once Duncan’s men realized what had happened, who held her, they required no further incentive. They rode as one, stopping only long enough to rest and water their horses. Duncan was humbled by the loyalty Anna had earned, and shamed knowing his men understood the reason she’d been alone when captured. The hard, angry looks he received said they knew of his actions, and also knew she would bear the brutal cost.

By the time MacNairn keep came into view, gates had been lowered behind the group of riders they’d been chasing, sealing off the approach to the castle. Duncan felt the black shudders of rage threatening to overtake him as he surveyed the shuttered keep. To his surprise, Trean limped along the trail just ahead. Duncan reined his horse beside the injured beast. Blood was visible on one shoulder and he favored his front leg.

“Here, laddie, let me see to yer wound.” He reached for the pup, but Trean growled in response, backing away from him. The cut on his shoulder appeared to be superficial, and Duncan let him go. Anna’s wolf had pronounced judgment upon him, also. Trean
paced just inside the tree line, his limp and mournful whine heaping another measure of guilt on Duncan’s heart.

He turned back to his men. “Tavish, send two men back to the laird and report what has happened. The rest remain here and watch. Iain and I will travel to the Stewart laird. If it takes my last breath, we will raze this heap of stones to the ground.”

Digging his heels into his horse’s side, Duncan drove
Lasair
to his limit, arriving at his grandda’s keep hours later, both he and his steed sweat-soaked and spent.

His grandfather granted him an immediate audience, fire lighting his eyes as Duncan related Anna’s capture by the MacNairns. Aeneas Stewart rose from his chair in the great hall.

“Assemble the men. Load the siege weapons into their wagons. ’Tis time to put an end to MacNairn!”

His roar sent everyone flying into motion, giving Duncan hope he’d hardly dared look for. He’d been but a lad the last time he’d seen his grandda this angry.

It took a full day to gather the necessary equipment and supplies for the siege. Before they finished, his da and the MacGregor men arrived at the Stewart keep. Riding as hard as the wagons allowed, it took another day and a half for the gathered force to reach the MacNairn fortress.

* * *

Anna floated in nothingness. She heard faint voices at the edge of her mind and felt an odd sensation. Something about the voices sounded urgent, insistent, demanding her attention. She wanted nothing more than to resist them, fading back into the blissful state she enjoyed. After some time passed, the odd sensation returned again and with it, the command of voices that would not leave her alone.

Perhaps if she answered them, they would allow her to retreat back into the velvety blackness. Deciding to awake long enough to respond, Anna struggled to reach the surface of consciousness where her body awaited. She found herself deeper than she realized, frightened at how far she had gone. Somehow she knew she wasn’t far from the place of no returning.

The strange sensation repeated, this time followed by a sputtering sound.

“Ah, she finally awakens.”

The voice was closer, and the strange sensation she now realized was someone splashing water on her. Immediately, a burning sensation shot from her head to her toes. Anna struggled to open her eyes, gain her bearings, to understand what had happened, but her body refused to obey her.

“Hello, my pet. Welcome to yer new home.”

Squinting, Anna attempted to see the speaker in the semi-darkness, tried to make sense of his words as pain threatened to pull her back to unconsciousness. She hissed at the intensity of it, a throbbing stab of hundreds of needles. Was she on fire? She looked for evidence of flames but saw none. Surely she’d been captured and brought to the Earl of Northumberland’s castle, but the man in front of her was neither the earl nor his son. His long red hair held streaks of gray. His face suggested he would be a few years older than her father. More importantly, she recognized he spoke Gaelic, not English.

“New home?” Her weak, slurred words sounded foreign to her ears.

“Aye, my pet. Ye are finally home. Soon we shall be wed.” His voice held eagerness—his eyes, madness.

Something about his statement proved more than her mind could process, and Anna slipped back into the silky darkness.

* * *

“Ye great idiot! I wanted her brought back unharmed, not brained! Tis already been two days. At this rate, ’twill be a sennight before she is well enough to stand on her own to make her vows!”

Shrinking at his laird’s anger, the man held up his hands in an effort to pacify his chief. “She had already killed two men, m’laird. I dinnae want anyone to run her through in revenge. Ne’er had to knock a lass cold before. I dinnae know ’ow hard to hit her.”

’Twas true enough. This hellcat killed two of the men he’d sent to fetch her, and had killed others before. Stories about the lass hadn’t been exaggerated. His plans, however, required her to be awake with enough of her wits about her to respond to the priest, with no time to wait for her to convalesce. Even now men searched for her—of this, he was certain.

Once the vows were spoken and the marriage consummated, he didn’t care who knew. He only needed to keep her away from MacGregor until then.

* * *

The pain in Anna’s head demanded attention. Darkness gave way to muted light that pierced her eyes. Remembering the struggle at the loch, details of her abduction came trickling back. With Herculean effort, she pushed herself upright. She gently probed the side of her head, seeking the source of pain, and encountered a three-inch gash on her temple, the rough, puckered skin poorly sewn shut.

No salve had been applied. By the smell and looks of this hole they’d locked her in, infection seemed imminent. Slowly, she glanced around, blinking to get her eyes working correctly, fatigue and pain sapping her strength. The cell she sat in was one of many. With thick iron bars separating each, they were little more than cages. Her movement must have alerted a guard, as activity sounded outside the door.

A foul-smelling, unkempt man wearing a short sword and set of keys slid a loaf of bread under a slot in the bars. He placed a tall ewer of water through the bars and grunted at her. She didn’t move or react, but watched him saunter out the door. Drawing on inner strength, she reached for the bread.

The hard bread had spots of gray and green mold. Not knowing the day, Anna could not recall the last time she put anything in her mouth. Even the look of moldy bread awakened a hungry beast threatening to claw its way out of her belly. She picked away the mold, broke the loaf and inspected it for worms or weevils. Finding none, she forced herself to eat. Sniffing the water before she tasted it, she took a long drink and washed down the stale bread.

After an hour or so passed, the outer door opened again. The older man she’d seen before strode in. This time, two armed guards accompanied him.

“Are ye awake for certain now, my dear?” His grin revealed a mouthful of brown, crooked teeth that matched his sallow, pocked skin.

Anna stared at him for a moment, trying to form words. “Who are you, and why have you imprisoned me?” Her voice was no more than a dry croak.

An evil twist spread across his face. “We are to be wed, my pet.”

She stared at him in disbelief, her breath hitching. “Wed? I am betrothed to Duncan MacGregor. The banns have been called. Who are you?”

His smile widened into something more sinister. “Aye, well ye are here, now. Our marriage will give ye the opportunity to replace what ye took from me.”

“I have no idea what you speak of. I will never marry you.”

His smile hardened into a sneer. “Ye will marry me and bear my heir.” The effort he had made to remain calm dropped, his tone a snarl. “Take her.”

The two guards placed manacles on her ankles and wrists, and half-walked, half-dragged her out of the dungeon. Her head throbbed and dizziness overwhelmed her, making her unsteady on her cold, bare feet.

They ascended a long stair, through a heavy door, arriving outside into the full sun. The brightness blinded her, increasing the stabbing pain in her head. As her eyes slowly adjusted to the light, Anna saw they walked toward a chapel. She realized his intent, but knew he couldn’t legally force her to marry. They would have to kill her. In her present condition, it would be a short journey to death.

The man faced her. “Consider yer words carefully, my pet. Yer choices will decide how ye are treated from here on. Either way, ye
will
bear my heir—that much is certain. A legitimate heir is preferable, but a bastard will do.” His lips returned to their sneer, and his over-bright eyes proclaimed his madness.

Anna blanked her expression, saying nothing. As they entered the stone structure, a priest stood at the altar. His expression went from one of nervousness to horror when he took in her appearance and shackles.

Anna’s captor inclined his head to the priest. “Father, ’tis time.”

The priest glanced quickly at the man, swallowing whatever words came to him, and began the ceremony.

Anna was caught in her worst nightmare, forced into marriage to an evil man who only wanted her to bear his son. Closing her ears to the priest’s words, she clung to her love for Duncan. She chose to ignore their bitter parting, replaying only pleasant events in her mind, controlling her instinct to panic.

“Do ye, Baen MacNairn, solemnly vow…”

MacNairn! She was captured by the MacNairn laird? What he’d said earlier now made sense. He’d somehow discovered she’d killed his son, Adair, when he’d stolen Nessa. Her gaze locked onto his face. He gave her toothy smile.

The priest turned from MacNairn and now spoke to her. “Do ye?”

Steeling her gaze, Anna answered, “No, I do not. I would rather die than marry a beast such as this.”

The priest’s eyes bugged outward in terror and he shrank back.

MacNairn turned to the holy man. “Thank ye, father. Yer services are no longer required.” Grabbing her arm, he roughly dragged Anna back to her cell. Throwing her down, he slammed the door. “Rot in here a few more days. Ye will soon beg me to marry ye.” He spat on her, turned and left.

Chapter 25

By the end of the third day, Duncan ensured all were in place and ready for attack. Sweeping through the village took less than a day, as MacNairn had left few soldiers to protect his people. Most of his warriors gathered behind his stone walls, guarding his worthless hide. The villagers gave little resistance once they saw the size of the combined force mounted against them, and several voiced relief to discover an army had come to remove their laird from his fortress, welcoming the end of his rule of neglect and cruelty.

It took all the discipline Duncan possessed to stay in position outside the walls, knowing Anna was imprisoned there. He feared he would lose his mind from worry, anxiety gnawing a fiery hole in his belly. MacNairn had held his Anna, his heart, for four days. Anything could have happened to her, if indeed she still lived.

The lairds and captains assembled for a meeting. After much discussion, Kenneth MacGregor took control and they formulated a plan.

“We will wait until midnight to begin the assault. With four trebuchets positioned around the walls, the attack will come from three sides. Two will focus on the front gate and wall where the main MacNairn force gathers. They will think we try to weaken their defenses and force entry there. The other two will focus on the tower and buildings from the east and the west.

“Duncan will lead twenty men over the south wall with ropes and grappling hooks. The smoke and fire should create enough confusion to mask yer approach. Find Anna then leave the way ye came. We will avoid the back of the keep.”

Duncan felt the gaze of all three lairds.

“Five of his group will be my men,” Elliot added, his voice leaving no room for refusal.

Duncan nodded.

The plan was simple enough. Burn MacNairn to the ground and free Anna while doing so. Duncan picked a score of men to accompany him, including fifteen of the MacGregor men Anna had trained. The five Elliot men included her uncle and cousins. Now, only the torturous wait until midnight remained.

* * *

When Anna next woke, she found leather straps attached to the posts of the bed bound her wrists. Dressed only in her short shift and braies, she knew her helpless position spoke of MacNairn’s intent. Shivers of revulsion rippled down her spine to think of the man’s hands on her as he undressed her while she lay unconscious. With no soreness between her legs, or sign of blood on the bed she could see, she knew nothing carnal had happened—yet. A hasty scan of the small room showed no sign of her belongings or any other clothing.