Binding Vows (29 page)

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“Nay, my lady. They don’t tell me these things.

I’m sure ’tis nothing ye can do. Sit, sit.” Alice shuffled her to a chair. “Let me feed ye and the wee lass or lad ye’re carrying.”

Dutifully, Tara sat.

Alice hurried off to the kitchen and returned with a plate full of food.

Eating it proved difficult, despite her hunger.

Something was wrong. She could feel it.

****

They smelled the scene long before they came upon it. Over the scent of rain soaked trees, surrounding the clearing in the woods, fresh blood and the stench of death penetrated the air.

“Who would do such a thing?” Ian absorbed the pathetic waste of life spread out before him.

“I know not, my Lord. Whoever did this must be mad.” Gregor held back a gag.

She had been dead for at least a day, no more or the animals in the woods would have found her. Her limbs were stiff and grey as the clouds above.

All three men had seen their share of death, on the battlefield and in life. But what lay before them was beyond any carnage they had experienced.

The young woman’s hands were bound. A dark cloth concealed her face and eyes. Bruising was evident on her exposed legs and arms. Her ripped and bloody clothing lay in shreds. Her neck had been slit exactly as the farmer had said. But the blood did not pool where she lay.

Instead, it had been used.

A circle had been carved in the soil. The woman’s blood filled the groove. The points of a star jutted from beneath her corpse. The smell of sulfur choked the air.

It was the scene of a ritual, a horror not seen in this land for decades.

Fin noticed the small chain on the woman’s neck 251

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and felt the fleeting sickness of recognition.

Behind them, the young squire accompanying them made sounds of fear.

The old farmer diverted his eyes. He jumped at the sound of a squirrel in a tree.

The wind rustled leaves from the forest floor.

Their eyes shot in every direction and both appeared ready to flee at the first sign of trouble.

“Gregor, go.” Ian nodded to the boy and farmer.

“Calm their fears while I consult with my son.”

“Aye, my lord.”

Fin took off the dark cloth covering the lass’s face. He closed his eyes and swallowed hard.

Alyssa.

“Father,” he said in hushed tones. “I know this girl.” “Aye, I recognize her.” Ian clicked his tongue.

“Her grandfather was one of us.”

They spoke her name together as soon as the thought emerged. “Grainna.”

“It has to be, but how?” Fin stood and removed his cloak.

“I know not. But this is exactly what’s described when stories of Grainna are told. If Grainna is here, then your mother’s vision and Myra’s need to leave all makes sense.”

Fin glanced at his father. “Thank God, Myra’s safe!”

“Do you think Grainna broke her curse?” Ian asked.

Fin remembered the last time he had been with Alyssa, her smile. “Nay, if the curse is broken, ‘twas not done with this lass.”

“How can you be sure?” Ian glanced at him.

Loss punched Fin hard in the gut. “She was no virgin.” He turned from his father, strode to his horse, removed the blanket, and laid it on her. “I will tell her parents.”

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Ian put a reassuring hand on his shoulder. “I can see this done, Fin.”

“I have to do this.”

His father didn’t ask questions or press for information.

“We should clean this up. We don’t want folk to panic.”

Ian instructed Gregor to escort the farmer back to his home, then return with his squire so a grave could be dug.

Finlay and Ian set fire to the grass once the others had gone, burning all evidence of the ritual away.

Unwilling to let Alyssa’s parents witness the violence of her death, Fin removed her necklace to give to them. Once Gregor had returned, and her grave was dug, he set out to deliver the shocking news.

****

Tara, acting as lady of the house, consulted with Alice about preparations for dinner. She spent a good portion of her day directing servants. They needed to remove tapestries and take them outside for winter cleaning before bad weather set in.

Once everyone was busy with her instructions she tried her hand at knitting to keep busy. She was all too happy to put it down when young Jacob, Duncan’s squire, announced a visitor.

“Lady MacCoinnich, sorry to barge in on ye.”

Behind him stood Matthew of Lancaster.

“That’s quite all right, Jacob. Sir Matthew, what can I do for you? Were we expecting you?” Tara hadn’t been told he was coming. A silent alarm went off in her head.

“Nay, my lady, I was traveling this way when I ran into Lords Ian and Fin. ’Tis a problem.” He looked around the room, lowered his voice. “A problem they need ye for.”

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Her unease from earlier returned. “What kind of problem?”

“I was asked to bring ye to them. They didn’t want me to announce what I’ve seen. They said ’tis a private
family matter.
” His eyes shifted to the door.

“We should hurry.”

“Of course. Jacob, have my horse readied.” She turned to Lancaster. “I’ll grab my cloak.”

Outside Jacob held her horse with a nervous hand.

She pulled herself into the saddle.

“My lady,” Jacob said, looking up at her with worry etched on his features. “Lord Duncan asked that ye not leave the Keep.”

Tara smiled to give him some ease. Ease she didn’t feel. “I’m on my way to Laird Ian now. Don’t fret. I’m safe with Sir Lancaster.”

“Mayhap another knight should also escort ye, my lady?”

Tara considered the lad’s suggestion, then remembered the words ‘family matter,’ and thought twice about bringing more people to witness the problem.

“I won’t be long, Jacob.” She didn’t give him more time to talk or question. She turned her horse and followed Lancaster. Worry and fear filled her.

Duncan was so far away she couldn’t sense him, let alone speak to him with her mind. She cursed their decision to send him away.

They set out toward the village. Once under the cover of woods, Lancaster changed direction to one she wasn’t familiar with.

So many things raced through her head. She pleaded in her mind for Duncan to return. She couldn’t tell if her thoughts reached him. “What did you see?”

Matthew looked at her and speeded up his mount, making talk impossible. “We should hurry,”

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he told her again.

They journeyed deeper into the forest.

****

Duncan and Lora moved daily to keep anyone who might notice off their track. Not that they thought anyone watched. If anything, all had been quiet.

Too quiet
. Lora fretted within.

Neither of them was able to talk with their spouses because of the distance. And on this day, they moved well beyond emotions, as well.

They both felt the pull to go back, yet neither acted on it. Instead, they made camp by a stream and waited another day before they started home.

Duncan fished by the stream while Lora dozed.

A dream swept her away until it erupted into a vision.

In her head, she saw Tara riding into the woods.

Above her, faces of the Ancients floated, all of them yelling warnings.

Warnings Tara didn’t hear.

A cabin emerged. Inside was a presence Lora instantly knew was Grainna. A darkened mass threw its shadow over Grainna’s evil form and choked off her vision. But not before she saw Tara in the woman’s clutches.

Lora woke screaming, shivering in a sweat.

Panicked, she jumped to her feet and ran to her son.

****

Duncan turned in alarm at the sound crashing through the brush. His mother ran to him, out of breath and collapsed at his feet. She warned him,

“We have to return. I had a vision.”

Alarm slithered through him like a snake in tall grass. In an instant, he knew his mother was about to reveal his worst nightmare. “What is it? Is Myra returning?”

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She shook her head. “Nay, ’tis Tara. Duncan...”

A sob burst forth. “Grainna has Tara!”

Duncan grabbed hold of his mother’s shoulders, his eyes searching hers. “Are you sure?” His jaw clenched on the emotion and bile bubbling in his throat.

She nodded, tears streaming down her face.

He should never have left. They knew there was danger and still they acted though there was none.

Primal rage and terror broiled within. It left cold emptiness in his soul. He cursed his foolishness and prayed Tara’s life would be spared.

Wasting little time, they mounted their horses, leaving most of their provisions behind in their haste.

A howl retched from his gut. He kicked Durk into a faster pace.

****

“How much farther?” Tara asked, trying to stay in the saddle, which wasn’t easy considering their speed. Tara wasn’t convinced the rate they traveled was good for her baby and started to voice her concern.

They’d been riding for over two hours, and she was beginning to think they were lost. Matthew hadn’t said a word during their journey. He ignored most of her questions, making the time even more uncomfortable. The weight of his silence sat heavy on her shoulders.

“Matthew, I need to slow down,” she said, tugging at the reins.

He rounded back to her. “We should hurry.” He forced her horse to a faster pace.

“Matthew, enough! Laird MacCoinnich knows I’m pregnant. He wouldn’t want harm to come to me or the baby.”

He continued to pull on her horse’s reins.

“I insist we slow our pace,” she yelled. She kept 256

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the words she wanted to toss at him in her head.

To Tara’s relief, Matthew resigned and rode beside her.

He said nothing.

She watched him out the corner of her eye. His back was rod straight, his gaze glossed over. His look was familiar, but she was having a hard time placing it. Was he angry? In shock? What had he seen to make him so stoic? “Do you know why they sent for me?”

He sneered at her, then moved his eyes forward.

“I think it best they tell ye.”

“That bad huh?”

He said nothing.

The woods were so thick she could barely see the sun through the trees. The smell of rain blanketed the forest and rotting vegetation. Tara thought she heard a waterfall in the distance. That meant a stream must be nearby. She wondered if it was the same stream that followed along the village border.

Most times she would love the heavy scent of oak and moss, mixed with the pine. But the knowledge that she rode toward danger kept her from enjoying the forest. She wished Duncan was here. Despite the knight beside her, she was desperately alone.

Tara needed a distraction from the silence. She glanced at Matthew and picked a topic she knew he would ramble on about. “What species of birds do you find in these woods, Sir Lancaster?”

He stared ahead in utter silence.

“Did you hear me, Sir Matthew?”

“We’re almost there. See the cottage?”

Thank God
. Matthew was wigging her out. She couldn’t wait to see her in-laws.

A clearing gave a glimpse of a structure that was close to shambles. The walls leaned and the roof appeared as if it hadn’t been thatched in years.

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Why on earth would Ian and Fin be here?
More to the point, how had Lancaster come upon them like he said? There was no noticeable path leading this way, and it certainly wasn’t in the direction of any neighboring village. At least none she knew about.

The closer they got, the more uneasy she became. “Ian? Finlay?” she called out.

No answer. Alarm bells started to chime inside her head.

“They must be inside,” Matthew said.

Her eyes darted all around. She stood up in her saddle to get a better look. “Ian? Finlay?” she yelled louder, cringing at the panic she heard in her voice.

There were no horses. No sign of the men. She was close enough to the cottage that whoever was inside would hear her.

But no one came out with her calls.

It wasn’t right. An icy cold crept over her entire body, except for her hand, which started to burn with a radiant heat. The tips of her fingers grew hot where she had pricked them with Myra’s and Amber’s.

Something is wrong.

Something told her to get away. Tara turned her mount and kicked her into a full run.

Matthew came after her.

Over her shoulder, she saw his expression change from catatonic to murderous.

She didn’t get far before Lancaster was beside her. He grabbed her, dragged her off her horse and across his lap. Within seconds, he held her hands in a grip like a vice.

She kicked and screamed. The horse bucked, sending them both to the forest floor.

Winded and frantic, she scrambled to her feet.

Skirts lifted to her thighs, she bolted. She made it a 258

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few yards before Matthew tackled her to the ground.

Spitting dirt from her mouth, Tara struggled to get up. His knee planted firmly in her back, held her in place. She had no leverage to fight off her attacker.

Tara managed to turn her head just in time to see him raise a fallen branch over her.

His blow to her skull stopped her fight. Her last thought before darkness overtook her was of Duncan.

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Chapter 23

Tara woke face down on a musty dirt floor. Her head ached. Blood had dried on the back of her neck.

Rough rope bound her hands and feet. Cloth covered her eyes. A small slit in the bottom of the fabric afforded her a glimpse of light from a fireplace.

Laughter, wicked and familiar, filled the room.

“Look what the cat dragged in.”

Oh God!
A wave of nausea hit her hard. She bit back nasty bile. She’d never forget that voice.

“Grainna!”

“Well, well. Know my real name, do you?”

“What do you want?” Tara struggled to sit up.

A heavy boot pushed her to the floor.