Celtic Fury (31 page)

Suddenly, she was filled with strength. She would try to see if Roderick really planned to send her back to Val Cour. She now needed a plan to get away from Campbell keep as soon as possible so she could make a life for herself and her child. She would speak to him straight away to see what his plans for her were. She did not want to seem too happy to leave for England, else he would deliberately not send her. Making her way to Roderick’s study, she found him polishing his sword. He looked up from red-rimmed eyes. By God, he had already been drinking!

“Ah, my infernally crying sister…And what do I owe the honor of your presence,” he asked sarcastically, with a mocking bow before her.

“I know ye’ want to send me back to Val Cour. And if that is my fate, I would sooner get on with it than not. Ye’ have taken all I have ever wanted so, sending me back to Val Cour would be no worse.”  Hatred flared in his bloodshot eyes.

“Oh, so ye’ are ready to go back to Val Cour are ye’?  And I wonder what could have brought on this change of heart…hmmmm…. what could it be?”

“I just need to go away, so I can forget, t’is all
,”
Brielle said more honestly than she wanted to admit, though she knew that nothing could ever make her forget; no amount of distance would wash away the pain in her heart.

“I…know ye’ are displeased with me…all I had wanted was to come home after Marcus died, but now home offers me no joy
,”
she said trying to placate him.

“
I will go back and live out my days as the proper grieving widow.”

Roderick threw his sword, sending it to the floor in a clatter. He grabbed Brielle by her hair and yanked hard, snapping her head back painfully.

“They will not have ye’, whore! Ye’ have disgraced their goodly name with yer’ antics with the Rabid Wolf. Ye’ have dishonored your husband who is only dead two moon and ye’ have already taken up with that MacCollum cur. Did ye’ think that word hadn’t gone back to Val Cour’s family?”

He flung her away from him, sending her sprawling into the filth on the floor. She landed with a thump on her hands and knees, grateful that she hadn’t landed flat on her face. She struggled back up to her feet, weak from her grief imposed isolation. The palms of her hands felt scraped from the rough hewn wood of the decaying floor boards.

Roderick watched her straighten and he laughed with the sound of insanity. That actually frightened Brielle. She realized drink or no, her brother was a madman. She would have to find a way to leave Campbell on her own.

“It seems, little sister, that yer’ MacCollum lover has finally come to claim ye’.”  Brielle faced Roder
ick and stared at him in shock.

“
What…Ruiri…is here?” 

Hearing that Rory had arrived sent momentary shivers of elation through her…Her Ruiri…she would see him again…but as quickly as that joy filled her broken heart, she reminded herself that she must not let Rory think she wanted to be with him, or it would get him killed. He must never know about her suspicions of being with his child. That would further endanger him. As much as she wanted to run and throw herself into his arms, Brielle knew she could never again make that claim. She had to make him believe she did not love him, so he could go home, nurse his wounds and live. She ignored the little voice that nagged at her saying,
And do ye’ think he will want to live if ye’ break his heart?
Brielle wanted to cover her ears against that voice.

“Aye, yer’ precious lover is here…and he brought his brothers. Finally, I shall hav
e them all finished this day.”
Brielle gasped and said, “NO, dunna’ harm him…”

“Awww, ever the concerned lass. Do not harm him
,”
he mimicked.
“
Do not harm him
?  And ye’ offer no concern for yer loving brother?”

“Ye’ are my brother by blood only
,”
she said without caution, not caring that it would anger him.

“Half Blood
,”
Roderick spat.

“What madness is this, Roderick
?
I am yer’ sister.”

“Oh, didn’t ye’ know? Yer’ mother was not my mother. Our sire spawned ye’ on some whore after my mother died.”

“Father was married to my mother.” 

“Aye, and after only two moons of my mother’s death. Like father, like faithless, whoring daughter. Father was weak. He disgusted me and so do ye’. His lack of loyalty to his dead wife was an abomination. But at least ye’ have helped lead my most hated enemy into my hands. I canna’ wait to see the light die in his eyes as his blood runs.”

“
N
ay
,
” Brielle gasped in horror. Roderick grabbed her and forced her to the window.

“See the glints through the trees. They will be here before nightfall.”  Brielle did see those shimmers and thought there seemed to be many more men than just Rory and his brothers. He brought reinforcements.

“Ye’ are outnumbered, Roderick. Ye’ should surrender now and save yourself.”

“Ahhh but they dunna’ know my archers are lining the walls. I will cut down enough of them to even the score, and then Dear Sister, ye’ will lead yer’ precious lover into my hands.”

“I will
never
do that. The devil take ye’, Roderick.”

“Oh, but ye’ will, because I know yer’ little secret, little sister.” Roderick then pretended to retch.

“And if ye’ want to see the brat begotten by the Rabid Dog, ye’ will do as I say.”  Brielle looked at her brother in horror.

“My God, ye’ are a monster.” He laughed maniacally.

“I assume it is not Val Cour’s, dumb old sot. I doubt he could get his cock hard enough to take a piss.”  Brielle stammered, “I… I am not with child. I was sick from the filth here.” She lied, but it had no merit.

“Ah, that is what I thought. T’is the Cur’s very own whelp.” 

Brielle backed up and murmured, “No…”
She felt the walls suddenly closing in on her. She had to get away and somehow convince Rory that she didn’t love him so he would leave. She would never lure him to harm. As she backed away from Roderick, she saw he had forgotten about her for the moment. He was mumbling how it was time to see Rory MacCollum’s blood spill. He was now completely lost in his mad musings.

Chapter Thirty-Two

             
Rory gave quiet commands. He did not like the stillness that surrounded Campbell Keep because stillness usually meant someone was sitting in wait for them. He said, “Do not charge the keep. Bowm
e
n, no doubt, are ready for yer’ approach. When we make our presence known, I want ye’ to stay just out of the range of shooting arrows. On my lead we will move forward.”

Caleb watched his son, and though he was fighting the darkness constantly, he managed to take command clearly. Though Rory was angrier than Caleb had ever seen him, he was proud of his controlled leadership. The men, both MacCollum and MacDougal responded to him and followed his orders unquestioningly. He was a natural leader. Caleb’s heart welled with pride. It was one thing to see his sons off and fighting, but to fight along side of them and to have the youngest one assume the role of commander was more than a father could ask for. The men followed Rory’s lead to the outer bailey. It was near dusk and they had spent a good part of the day listening to Rory’s plans and tactics.

The men formed a semi-circle around the keep. They waited as three rounds of arrows were shot, keeping just out of the range, as Rory had commanded. As Rory calibrated the sweep of the range, he rode up and down the flank counting the archers and counting the seconds between re-firing. Though the men were itching to move, they waited. Rory had it under control. He directed those who were o
ut of the line of view forward.
It was all so calculated, they would come out unscathed. Rory’s plan was not to kill all the Campbell, but to get Brielle out safely. Despite his hatred of Roderick Campbell, he did not want to have to tell Brielle that he had killed her only living kin, so his cautious approach was his only option.

It was all actually working beautifully, as Rory’s perfectly planned approach followed his tactical and logical course. That
was
, until Brielle had dashed through the entrance of the keep. She moved purposefully, heading toward Rory. Rory was down flank of th
e men and had not seen her yet.
She called out, “Ruiri MacCollum, I dunna’ need rescuing. Leave me be and leave this place.” 

It was as if time had slowed. Rory turned toward her and looking up he saw she was in direct line of an archer’s fire. He began riding as fast as he could toward her. Liam also began to charge toward the girl, closing the distance quicker than Rory could. Liam leapt from his horse and rushed at Brielle, pushing her out of the line of fire. In doing so, he pushed her to the ground and just out of range of the arrow that was shot…nearly. In saving Brielle, Liam caught an arrow to his side. As he fell, Ruiri cried out a yell of anguish. Throwing his head back, he let go a cry of torment, sounding more like a wolf than a man.

             
“NOOoooooooo
,”
was the howled cry that split the air around them. Liam raised himself up on his side and said, “Easy, Ruiri. I will be alright…tend to yer’ girl.” But the blood staining his leine quickly seeped from the arrow wound and was pooling into the leather trewes Liam wore. It did not take long for Liam to succumb to the loss of blood and excruciating pain. He quickly slipped into unconsciousness and crumpled to the ground. Rory saw Brielle looking stricken and pale. His anger prevented him from seeing her physical state of repeated abuse.

“Damn You! Damn ye’ to hell,
Gabrielle Campbell
. Look at what ye’ caused!”  He was furious.
And, he had called her “Campbell” again. She was no longer his wife. She was no longer MacCollum and she knew she had no right to be.

“I…I told Caleb to tell ye’ to leave me be. I dunna’ love ye’…Ye’ should na’ have come
,”
she rambled, blurting out the things she had carefully planned to say
; feeling rattled and shaken just from seeing him and from hearing the anger in his voice…and from having the binding rite negated. Well, she had asked for it and now she had accomplished in attaining just such a declaration
.

“The hell ye’ don’t
!”

Even in his anger, seeing her again, set his heart pounding. God he ached to hold her…that was, of course, after he had given her a good sound spanking. Even with her lying lips, he could feel her love. What did she hope to gain from lying to him? She was his, love or no and he was never going to leave her in the hands of these Campbell demons.

“I dunna’ lo
ve ye’.
Cut yer’ losses and go.”

That lie cost Brielle so much, because it hurt her heart as much to say it as it did for Rory to hear it. Rory was about to explode.

“My losses, Brielle?
My losses?  If I lose my brother, I will NOT be able to ‘Cut my losses’ Ye’ are coming with me. I dunna’ care that ye’ dunna’
love
me
,”
he said with venomous sarcasm. He did not really understand her motive for lying because whether she loved him or not, the Campbell would still want him dead.

“
N
o
. Leave me alone. I willna’ go with ye’. I never loved ye’
,”
she lied, saying the words that hurt her to her very soul. Those hateful words seemed to slash at Rory’s heart, even though he knew it for the lie it was.

“It was all a mistake. I confused love for ye’ helping me get well. I am grateful for that, but nothing more. I am sorry, but I willna’ go with ye’.” 

Rory did not believe in committing violence against women, usually, but she was pushing him to his limits. He wanted to punish her…and kiss her till she admitted that she lied. Even knowing her words were lies, they cut him deeply. No man should ever hear that from the woman he loved. That stupid little fool! She was braver than any woman he knew…and naïve enough to think he believed her.

“I did not risk my brother’s life so ye’ could stay here. If I have to hog tie ye’, ye’
will
be leaving with me. I dunna’ care if ye’ don’t love me. Ye’ belong to me. There is no doubt of that. I have claimed you by right of your maidenhead and what is mine I will not release.” 

Brielle was horrified. His words were embarrassing, degrading and crude. She felt no warmth in his claim and she turned to face him. As real as hatred she could feel toward the man she loved with every fiber of her being, she felt now at his horrid words. Seemingly authentic hatred now flared in her eyes.

“I am not a piece of property. Ye’ are no better than Roderick to say such things. Get away from me. I never want to see ye’ again.” 

She thought that would have finished it, but she was wrong. His words cut her, too.

“Ruiri, have a care
,”
came the voice of Stephen MacDougal. Men had begun pouring out from the main entry and had engaged the men in battle. Dragging Brielle more roughly than he wished toward his father, Rory said, “Take her out of my sight Da. Shawn, ye’ take hold of Liam. I will meet ye’ back in the village inn.”