Fraser 02 - Highland Quest (18 page)

“Bryce won’t allow that to happen. He will come for me.”

“If Fraser tries to save you, he will meet the same fate as your uncle.” Dungal’s sinister laugh made her cringe. “First, I’ll enjoy making him watch as I repeatedly fill you with my seed,” he hissed and moved so close that his hot, whiskey-tainted breath brushed her cheek. “Then I’ll see him hanged, drawn, and quartered.”

“The only reason you wish to bed me is because you know I love Bryce and despise you with every fiber of my being.” She could not believe what she’d just said, but it was too late to take it back.

“I beg to differ, my dear. You are indeed a bewitching creature. I grow hard thinking about burying myself deep within you.” He ran the pad of his thumb over her lips then dropped his hand and cupped her woman’s mound. “I’d wager the wetness of your arousal is as thick and sweet as honey. I canna wait to spread your legs and taste for myself.”

“You’re a filthy, vulgar swine. How dare you speak to me of such lewd things?”

“I plan to do more than just speak of them. You may even find you enjoy it.” Dungal nonchalantly blew on his fingernails and then brushed them across his bare chest.

“I will never give myself to you.” She spat in his face. His response was a swift backhanded slap that left her hovering on the edge of consciousness.

“If I decide to keep you for my personal enjoyment, that attitude is something a few good beatings will rectify soon enough.”

With one hand, he cupped her breast and squeezed. With his other hand fisted in her hair, he snapped her head back and his mouth came down on hers in a harsh, rapacious kiss. He licked the blood from her split lower lip and glared at her like an animal prepared to devour his prey. “Like it or not, you will comply or I will teach you to obey.”

“You’ll have to kill me first.” Tears welled in her eyes, but she managed to blink them away. She’d not give in to his demands. Were her hands and feet not bound, she’d fight with every ounce of strength she could muster.

“That’s bold talk given the fact that you are my prisoner. Your death can easily be arranged, but not until I am fully sated.” Dungal picked up his tankard, drank to the last drop, and slammed it down on a wooden trunk. Drawing his dirk from its sheath, he methodically ran his finger along the blade. An evil smirk tugged at his lips as he raised the weapon above her head.

Fallon prayed that he would plunge the weapon into her heart and end this torture here and now. Instead, he cut the ropes he’d used to tie her to the rafters of the tent, releasing her arms. To her amazement, he severed the bonds on her feet as well.

She dropped to her knees and tried to crawl away, but he twisted her hair around his fist then dragged her kicking and clawing toward the pallet in the corner of the tent. He forced her to lie down, using the weight of his body to hold her in place. With bated breath, she braced for what was about to happen next.

With the dirk clenched between his teeth, Dungal clasped her wrists with one hand and jerked them above her head before slitting the front of her kirtle.

“You’re lovelier than I imagined,” he groaned as he peeled back the fabric, exposing her naked flesh. He fondled her breasts, roughly rolling the nipple between his fingers, and then lowered his head, nipping at her neck. “The time has come for you to learn your lesson.” His mouth crashed down upon hers.

Fear squeezed her chest and nausea rolled in her belly, but she refused to beg him for mercy. Instead, she glared up at him. “When Bryce comes, I hope he lops off your ballocks before he runs you through.”

“Silence!” Dungal growled. “You will lay there and allow me to breed you or so help me, I will beat you into submission.”

From his vantage point, Bryce heard their entire conversation. Like a volcano ready to erupt, rage welled from deep in his gut. He fought the urge to tear into the tent and run the bastard through. But to do so would only put Fallon in more danger. He had to wait until the members of the rescue party were in their places, leaving him no choice but to listen and hope that if he was too late to stop the bedding, he’d be in time to her life.

He’d seen too much death and suffering in his travels to remain a religious man, but out of desperation, he lowered
his head in prayer
.

“Lord, if you’re there, please keep Fallon strong. Make her understand that whatever he does to her doesn’t matter. Keep her alive and I’ll do whatever bidding you see fit.”

An ear-piercing war cry cut through the air as Alasdair broached the edge of the encampment. Bryce sprang into action.

“What the Hell is going on out there? I told those imbeciles that I was not to be disturbed,” Dungal growled. “I best go and see what’s amiss.”

Bryce quickly made his way to the back of the tent and waited, giving Dungal sufficient time to check things out and hopefully leaving Fallon unattended. Relief washed over him when he saw the shadow of a figure at the rear of the tent move toward the front. So far, the plan to distract Dungal appeared to be working.

“What goes on out here?” Dungal bellowed.

“I’m sorry to disturb you, cousin,” a man at the front of the tent said, “but someone entered the south end of the camp.”

Satisfied Dungal was occupied, Bryce swiftly used his dirk to cut a hole large enough to climb through.

“Do you know who it was?” Dungal asked.

“It could be a spy sent by the Bruce to determine our location or mayhap a drunken thief. We willna know until we catch the bastard,” the man replied.

“Was he alone?”

“I have no idea, but several of our men went after him. Do you wish more to follow?”

“Do what is necessary to capture the bugger. Make haste and dinna disturb me again. There’s a flower to be picked, and I grow tired of waiting.”

“Take a dozen men, follow the blackguard, and bring him back for questioning. The rest of you are to stand guard. Dungal is not to be bothered again this night,” the man shouted.

While Dungal issued orders to his men, Bryce seized the opportunity to climb through the opening he’d cut in the back of the tent. His eyes met with Fallon’s and he brought his finger to his lips as a warning for her to remain silent as he moved with stealth to her side.

Fallon threw her arms around his neck and kissed him repeatedly. “I knew you’d come for me,” she whispered.

Dungal lowered the tent flap, turned, and rubbed his groin. “Now, where were we? My ballocks ache and I know how to relieve them.” His smug grin quickly faded when he stared at the gaping hole at the back of his tent and him crouching over Fallon. “Halt!”

Bryce ignored Dungal’s command, dragged Fallon to her feet, and shoved her toward freedom. “Go!” he ordered aloud and then whispered in her ear, “Run to the east as fast as you can. No matter what happens, dinna turn back. My brother and other members of our rescue party will see you to safety.” His instructions given, Bryce positioned himself between Fallon and Dungal, and drew his sword. “You’ll not live long enough to harm another lass. After I lop off your ballocks, I’ll run you through.”

Dungal laughed and picked up his blade. “We’ll see who ends up a gelding,” he scoffed. “Once I’ve done away with you, I’ll track down the little whore. By the time I’m finished with her, she’ll beg to die. I’ll gladly do the honors. Unless I decide to offer her to my men first.”

Fallon clutched her torn kirtle together with one trembling hand and grabbed her gown and slippers with the other. She turned to leave, but hesitated. “I canna go without you, Bryce,” she sobbed.

“How touching,” Dungal scoffed.

“Go now, Fallon!” Bryce shouted as Dungal lunged forward in an attempt to stop her.

She nodded and began to climb through the opening, but as two men’s swords collided, she paused and looked back. “Bryce,” she gasped.

“Be gone, Fallon,” Bryce ordered, the momentary distractions affording Dungal the chance to knock him off balance. He tumbled backward and the bastard snatched his weapon. Fear swept through him as he stared up at his nemesis. Not for himself, but for Fallon, who once again hesitated. “Run!”

“Prepare to die. This time, I’ll do the task properly,” Dungal growled.

Tears flowing freely down Fallon’s face as she slipped through the hole. Bryce had lost his weapon because of her. Her premonition of his death at Dungal’s hand appeared about to come true and there was nothing she could do to stop it. She clutched at her throat. The last thing she’d seen was a self-aggrandizing grin on Dungal’s face as he hovered over Bryce, his blade raised in the air.

She fought the overwhelming urge to go back, but that would be exactly what Dungal wanted. She tugged her gown over her head and donned her slippers before darting into the forest. She had no idea where she was headed, but Bryce had assured her Alasdair waited.

Go east and dinna look back.

Bryce’s words echoed in her mind, and her chest tightened. He’d risked all to save her, traded his life for hers, and she might never see him again. A myriad of concerns for Bryce flooded her mind, threatening to override her good senses. Bryce had ordered her to leave, but if she located Alasdair quickly, he might be able to assist his brother.

Her heart pounded a warrior’s beat and the surge of energy coursing through her veins gave her the strength to forge on. With the stealth and determination of a wildcat hunting its prey and the full moon to light the way, she raced along an overgrown path. The smell of the MacDougall’s cook-fires and the sounds of angry men shouting faded deeper into the distance with each step.

After her narrow escape, she wondered if the other members of the rescue party had made it to safety. Did Alasdair survive, or had he been captured? Was Bryce alive? Her mind raced with questions. Mayhap Dungal was only a few steps behind her.

A strong arm snaked around her waist and a calloused hand covered her mouth. “Dinna make a sound.” The brute raised her off the ground and yanked her against a solid wall of muscle, leaving her with both feet dangling in the air.

Was he friend of foe? He hadn’t announced his intent, so she assumed the latter. She bit down on his hand and kicked back with her heel, connecting with his groin.

He dropped her immediately, then doubled over, a string of curses flowing from his mouth.

Fallon scrambled out of his reach, but in her haste to get away, bumped into another man blocking the trail.

She staggered backward, staring into the eyes of someone else she did not recognize. He stomped forward, and she took a step back, all the while searching for a means of escape.

“Watch her. She bites like a viper and kicks like a horse,” the first man cautioned as he tried to stand upright.

Before either of her assailants could speak again, Fallon headed for the edge of the woods, taking refuge behind a large boulder. She picked up a sharp branch, wielding it like a sword. “Dinna come any closer. I’ll not surrender, and I refuse to go back to Dungal while there is breath left in my body.”

The second man laughed. “I applaud your bravery, but dinna think you pose much of a threat with a stick. Be a good lass and come here.”

The two men closed in, but stopped when a third person approached. “What in damnation is going on?” he bellowed as he strode out of the shadows.

Fallon’s heart raced and her breath lodged in her throat. Her odds of outsmarting two warriors were slim, but she didn’t stand a chance against three. Panic squeezed her chest.

“You were supposed to find the lass and bring her to me, not frighten her to death.” The third man threw his hands in the air and continued toward her.

The timber of his voice was vaguely familiar. However, it was not enough to let down her guard. She narrowed her eyes, the breath she held escaping in a whoosh when she saw Alasdair’s face appear in the moonlight.

He reached for her. “Dinna fear, lass, these two idiots are here to help you, not to harm. Come to me, and we will be away.”

She dropped the branch and moved forward, but her head began to spin. Before she could steady herself, everything went black.

When her eyes fluttered open, she looked up at a rugged face etched with concern peering down at her. She rested on the ground with her head on Alasdair’s knee.

“You gave us a scare.” Alasdair inclined his head and issued orders to one of his companions. “Fetch me a plaid and a flask of whiskey. Dinna tarry.” He focused his attention on Fallon. “Take a few deep breaths and calm yourself. You’re safe now, lass.” He brushed a lock of hair from her forehead.

For a gruff man of his size, Alasdair’s touch was much gentler than she’d anticipated. “I’m fine. Please let me up.”

“I’ll decide what is best for you. You’ll be allowed to rise when I’m sure you’ve had sufficient time to recover from your fright.” Alasdair accepted a plaid from one of the men and covered her. He took the flask of whiskey and pulled out the stopper. “Drink,” he demanded huskily and brought the vessel to her mouth.

She pushed his hand away and turned her head. “I said I am fine. I dinna want any whiskey, but I must speak to you about Bryce.”

“My brother will meet us when he is done with Dungal.” Alasdair’s reply was simple and direct. He made a second fruitless attempt to give her a drink.

“You dinna understand.” Fallon tried to stand, but when her head spun and her stomach clenched, she slowly sank to her knees. “What happened to me?”

“You fainted and look ready to do so again.” Alasdair ran his hand over his stubbled chin.

“I never fainted in my life. But I’ve eaten very little in the last few days, so that might explain my weakness.” She made another attempt to rise and this time succeeded, despite her wobbly legs.

“You must listen to me.” She stared at him in frustration. “Bryce needs your help. That is, if you are not too late.”

She quickly crossed her chest. “He managed to free me, but Dungal returned before we could escape together. Bryce insisted I leave while he stayed behind to face Dungal and his men alone. He is sorely outnumbered, and the last I witnessed, Dungal had forced him to the ground and relieved him of his sword.”

“My brother knew the risk before he entered Dungal’s tent, but it was our only hope of saving you. He was clear we were to find you and wait in this spot. That is exactly what we’ll do.”

Fallon’s mouth dropped open in utter disbelief. “We canna just leave him to Dungal and his men. You must try to assist him.”

Her plea fell on deaf ears. Alasdair hoisted her into his arms before she could protest further and carried her down the path.

Her attempt to struggle failed. Alasdair ignored her badgering and strode toward a small clearing. Frogs croaked and the reflection of the moon wavered on the rippling surface of a nearby pond.

“We wait here.” He plunked her down on a log then handed her the plaid he’d slung over his shoulder while carrying her.

“I dinna need coddling.” She pushed the length of fabric from her lap, stood, and planted her hands firmly on her hips. “I canna believe you refused to lend Bryce your support. He’s your brother and would surely not desert you in the face of such odds.”

“My brother must possess the patience of a saint to tolerate your constant nagging and demands. If you were my woman, I’d put an end to the nattering in a hurry.”

Fallon harrumphed with indignation. “I’m not your woman. I belong to no man and answer to no one but the Almighty.”

The man she’d bitten laughed, then quickly held out his hand as evidence. “I’d not rile her if I were you.”

“Had you announced yourself and your purpose, I would not have retaliated so aggressively. But you came at me from behind. How was I to know if you intended to help or harm me?”

“She has a point.” The second man slapped the first man on the back. “We handled the situation poorly. Good thing she dinna carry a dirk or sword. We’d both be flayed.” He threw back his head and laughed.

Fallon balled her fists in her skirt. She could not believe Alasdair’s complacency or that of his men. “What is the matter with you? Bryce is in danger. He may already be dead.” Tears welled in her eyes, but she scrubbed them away with the back of her hand. “If you won’t to do anything to help him, give me a sword and I’ll go myself.” She made no effort to hide the urgency or determination in her voice. “I never should have left Dungal’s tent without Bryce. If he dies, I’ll not forgive myself.” Unable to contain her regret, she buried her face in her hands.

“Calm yourself. You’re going nowhere. Bryce entrusted me with your care, and I won’t let him down. Rushing off and putting yourself in danger would only make things worse.” Alasdair gently touched her shoulder, but she shrugged him away. “We’ll wait a little longer, but if he doesna arrive in the next hour, we must head back to the Bruce’s camp.”

“I’ll not leave without Bryce. You may go if you choose, but I’ll not accompany you. Once you’ve departed, I will return for him.”

“I understand your concern, but Bryce would want you to wait here. If he fails to return, it is my duty to see you to safety.”

“Do you have such little faith in me, brother?”

Fallon’s heart leapt at the sound of Bryce’s voice. She spun around and flung herself into his arms. Allowing the tears to flow, she frantically kissed his neck, his jaw, and his lips. “I thought Dungal killed you.” She sobbed, soaking the front of his tunic and holding on with a death grip to the fabric. “I canna believe you’re alive. Thank God, you’re here.”

“Believe,
luaidth.”
He dropped his head and captured her lips with a kiss that stole her breath and rattled her to the very core.

Her moment of bliss ended when she noticed the blood stains on his tunic. “You’re wounded.” She gasped. “Show me where.”

“The blood belongs to Dungal. After you left, he drew down on me with his sword, but not before I rolled out of the way, pulled the dirk from my boot, and plunged it into his chest. You were right when you gave the weapon to me at your uncle’s croft and predicted it would save my life again.” He pulled her closer and kissed her soundly, then held her at arm’s length, his face suddenly contorted with concern.

“Did Dungal . . .?” He choked on the words, but he had to know. “Did he harm you? Did the bastard violate you?” He spat out the words. “Tell me I wasna too late to stop him.”

“Aye. You arrived in time. Dungal was about to ravage me, but he dinna have the chance.”

“Thank you, God.” Bryce looked skyward, then hauled her against his chest and kissed her like a drowning man struggling for his last breath.

“I hate to break up this happy reunion, but we best be on our way.” Alasdair placed his hand on Bryce’s shoulder. “Was Dungal dead when you left him?”

“Would that I had killed him.” Bryce released his hold on Fallon. “Unfortunately, two of his clansmen entered the tent and I was unable to finish him off. With any luck, the wound I delivered will be enough.”

“Even more reason to be off. I am sure the MacDougalls will give chase, and we’ve already lost two men in the skirmish.”

Bryce glanced around the clearing at the men. “Blair and Derek were killed?”

Alasdair nodded. “Aye, both died quickly.”

“Their sacrifice willna be forgotten.” Bryce bowed his head.

Fallon’s heart plummeted. She’d cost two men their lives. “I’m sorry,” she whispered.

“You have no reason to apologize. Dungal took you prisoner, and it was not your fault the men were killed. They volunteered for this mission, and while it is sad they perished, they died a warrior’s death, in a battle against an enemy they despised.” Bryce slid his arm around Fallon’s shoulders and held her tightly. “You are not to blame.”

“This is not the time to discuss who is responsible. We must depart for the Bruce’s camp.” Alasdair led a horse forward.

Bryce lifted Fallon into the saddle then climbed up behind her. Unlike the disgust she’d experienced when Dungal had done the same thing, she felt a warm rush of longing, a surge of excitement brewing in her belly and beyond when Bryce encircled her hips with his powerful thighs.

With a sharp kick of Bryce’s booted foot, the horse lunged forward.