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Authors: Highland Hearts

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Revan nodded, agreeing with Silvio yet hating to lose any time. “I pray a trail is all we will find.”
“ ’Tis my prayer as well, Revan. I believe, truly believe, that she is still alive. MacKinnon has betrayed the king for gain, turned his back on a man who has done him naught but good because someone offered him more—more land, more coin. Who can say? That hints at a deep greed. He will want that bounty. If not him, then Dermott will.” He turned to Tomas, who rode on the other side of him. “Call for Martin. He needs to let us ken where he is.”
When Tomas lifted a hunting horn to his lips and blew on it twice, Revan inwardly shook his head. Tess’s kinsmen had a rather odd sense of humor. Then he tensed as the faint reply of another hunting horn broke the expectant silence.
“Does that mean he has found something?” he asked Silvio.
“Quite possibly. When Martin goes searching for a trail he is often deaf and blind to all else until he has found it. The fact that he has answered our call is nearly a confirmation of a find. Ah, and there is another call. He marks his place for us. Let us not leave him waiting for too long.”
Silvio spurred his mount into a gallop, and Revan quickly did the same. He paid little heed to the dozen or so other men riding with them except to note that they followed. His sole interest was in finding out which way MacKinnon had taken Tess and getting after the pair.
Martin stood at the spot where the forest began to grow more densely and calmly waited as Revan, Silvio, and Tomas reined in, then dismounted and joined him. “Three riders went this way,” he reported to Silvio.
“This veers farther to the east than I would have guessed it to go,” murmured Silvio as he studied the trail Martin pointed out to him. “Have ye followed it past this point?”
“Aye and it continues in this direction. I was on my way back to tell you.” He ran a hand through his thick black hair and scowled at the tracks he had uncovered. “They go far out of their way. ’Twill add many miles to their flight to the Douglas.”
“But none at all to a journey toward Thurkettle’s keep,” said Revan.
“I was just thinking the same,” muttered Silvio.
“But why?” asked Tomas. “The Douglas is closer by several miles, and he is also offering a bounty for Tess.”
“Thurkettle may be offering a bigger one. Tess’s death can gain him two things—her silence and her fortune.” Silvio grimaced. “MacKinnon has chosen Thurkettle to be Tess’s executioner. I believe I ken the why of that choice.”
“Because Thurkettle willna kill her quickly or cleanly,” Revan said, fear tightening its grip on his heart.
“Aye, I fear so. Thurkettle has the reputation of being vicious when he is angry, and he must be very angry at our wee countess by now. His cruelty when enraged was one reason I hesitated to send her to live with him.”
“Yet ye did send her.” Revan’s fear turned to anger, and he directed it at Silvio, blaming the man for placing Tess within Thurkettle’s reach to begin with. “Even if he hadna been trying to kill her for five years, he was still a poor choice.”
“He was her mother’s choice. I think she believed it would be good for Tess to grow up with Brenda, a lass her own age. Eileen might not have liked her brother, but she had no reason to believe he would ever try to harm the lass. There was also the matter of Tess’s inheritance. Thurkettle held control of that. If he had decided to push the matter, the courts and the king would have decided in his favor anyway. We were but the reluctant tools of the law.”
“I ask your pardon.” Revan sighed and rubbed the back of his neck. “I but ache to blame someone for all of this, and ye were close at hand.”
“No need to apologize. I, too, ache to blame someone, but I was never too fond of chastising myself.” He looked at Martin. “I ken how ye hate long rides, Martin, but we need you to join us. This is too important a hunt.”
“I ken it. I dinna mind riding along, not if it will help the wee lass.” He shook his head as he moved toward his horse. “I just wish I could have taught the lass how to find her way. It might have helped her now.”
“Ye were doomed to failure in that, Martin. That lass was born lost,” Silvio said as he hurried to remount. “Come on, we need to cover as many miles as we can ere darkness slows our pace.” He looked at Revan. “We will get her back. ’Tis not a pleasant thought, but Thurkettle’s taste for cruelty could work for us.”
“How could it possibly be in our favor?”
“Because he willna kill her immediately. He will want to savor what he thinks is his victory. And he will want to plan the best way to make her pay for the trouble she has caused him. That will take time, and time is what we need.”
Revan did not really wish to think about what Tess would suffer at Thurkettle’s hands. “Then let us ride, Silvio, and waste no more of that precious time here.” He spurred his mount to a gallop straight toward Thurkettle’s keep, straight back to the place he and Tess had so narrowly escaped once before.
 
 
“Now, there will be no screaming, wench, or the gag will be stuffed back in your mouth, and ye willna taste a drop of this water.” Dermott cautiously eased the gag from Tess’s mouth.
Tess made no attempt to scream. Her mouth and throat were so dry she doubted she could have made much noise even if she had wanted to. For the moment the water Dermott was clumsily tipping into her mouth was far more important than making some undoubtedly vain attempt to call for help.
When he moved away, she glanced around. The moon had risen, but the trees were so thick around them its pale light only reached the ground in scattered spots. They had stopped to water the horses and let the poor beasts rest for a moment. She sat on the ground, sore and exhausted, and tried to think of some way to get free. Glancing down at the rope binding her wrists, she slowly began to lift the knotted hempen shackles toward her mouth.
“If ye think to gnaw your way free of your bonds, I shouldna trouble yourself.” MacKinnon crouched beside her. “Ye will be firmly set in your uncle’s hands ere ye get through even one of these thick coils.”
Inwardly she cursed the man, then glared at him. It had been foolish to think she could chew her way to freedom, but she deeply resented his knowing of her plans and exactly how fruitless they were. He was gloating over her dire predicament, and she hated him for that.
“I have but one uncle in Scotland—Silvio Comyn.”
“Come now, Thurkettle is your mother’s brother.”
“He is no kinsman to me. He is a traitor, a murderer, a thief, and a liar. He could be your kin. Ye are so very much alike.” She bit back a cry of pain when he slapped her across the face. “Beating me canna change the truth. Nay, nor will my death alter your fate. Ye are a dead man. It would be wise for you to see to your prayers. Aye, pray that the king ye seek to betray feels merciful and doesna make ye pay as dearly for your treachery as the ones who murdered his father did.” She saw the brief look of fear that passed over his thin face before he could hide it, and it gave her a small amount of satisfaction.
“ ’Tis not I who is the dead man but James the Second. The Douglas will soon be king—although ye willna be alive to see it. Thurkettle is said to be in a rage, and the angrier he is, the deeper his cruelty. Ye will be a long time in dying.”
There was no denying that. The thought of it had kept Tess terrified since her capture, and that terror was becoming harder and harder to fight. She prayed she would have the strength to die bravely, thus depriving Thurkettle and MacKinnon of their vicious sport. If she could not escape her fate, she desperately wanted to face it without any sign of cowardice.
She tried to think of some cutting reply and looked at MacKinnon only to tense. He was no longer staring at her face but at her legs. Tess cursed silently when she followed his gaze. Her dress was badly torn, her legs exposed up past her knee. The expression forming upon MacKinnon’s dark face told her that he was thinking of yet another way to hurt and humiliate her. She stiffened with revulsion when he ran his hand up her calf.
“I can see ye have guessed my thoughts,” he murmured. “A little pleasure ere we continue on toward the scaffold that waits for you.”
“Pleasure? From a traitor like you? I think not.”
“And I think ye will find me more of a man than that pale lackey ye have been rutting with.”
“More man? Ye flatter yourself.” She braced for his blow when he raised his hand, but Dermott grabbed him by the wrist, halting his attack.
“Leave her be, MacKinnon,” Dermott ordered. “There isna any time for that.”
“We are at least four hours ahead of any pursuit. Come, my friend, ye can have a turn as well. Ye canna tell me ye wouldna fancy plowing this field.”
“I would. She is a fair wee lass and clean. But, I have never kenned a ride that was worth risking my life for. That is what I would be doing if I paused for a quick rutting now.”
“Ye worry like an old woman,” MacKinnon snapped as he got to his feet.
“Do I? Better that than not worrying at all when there is good cause for it. ’Tisna only wasting precious time, which we have far too little of. There is something else ye would do well to consider—that we might lose this race.”
“What do ye mean? With such a lead, how can we lose?”
Dermott shrugged. “I dinna ken, but there is always that chance. Until we reach Thurkettle, we arena safe. Now, I ask ye, if we do fail and are caught by her kinsmen and her lover, do ye really want them to find her bruised and raped?” He nodded when MacKinnon frowned, concern etched upon his hawkish features. “Nay, I thought not.”
“Rein in that lust.” Dermott grabbed Tess by the arm and hefted her to her feet. “If ye want the lass badly, ask Thurkettle for her. He will owe ye for bringing her to him. He will probably let ye have a time or two ere he kills her.”
“Aye, he will.” MacKinnon briefly stroked Tess’s cheek. “I fear our moment of delight must wait, my Spanish harlot.”
Tess was about to spit at MacKinnon as he started to walk away, but Dermott gagged her. She winced as he roughly tossed her into the saddle. They would have to ride more slowly now because of the dark. Although the voice of common sense told her it would be foolish to do so, she prayed for some miracle. She was becoming certain that only some divine intervention could save her from the painful fate MacKinnon was taking her to.
CHAPTER 19
Fergus Thurkettle smiled broadly as he walked around Tess for the third time. She tried to stand tall but was not sure she succeeded. After riding almost without stopping for a day and a half, she was exhausted. Her legs trembled from the effort of keeping her upright. She was almost too tired to be afraid. That was a blessing of sorts, she supposed.
“Ye have done well, MacKinnon.” Fergus turned toward the man who sprawled in a chair, Dermott doing likewise at his side. “As ye have, Dermott. I am certain the Douglas will reward ye well.”
“I rather thought ye would reward me, sir.” Dermott took a hearty drink of wine from an ornate silver goblet. “She is a greater prize for you than she is for the Douglas. ’Tis why we rode here although the distance was a wee bit greater.”
After tightly grabbing Tess by the arm, Fergus dragged her over to a chair and roughly shoved her into it. He then sat down at the head of the table. His great hall was empty except for the four of them, and he regretted that decision now. If his men had been at hand, he could have ordered Dermott and MacKinnon killed, thus saving himself some coin. Once they were paid, they would be more wary and getting his coin back would be difficult.
“And what makes ye believe she is of more value to me than to the Douglas? In truth, with the final battle so near at hand, her silence isna of such great importance any longer.”
Dermott shook his head. “Although I pray for victory as vigorously as any man, there is always the chance that the battle might not go in our favor. A loss would make her silence even more important. She could be a strong witness against you.”
Tess met Thurkettle’s gaze with an outward calm. Whether Dermott got his blood money or not, she knew she would be killed. She had no intention of giving Thurkettle the pleasure of seeing her fear.
“And mayhaps the lass will finally recall her blood ties and stand silent through a sense of family loyalty,” Thurkettle said.
“And mayhaps she willna,” Tess answered.
“Ye would betray your own kinsman, your mother’s only brother?”
“Aye, just as she would if she were here in my place. Treason is a crime that severs all blood ties. My loyalty is to our king. Even if ye werena the low, slinking adder that ye are, I would stand loyal to him over you.”
“Ye cut your own throat with those words.”
“I am not such a fool as to believe that swearing silence will win me a pardon. Ye want me dead for more reasons than what I ken about you. I willna go to God with a lie still staining my tongue.”
“Ye were always too cursed proud for a mongrel.” Thurkettle poured himself some wine, took a sip, then looked at Dermott. “Ye didna bring me Halyard, so the bounty will be halved. After all, he can still speak against me.”
Dermott gave Thurkettle a hard glance. “I will have the full bounty and mayhaps a wee bit more besides. If ye willna give it to me, I shall take her to the Douglas.”
“He will pay ye no more than I will. Why should he?”
“To gain the fortune he doesna ken she has. Betrothing her to his nephew was but a ruse to ensure that ye had the right to hunt her and her lover down. The Douglas didna want a wedding, just her death. But, once he is told about her fortune, methinks there will be a very hasty wedding ere she is put to the sword. He and his nephew will hold all those riches ye so hunger for. Aye, and he willna be too pleased with the deception ye have practiced on him.”
Thurkettle clutched his goblet until his knuckles whitened. “Ye talk very boldly, mayhaps foolishly, for a man who sits within my grasp. I could have your throat cut. I but need to call out to my men.”
“Call them. Then ye can explain to the Douglas how it is that one of his kinsmen died in your keep.”
Tess watched Fergus very closely. He was afraid, and that only added to his rage. It interested her to see that her traitorous uncle feared the Douglas. She was not sure what good it would do her, but she did know that it never hurt to be aware of an enemy’s weaknesses.
“Although I find it very interesting to listen to traitors argue amongst themselves, do ye think I might be allowed something to drink?” Tess asked, meeting the glares of the men with a sweet smile. “I will need my wrists untied as well.”
“I dinna think ye understand the danger ye are in, lass,” Fergus said as he took his knife and cut her bonds.
Tess rubbed her bruised wrists, wincing as the feeling returned to them. “I understand perfectly. I am to die at your hands. The only uncertainty is how ye plan to do it.” She picked up a goblet. “Wine, please?”
As he poured the wine, Thurkettle studied her. “Either ye have more stomach than many a man or ye are fool enough to believe that ye might yet be rescued. Even if those foreign dogs ye call your kinsmen and that young stallion come hunting for you, ye will be dead ere they pass through my gates. Once ye were returned here, ye were as good as dead, lass.”
“Ever the gracious host. One always feels so comforted in the arms of one’s own family.”
“That sharp tongue of yours will soon be blessedly still.”
Before Tess could reply to that, Brenda entered the great hall. As always, Tess felt placed in the shade by the elegant, beautiful Brenda. As her cousin walked over to the table, Tess covertly watched Dermott and MacKinnon watch Brenda. Both men had greedy, lustful expressions on their faces, their eyes somewhat glazed with appreciation. She wondered how they could be such fools. Brenda was beautiful, but she was also ruthless. Tess knew her cousin could probably bed a man one night and calmly cut his throat the next morning if it suited her purpose to do so. It was not a characteristic that should be ignored, yet every man who saw Brenda seemed to do just that.
While Fergus introduced his daughter to Dermott, Tess turned her attention to the woman herself. It surprised her to catch Brenda giving Dermott an inviting glance. There was nothing about the man to draw Brenda’s interest. He was plain, broadly built, and very ordinary. Tess decided that her cousin simply liked men—any man. She tensed when Brenda finally rested her gaze upon her. The gleeful triumph she could read in that look made Tess uneasy.
“So ye have finally succeeded in catching the ungrateful child,” Brenda murmured as she sat down at the table.
“Aye.” Fergus relaxed in his seat. “MacKinnon brought her to me.”
Brenda smiled at MacKinnon, but her words were directed toward her father. “I hope ye plan to reward him. Mayhaps I can be of some help to you in that, Father.”
MacKinnon nodded at Brenda “ ’Tis an honor to await your pleasure, Mistress Brenda.”
“Ye willna have a very long wait,” Tess said. “Brenda’s pleasure is given very readily and often.”
“I suppose these pathetic wee insults make ye feel brave, Cousin.”
“Insults? I but spoke the truth. Mayhaps ye canna recognize it anymore?”
“Such wit.” Brenda looked at her father. “Why does she sit at our table sipping our wine as if she were some guest? Considering how she has eluded you and your men for so long, I should have thought that ye would be eager to secure her.” She pulled a delicate, lacy handkerchief from her sleeve and held it near her nose. “If naught else, ye should give a thought to our health. She is remarkably filthy.”
“I beg your pardon, Cousin. Riding without stop for nearly two days can make one a wee bit untidy.” She looked down at herself and gave a mournful sigh. “Ye are quite right. I am a sad mess. ’Tis odd that Sir MacKinnon didna notice when he attempted to inflict his lusts upon me, but ’tis clear that he isna too particular in his tastes.” She glanced at Brenda and saw by the flush upon her cousin’s face that the woman had understood the subtle slur.
It amused her a little when Brenda then glared at MacKinnon. Tess knew her cousin well enough to understand what it was that made Brenda angry. The woman did not like to share, especially not with her “mongrel” cousin. MacKinnon would not find Brenda too welcoming for a while. Stirring up a little discord between the pair was not much repayment for the death they intended to deal out to her, but Tess gained a faint sense of satisfaction.
“I believe we have had enough of your games, Contessa,” Fergus said. “Dermott, fetch the guards.” He smiled faintly at Tess. “Ye can stay in your lover’s old cell. Mayhaps he will soon be joining ye there.”
“She will be dead by then,” Brenda said with clear anticipation. “I hope ye arena fool enough to think he can save you this time, Cousin.”
“Your father and I already had this discussion,” Tess said, but Brenda ignored her.
“MacKinnon and Dermott are Douglas men,” Brenda said. “Those who might think to aid you will hie to one of the Douglas keeps. By the time the fools realize their error, the worms will be gnawing through your winding sheets.”
Those words were particularly cruel ones, Tess decided, even as two burly guards arrived to take her to the dungeons. She had not really given much thought of how difficult it would be for Revan and her kinsmen to find out where she had been taken. Brenda was right. They would assume she had been taken to the earl Douglas. That error would steal whatever small chance she might have to be rescued. It was not easy to keep her stance erect and proud as the guards led her to the dungeons.
 
 
“Why are we halting?” demanded Revan when Silvio ordered everyone to rein in just out of sight of Thurkettle’s keep. “Our goal lies just ahead.”
“Aye, and he will be watching for us. The snake hasna stayed alive for so long by being stupid.” Silvio scowled in the direction of Thurkettle’s tower house. “We need to take him by surprise, and that willna be easy.”
Revan shifted in his saddle and reluctantly nodded. He knew Silvio was right, and if he had had his wits about him, Revan knew he would have thought of that himself. It was hard to be sensible, however, when Tess was so close and so desperately in need of help. Even now, despite nearly killing their horses by riding them so hard for so long, it could be too late to save her.
He forced that chilling thought aside. Tess was still alive. He had to believe that. And, he mused as he glanced toward Thurkettle’s keep, he would make Thurkettle and his pack of curs pay dearly for every hurt she may have suffered and every moment of fear she had to endure.
“Tomas, I think ’tis time we see if our coin has been well spent,” Silvio said.
“What do ye mean?” Revan asked the man.
“We have a man within Thurkettle’s keep. At least, we paid well to have one.”
“For the whole time Tess had to stay there?”
“Nay, and ye need not tell me that that was a mistake. I can see it was. I dinna think the lass has told me even a small part of what she had to endure in that place.”
“She hasna told me much, either. What little I have learned hasna been good.” Revan watched Tomas dismount and start toward Thurkettle’s keep. “How can he reach the man? Thurkettle will have secured the place the moment Tess rode through the gates. No one will be able to get in or out.”
“This man claimed he could aid us in just such an event as this. He should be ready for our arrival, as he would ken that we would come after our Tess. But, I have my doubts about him now. He didna tell us that Thurkettle tried to kill Tess, and he has been in our pay long enough to have learned about it, even been there to witness the last little ‘accident’ Thurkettle planned.”
“He may not have realized what game Thurkettle was playing. Tess didna see it herself until forced to. When Thurkettle made it so clear that he wanted her dead, she recognized those strange accidents for what they really were.”
“ ’Tis pure God-given luck that she isna dead already. ’Tis certainly not because of me or mine. My brother must be cursing me from his grave. I set his only bairn in the hands of a murderer.”
“Ye did as ye were asked. Aye, and as ye said, ’twas something ye would have been forced to do. Since Thurkettle was ward of her fortune, then he had the right to claim her as well. ’Tis no use to belabor what was. She has been lucky. I but pray she continues to be so. I fear we havena seen much good fortune since we fled Thurkettle’s hold.”
Silvio smiled and shook his head. “Aye, ye have had more of it than most can claim in a lifetime. God’s sweet tears, Revan, ye have had nearly every man in the borderlands searching for you. Ye had Thurkettle’s and the Douglas’s hounds sniffing your trail, as well as every rogue and cur who had learned of the bounty, yet the pair of you made it to Donnbraigh unscathed.” Silvio laughed. “Sweet Mary, ye and Tess have had the Devil’s own luck. Dinna doubt that, laddie.”
Revan slowly smiled as he thought about Silvio’s opinion and saw the truth in it. “Aye, I guess we have been fortunate. It would seem that God doesna mean to take the lass yet. ’Twould be nice if He didna make her go through so many trials ere He let her ken she was safe.”
“I should be a wee bit wary of criticizing the Lord and His ways at the moment,” Silvio drawled. “We are in need of all the help we can muster.”
After Revan whispered a quick prayer of apology for his impudence, he fell silent. There was nothing left to do but wait for Tomas to return. He hated the delay but struggled to remain patient. Some gallant but ill-planned gesture born of his fears for Tess would hurt him more than he wished to think about.
When Tomas finally returned, Revan nearly screamed at the man to hurry. He gritted his teeth and clenched his fists as he fought to sit quietly while Tomas ambled over to them. Revan calmed himself a little with the knowledge that Tomas would not be so calm himself if he had met with failure.
“Our man was there?” Silvio asked as Tomas reached him.
“Aye, he was waiting. He was a wee bit worried that we might have ridden to the Douglas.”
“And our Tess is there?”
“Aye, brought in but two hours ago, so we did gain on the rogues.”
“Can he get us inside?”

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