Highland Hellion (Blades of Honor #1) (4 page)

Chapter 5

“Hand me the dirk, then hold him steady, Callum,” Logan shouted. “Seamus, grab his legs, and whatever you do, dinna let go.”

When Garrett heard his cousin’s voice, he struggled to open his eyes, but to no avail. Strong hands wrapped around his ankles like bands of iron. He couldn’t move his legs. The full weight of someone else’s body pressed on his right shoulder, pinning him to the ground. Then the hot metal touched his left arm, the nauseating stench of burnt flesh filling his nostrils, and he quickly found the strength of ten men.

Garrett cursed, then gritted his teeth against the excruciating pain. He bucked against the hands hobbling him, fought to break free. The person at his feet finally let go, just before Garrett hurled the bastard holding his right arm across the clearing as if he were a bairn’s rag doll.

“Calm down, Garrett. It’s over,” Logan said while squatting beside him. “I know it must have hurt like hell, but cauterizing the wound was the fastest way to stop the bleeding.” He placed his hand on Garrett’s uninjured shoulder. “Lay back and rest a bit, then we must be away. The Campbell’s men will be looking for us.”

“I was injured?” Garrett mumbled.

Logan hovered over him. “Aye, you were fighting three of the Campbell’s men when another crept up from behind and struck you on the head with a rock. When you toppled forward, one of the buggers lashed out with his blade at the same time, catching your left arm.”

“That would explain why my head feels like it is about to burst.” As his thoughts began to clear, Garrett remembered the confrontation and how their attempt at procuring supplies to get the clan went badly. The betrayal, the lord’s men waiting in ambush, it all came rushing back to him.

He glared at Logan. “Where were you when all this took place? I thought you had my back.”

“I was trying to cover my arse. Two of the buggers were determined to sever my head from my shoulders. I got to you as soon as I could, but it was too late.”

“I’m surprised they dinna finish me off,” Garrett said through clenched teeth.

“Nay, thank the Lord. They must have thought you were dead because they ran off when Callum and I charged at them.”

Garrett glanced around the clearing, then clutched Logan’s tunic and yanked his cousin toward him. “Where is Arya?”

“I’ll tell you, but only if you promise not to run off like a half-crazed madman.” Logan broke free of Garrett’s grasp, then stood.

“Where is she, damn it?” Garrett rolled to his side, then attempted to stand, but his legs gave way, and he flopped to the ground. He tried again. He had to get up and find Arya, but his limbs were too shaky to support his weight.

“Keep that up and you’ll have the wound opened and bleeding again,” Logan warned.

“Damnation Logan! Where is Arya?”

“The Campbell has her.”

“What do you mean he has her?” Garrett snapped.

“She was captured during the skirmish and taken prisoner.”

“And you did nothing to save her?”

“What would you have us do? They outnumbered us and carted her off under heavy guard before anyone had a chance to think. She put up one hell of a fight.”

Garrett cursed and pounded his fist on the ground. “That is what I feared. The stubborn lass will refuse to yield, and the Campbell willna take her obstinacy lightly. Providing she is still alive.” Garrett moaned when he touched the throbbing lump on the back of his head. “Did you see where they took her?” His stomach twisted with anger at the thought of Arya in the Campbell’s dungeon, or worse, the pit.

“Nay, we were too busy hauling your arse out of harm’s way. However, I overheard someone say they took her to the
donjon in the castle
and would be held there pending the Campbell’s orders,” Logan replied.

“You should have left me there and went after Arya instead. We have to go back and rescue her.” This time, Garrett managed to rise to his knees. “Help me up.”

Logan slid his arm around Garrett’s waist, then tugged until his cousin stood upright. “You are not going anywhere in your condition. The wound you sustained might not be life-threatening, but you lost a lot of blood and are as weak as a newly born colt. Push it and things can quickly go from bad to worse. Not to mention the nasty lump on the back of your head.”

“I’ll manage,” Garrett grumbled and took a wobbly step, followed by another. “We canna leave her there. If you willna help me, I will do it by myself. Either way, I am going to get her back.”

“Dinna be a fool, Garrett. Even if you were strong enough to ride, and Seamus, Callum, and I went with you, the four of us are no match for the Campbell’s warriors. One hundred against four poorly armed men are rotten odds.”

“Then I will go alone.” Garrett said. “I willna leave the woman I love in the hands of the enemy. Not while there is a breath left in my body.” The confession of his feelings for Arya slipped out before he could stop them. “Bring me a sword and anything else I might need.”

Logan shook his head. “We were lucky to get out alive. There was no time to worry about our weapons. Aside from a broadsword, two dirks, and a targe, we have nothing.”

Garrett staggered forward, then sat on a nearby stump and cradled his face in his hands, praying the pounding in his head would stop. “They will have to suffice.”

“The Lord of Argyll will be expecting us to come for her, so she will be heavily guarded,” Callum pointed out as he and Seamus approached. “Is it safe to return?” He stopped a few feet away from where Garrett sat and out of arm’s reach.

“Aye.” Logan nodded. “He has more pressing matter on his mind.”

Garrett glanced up at his friend. “I’m sorry for tossing you, Callum. I wasn’t in my right mind at the time. Strange how having a hot blade thrust into your flesh can do that to you.”

“I dinna blame you,” Callum said, smiling.

“But my cousin is right, my arm isna the issue.” Garrett returned his attention to Logan. “What about Arya? I refuse to abandon her.” He glanced around the clearing. “Where are the rest of our men?”

“Some of our kinsmen were killed or wounded during the skirmish. The rest fled into the mountains. Callum, Seamus, and I were able to drag you away in the commotion, and we were fortunate enough to round up a couple of horses.”

“Good. There is no time to dally. We must go back for Arya,” Garrett said.

“Unfortunately, we canna return to the Campbell’s castle. Not yet. If we get ourselves killed or captured, we’ll be of no use to her. With any luck, they will make her stand trial and buy us a day or so to plan.”

“What if Campbell decides to forgo the trial and punish her according to the Jedburgh Justice—the Law of Pit and Gallows? It is well within his right to execute her without a trial. The Campbell can drown any woman in a pit of water or hang any man accused stealing on his property.”

“It is possible.” Logan scratched his chin. “But my guess is he will use her to set an example. Show others what happens to those who dare steal from the Lord of Argyll, be they a man or a woman. There was no love lost between the Campbell and Arya’s father. He may see punishing Arya as a means to get even for wrongs of the past. Either way, I fear he willna show leniency and will drag the sentencing out as long as he can.”

“All the more reason to go back for her
now
.” Garrett slammed his fist against the tree stump.

“Nay, it is the reason we need to return home, regroup, and calmly figure out a way to free her. Going off without thinking it through will only get her killed, and you as well. This isna the time to let your feelings for the lass rule your head.”

“You have no idea what you are blathering about,” Garrett snapped.

“You just admitted you are in love with her,” Logan reminded him. “Besides, it is no secret you have been smitten with her since you were a lad.”

Garrett bit back another curse. His cousin knew him too well. Logan also made sense when he suggested they wait and plan the rescue. While his heart dictated he throw caution to the wind and rush headlong into the castle with his sword drawn and demand her release, it was a fool’s errand at best. “If anything happens to Arya, I will never forgive myself. I should never have let her accompany us.”

“Second-guessing your decision willna change things.” Logan placed his hand on Garrett’s shoulder. “She insisted on coming, and there was nothing you could have done to stop her. Had you left her behind, she would have followed us.”

“Then I should have tied her to a tree so she couldna tag along,” Garrett snapped. “It is my fault for not doing everything in my power to stop her.”

“I’d have liked to have seen you try.” Logan chuckled. “Arya knew the risks. She is not like other women, but then you already know that. She has more skills than many of the men who accompanied us and fought like a warrior. At one point I caught a glimpse of her battling two of Campbell’s men at the same time, and she appeared to have the upper hand. Unfortunately, I lost sight of her, and it was not long after that I learned she’d been captured, along with six of our men.”

“Logan is right.” Seamus stepped forward. “We need to return home and warn our kin to be prepared for a possible retaliatory visit from the Campbell’s men. Once we know our wives and bairns are safe, we can gather some volunteers, rearm ourselves, and try to figure out the best way to get Arya and the others home safely.”

Logan did not wait for Garrett’s rebuttal. “Callum, fetch the horses. We will have to ride two aback, but it is better than walking.”

Callum nodded, then sprinted off, returning a few moments later with two destriers.

“I know you are worried about Arya and with good reason, cousin. But this is the only way,” Logan said as he hoisted Garrett into the saddle. “If we leave now, we’ll be home by nightfall. We can secure the village, gather the men, and leave at first light.”

Garrett had no choice but to comply. His strength was waning, and without extra men, trying to get into Campbell’s keep would be useless. “What am I going to tell her mother? I promised Scotia, I would not allow Arya to go on any more raids.”

“She knows how stubborn her daughter can be.” Logan mounted behind Garrett, then grasped the reins. “Tell her the truth, and that we plan to do everything in our power to get her back.”

“Easier said than done,” Garrett replied, then released a heavy sigh. “Best we make haste. Every minute is precious if we have any hope of rescuing Arya.”

“Glad you, agree.”

“Do I have another option?” Garrett grumbled.

“Nay. Let’s go,” Logan shouted to the others, then kicked his horse into a trot.

The guard opened the heavy wooden door, revealing the steep stairs leading into the dungeon. Arya’s stomach twisted at the sickening stench of excrement and death wafting up from the bowels of the castle. It was worse than she’d remembered. She drew in a deep breath and took her first step.

“Make haste. We dinna have all bloody day,” the man growled and shoved her from behind.

She tripped, then tumbled down the steps, landing at the base of the stairs on her hands and knees. Arya rocked back on her heels, resting for a minute on the cold, damp floor, before slowly rising. She glared at the guard. “Let’s get on with it.”

“You willna be in such an all-fired rush once you’ve seen what the Campbell has in store for you,” a second guard said as he joined them. He carried a torch, providing enough light to see down a long, dank corridor. “Move,” he said then placed his hand on her shoulder and pushed.

Arya battled the urge to fight back, to turn on these two blackguards and do anything she could to escape. But she had no weapon and given their brawn, any attempt would be futile. All she could do was comply for now and pray that Garrett came for her before it was too late. If he was still alive to do so. She’d seen a group of male prisoners on their way to the pit. She counted six, but Garrett was not among them.

Arya reached the end of the hallway and the second guard unlocked the door to a cell, then ushered her inside. The first guard joined them.

It took a few minutes for her eyes to adjust to a room lit by a single barred window located at the very top of the wall, the narrow opening was the only source of light and fresh air.

In one corner of the cell stood a rack, used to stretch a man until he confessed his sins or died a horrible death. In the other was a Judas Chair, known as the chair of torture due to the 500-plus metal spikes on which the prisoner was forced to sit. An Iron Maiden hung from the ceiling and shackles lined the walls.

“Move along, lassie. Your new home awaits. Hope you dinna mind sharing it with the rats.” The first guard kicked at one of the rodents as it scurried across his boot.

He grabbed her arm and dragged her past a large wooden table, on which lay an assortment of metal hooks, whips, thumbscrews, a lead sprinkler, and other macabre items.

The guard paused and picked up an ominous-looking implement of torture. He grinned, then waved the oval-shaped object in front of Arya’s face. “Do you know what this is?” He didn’t wait for her to answer. “The Pear of Anguish. My personal favorite when dealing with a wench who willna yield.” He turned the crank, the sharp metal leaves opening like a deadly flower, then he tossed back his head and laughed. “Care to try it out?”

Show no fear.

Arya swallowed hard against the lump rising in her throat. She’d not give this sadistic bastard the satisfaction of knowing just how terrified she was. “I’ll pass,” she managed to reply, then stepped away from the table.

“Get on with it, Niall, we are about to be relieved by the next round of guards, and I for one am anxious to leave this rat-infested pisshole, get myself a tankard of ale, and something to eat,” the second guard called out. “Shackle her to the wall and let’s be away.”

“Go on ahead, I will join you shortly,” Niall replied, grinning.