Highland Hunger (8 page)

Authors: Hannah Howell

BOOK: Highland Hunger

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“Best come in then. First ye can bathe the dust away and then come and join us in the great hall. I ken ye must be weary, but, if the tale ye have to tell is of great importance, the quicker ye join us in the hall the better. There isnae much time left ere many of us will have to seek our rest.”

The moment she stepped inside the keep, two plump, cheerful maids took Una away. She was thoroughly bathed, her hair washed and rubbed dry, and then she was dressed in a lovely blue gown. It surprised her that the gown was not too short. Perhaps the women of Cambrun were as tall and braw as their men, she mused, and briefly smiled at her own foolishness.

Once readied to face the others in the MacNachton clan, Una stepped out of the room only to find Raibeart waiting for her. “Ye didnae have to wait. The maid Jenna told me how to find the hall.”

Raibeart took her by the arm and led her down the stairs. “I will escort ye to your chair.”

“I was wondering why Angus fled as I didnae think he kenned that there were any of us who were stronger, had purer blood,” she said. “He couldnae ken that ye were stronger and more dangerous than any he had met before.”

“Mayhap he did. He could have heard a few tales. Was he born at Dunmorton?”

“Aye, and he has been a hunter for the laird for a verra long time. The laird is a follower, nay a leader, but he has been doing this for a long time under the orders of another, so ’tis verra possible Angus has heard some tales of your clan.”

She stopped walking when they reached the big heavy doors to the great hall. There were a lot of strangers awaiting her inside the hall, people who did not know her but were tied to her by blood. Una was suddenly terrified that she would do something that would make them all wish she had remained lost. Then Raibeart pulled her into his arms and kissed her, making all her fears burn away before the rush of desire his kisses always caused.

“Ye will be fine, love,” he said, pulling back and returning her arm to its place, locked with his. “We need ones like you. Our blood is thin and old. We need fresh blood to survive. Now, take a deep breath, let it out slowly, and come and meet your kinsmen.”

Chapter Eight

“Eight?”

Una looked at the laird, Cathal MacNachton, wondering how a man could put such fury behind one small word. He was a very handsome man who looked to be in his thirties, his much smaller blond wife a few years younger. Bridget was obviously the laird’s Outsider bride. As Efrica was Jankyn’s, she thought, casting a quick glance toward the couple who were both so gracefully beautiful they made her feel like a cow.

“Aye,” replied Raibeart. “There are eight Lost Ones at Dunmorton. Four women, two youths, and two bairns.”

“Bairns? He is holding bairns prisoner?” Cathal hissed.

“Two wee lassies named Joan and Alma. He keeps them in cages in his dungeon.”

Raibeart nearly grinned when every MacNachton in the great hall growled in fury. He glanced at Una and had to swallow a laugh. She was not afraid but she was certainly surprised. He had wanted her to see that anger, to see that proof that the MacNachtons would truly rescue her friends. Raibeart knew she had not fully cast aside her doubts about their readiness to help her. This show of MacNachton rage should be enough to show her that his clan was not only ready, but also eager. He had eked out the tale of their meeting and what she needed in a way guaranteed to feed that anger.

“Why?” asked Bridget. “It saddens me to even say it, but usually these men just kill the Lost Ones, or any MacNachton they get their hands on. Why has he caged these?”

“It appears this laird is mad, milady,” Raibeart answered. “And, by a stroke of luck, a bad one for us, the mon swallowed the blood of a woman named Allana when he fought with her, trying to force her into his bed. The wounds she had dealt him healed quickly and it gave him an idea.” He nodded when both Bridget and Efrica paled. “It didnae take many potions made from her blood for him to see that he was right, that the blood made him healthier and stronger. So he captured more Lost Ones for their blood. He now shares his potions with five chosen men, his personal guard.”

“E’en the bairns?” Bridget whispered.

“Aye, milady,” Una replied, “and ’tis the wee ones I am most afraid for.”

“And I thought the one who held my son for such a thing was but an aberration.”

“This has happened before?”

“Once. It was by men who hadnae planned on taking a prisoner for his blood. They were but testing our strengths and weaknesses.”

“This madmon doesnae care about that. He used to hand the ones he caught over to some other laird, but he wanted Allana first. He and his men are nay very careful in what they take, either. I told the fool he would kill us if he wasnae more careful, that he could nay keep us starving and bleed us for long before we started dying. He just said there were more of us.”

“We will leave as soon as the sun sets,” said Cathal. “That madmon and his guard must be silenced and our kin released.”

The cheer from the others in the room was so loud Una nearly covered her ears. She noticed that the other women looked inclined to do so as well. Nevertheless, it warmed her heart. These people wanted her and the others, wanted to save them and give them a home. She quickly took a drink of cider to quell the urge to cry. When Raibeart slipped his hand over hers, she clung to it.

“And, now, Una Dunn,” the laird said and fixed his golden brown stare on her, “we need ye to tell us every little thing ye ken about Dunmorton and its people. This laird not only harms our kinsmen and women, he now kens a secret about our blood that must never reach the ears of others.”

Una nodded. “I ken it. When I realized what he was doing, I kenned it could mean doom for anyone who was like the others and me. The superstitious and the hunters are danger enough but can be fought and watched for. If people thought our blood could heal all ills or make them more powerful, every mon who heard of it would be hunting us down. They would fight each other for the chance.”

“Exactly. Are ye certain Dunmorton’s laird isnae the head of this snake?”

“I am certain. He speaks of the other one, has sent others he has captured straight to the mon. Now he doesnae trust him and doesnae send him anyone. He thinks the laird who has been ordering him about has been keeping the secret of the blood all to himself.”

Cathal nodded. “That is quite possible. ’Tis disappointing that we have yet to find the one who leads these fools. The few we have e’er spoken to ere they died had only kenned the mon who leads them as The Laird. Nay verra helpful. With the escape of this mon Angus, there is a chance the laird will be warned of our coming.”

“Mayhap, but I dinnae truly think so.”

“Why not?”

“Because he kens we are all orphaned or unwanted. He will think that, because ye didnae take us in years ago, ye certainly are nay going to come rushing into a battle to save us.”

“Ye dinnae think Angus will tell him about Raibeart saving you?”

“Och, aye, he will, but that was mere chance and Angus ne’er saw Raibeart, um, acting like a Pureblood.” She looked at Raibeart. “Ye said he was gone by the time ye started to fight with his men, aye?”

Raibeart nodded. “He fled the moment he realized I was at a place where I could call for help and get it. At best, he may think I am like you. Howbeit, that may be something he rushes to tell his laird, so I think he will need silencing as weel. If he paused in his retreat for e’en a moment, he would have seen the others come to my aid.” Raibeart shrugged. “He is the leader of that pack of hunters, though.”

“Reason enough to kill him,” said Jankyn.

“Ye are going, arenae ye?” said Efrica, looking from her husband to the laird and back again.

“Aye,” Jankyn and Cathal said together.

Bridget sighed and stood up, revealing a well-rounded belly. “Come along, Effie. We shall need to leave word concerning the supplies they will need for the journey ere we seek our beds.”

Cathal stood and kissed Bridget’s cheek. “Dinnae stay awake for too long, love. Ye need your rest.”

Una watched the two women leave, Efrica’s shape revealing that she, too, was carrying a child. Her womb clenched in a spasm of jealousy, but she shook it aside. It was foolish and now was not the time to think on her own future. Eight people were suffering. She turned her attention back to the rescue plan, ready to answer all the questions the MacNachtons might have. Una also grabbed the chance to make it clear that she was going with them. Reminding the men that none of the prisoners knew them finally won her that argument.

She was trying to fight a yawn only an hour later, and Raibeart gently urged her to go to bed. Una politely excused herself and retreated to the room she had been given. A maid appeared to help her, and within a very short time, she was in a fine linen night shift, washed, her hair braided, and curled up beneath warm blankets on a fine feather-stuffed mattress. Her last clear thought was to wonder if Raibeart would be joining her in this bed or if, now that he was back with his family, he would step away from her. She was so tired that even the hurt that thought caused was not enough to keep her awake.

Raibeart took a drink of wine, knowing both Jankyn and Cathal were watching him closely. He sighed, put his goblet down, and answered the question he could read on their faces. “Aye, she is mine.”

“I didnae see the mark on her,” said Cathal.

“Watching how the rest of ye struggled with your women, ones nay born to this life, I decided to wait and talk to her first. It wasnae easy, for the beast in me is demanding I mark her mine, but kenning that she is a lass who needs to choose, I have held back.”

Cathal nodded. “Aye, she has suffered and nay only at the hands of that madmon who kept her in a cage. He treated the women as his own wee clutch of lemans, didnae he?”

“He did, but he didnae get to her. She said he feared her. I suspicion she could look him in the eye, and even though she is three steps away from being a Pureblood, the MacNachton blood runs strong in her. I would have recognized her as a Lost One the moment I saw her except for that fair hair. She fought like one.” He looked at Cathal. “She isnae the Outsider bride ye were wanting for me, though.”

“Wheesht, it doesnae matter. She is still new blood. She is also more proof that it might be impossible to breed out all that makes us MacNachtons. I accepted that long ago. She doesnae ken all the secrets of our blood though, does she?”

“Nay, although I am thinking that mad laird does.” He told Cathal what the man had said about outliving his sons.

“Have ye told her how old ye are?”

“Nay. ’Tis another thing I thought I had best be cautious about.”

Jankyn grinned. “Aye, old mon. Best step carefully around that hard truth.”

Raibeart looked at Jankyn. “Ye are nay so much younger than I, but I think, after a wee shock, she will accept it. After all, we now ken that she can stay young, too, and she has no reluctance about her small need for blood.”

“I wish ye luck,” said Cathal. “Ye are already lucky in that she was nay raped and she is accepting of what ye, what all of us, are. I meant to ask ye if all the other lasses were treated as harshly.”

“Aye, but nay too often. Allana, the first he grabbed, learned that the mon needs a lass to be afraid and to fight to make him a mon. Two of the others didnae or couldnae heed her advice to not fight the bastard and did suffer some. Another, called Madeleine, can swoon whene’er she wants, so she has escaped that cruelty. None of them can escape the cages, the lack of food and water, or being bleed, though.”

“We will free them. Get some rest, Raibeart.”

As he climbed the narrow stone steps, Raibeart knew he should leave Una alone and retire to his own bedchamber down in the caves. He did not have the willpower to be so discreet, however. In his mind and heart, in his very soul, she was already his. What he needed was for her to accept him in the same way. Despite the fact that she had gifted him with her innocence, he could not be certain she cared for him as he needed her to.

It was a bad time for this, he decided as he slipped into the bedchamber she had been given. There was no time to woo her gently, no time for slowly telling her the full truth about the MacNachtons. One had to ease into such revelations and be prepared to stand firm through the storm that could result. Instead, they would both be riding toward Dunmorton as soon as the sun set.

When he climbed into bed beside her, she softly murmured his name and curled up in his arms. Raibeart did not want her to go back to Dunmorton. The journey and the freeing of the prisoners would be dangerous. She had lived with enough danger in her life. Yet she had argued the need for her presence with reasons that could not be denied. She knew the way in, knew where to look for the guards, and knew where the laird was within the keep itself. Easy things to tell him, but better if showed by the knowledgeable one when they actually got to Dunmorton.

It was her reminder that they were after rescuing eight people, four women, two youths, and two bairns, all whom had been gravely abused by their captors, captors who were all men, that had really won her place in the rescue, however. The quickest way to calm the prisoners and herd them out was to have a person they trusted do it. He would just have to make certain that she was well protected every step of the way.

“Raibeart?”

He kissed her on the forehead. “Aye. Who did ye think it was?”

“I wasnae sure if they had put me in your bedchamber or nay,” Una said as she stroked his chest, enjoying the feel of all that taut, warm skin beneath her hand.

“ ’Tis nay my bedchamber, but I was told where they had put ye.”

“How presumptuous of the maid.”

“Actually it was the laird.” He grinned when she laughed, her warm breath caressing his chest.

“I should be humiliated.” She decided she was too tired to care what others thought. “Does he think I am your leman?”

“Nay, he just kenned that we were lovers.”

“There is a difference?”

“Aye, of course there is, but dinnae expect me to explain it now or my tongue will get so tied up in knots I willnae be able to kiss you.”

She lifted her head to smile at him. “Is that what ye plan to do? Kiss me?”

“That and mayhap a wee bit more.”

“Och, nay, ’tis ne’er a wee bit.”

Raibeart was still laughing when he kissed her.