Highland Savage (14 page)

Catching sight of a trickle of blood running down the side of Malcolm’s pale face, Katerina took a step toward him. She was grabbed by the arm and yanked back to stand with Ranald. Her arm aching from the rough handling, she was prepared to protest such treatment. Something in the way Ranald looked at her made her glance around and she realized one of the two men who had entered with him was now gone. Then something slammed into her head and, as she fell to the floor, the last clear sight she had was the horrified looks on the faces of Matthew and Brock.

Matthew watched Ranald and his men carry Katerina away and then turned to look at Morrison. That man sat in a chair near the padded bench he had set Malcolm down on, bent over and burying his face in his hands. Sorley looked pale and upset but nowhere near as devastated as Morrison.

“I cannae believe this of ye, of either of ye,” Matthew finally said. “Have ye given any thought to what that swine will do to that poor young woman?”

“I suspicion he means to make sure that she is really dead this time,” Morrison said in a flat voice.

“Because she is a threat to him, of course. Tell me, how long do ye think it will be ere he sees us as a threat to him? I dinnae think sacrificing that poor young woman has really bought ye verra much more time with your wee treasures.” He moved closer to Malcolm and stared at Morrison until the man relinquished his seat. “With a woman that bonnie, I think ye may nay need to wait until Ranald assures your silence. I wouldnae be surprised if we soon have another visitor—one who willnae be verra happy at all to discover what ye have done.”

“Gone? What do ye mean? Where did she go?” Lucas felt bad that he seemed to be scaring Annie, but finding no sign of Katerina terrified him.

“She went to see that council. They had one of their meetings today in the village and she went there. ’Tis at Daniel Morrison’s house.” Annie had to yell, for Lucas was
already running down the passage that would lead him out of the cave, William, Patrick, and Robbie right behind him. “And nary a one of them giving a thought as to hiding their faces or hair.” She shook her head. “The whole village is going to be seeing them.”

Lucas knew he had men following him, but he did not slow down at all to see who had decided to watch his back. He had rushed everyone back to the caves, cutting their hunting time a little, because he could not shake free of a sense of impending danger. He had tried to ignore it, tried to talk himself out of it, even tried to drown it with a hearty drink from his wineskin, but it had continued to gnaw at him. Unable to concentrate on finding meat for the table any longer, he had decided to just get back to the caves, see Katerina, and get rid of the feeling since it seemed to be born of a fear for her safety. Instead he had found her gone, off to meet with the council, and his feeling of foreboding had turned into an utter conviction that she was in trouble.

“A somewhat more cautious approach to whatever it is we are charging toward might be a good idea,” said Robbie as he caught up to Lucas and kept pace at his side.

“I will use stealth when we reach Morrison’s house,” Lucas said. “That is where Katerina went. The council is meeting there.” He heard William cursing from close behind him.

“At times that lass shows no sense at all,” William said.

“Senseless to go alone, but one cannae really argue with her about the need to talk to the council.”

Moving into the shadows of the house directly across the rutted road from Morrison’s home, Lucas finally stopped to catch his breath. There was no sign that there was any real trouble at the house but the feeling of danger still lingered. As Patrick slipped away to get a closer look, Lucas stood waiting, feeling so tense he was surprised something did not snap.

“Morrison’s house is looking much finer than it used to,” murmured Robbie as he stared at the house, clearly not looking for something appropriate such as a footprint.

Lucas was still trying to just ignore that useless observation, when he suddenly realized it was not useless at all. If there had been obvious improvements to Morrison’s house one had to ask why, and, more important, where had the funds come from. If Morrison was helping himself to any of the wealth of Dunlochan then Katerina was definitely in danger.

“I can only see five men in the house and all of them are men I know,” said Patrick as he slipped into the shadows right beside Lucas.

“But no Katerina?”

Patrick shook his head. “Something has happened, though, for cousin Malcolm is laid out on a bench and Matthew and Brock are arguing with Morrison and Sorley. That is verra strange, for Malcolm would ne’er get in a fight, so why is he unconscious on that bench? And Matthew and Brock are calm, soft-spoken fellows who dinnae have much of a temper yet they are tearing into Morrison and Sorley. The oddest of it all is that Morrison and Sorley are just standing there accepting it, nay e’en raising their voices.”

William scowled toward the house. “Aye, strange indeed, for both those men are quick with their fists.”

“It has already happened,” Lucas whispered and sprinted for the house.

“What has happened?” asked Robbie as he, Patrick, and William followed Lucas.

“He thinks something has happened to Katerina,” replied William. “If it has, I
wouldnae wish to be one of those fools right now.”

Lucas slammed through the door, ignoring the pain that careened through his shoulder. He could hear raised voices and ran toward them. As when he had run out of the caves, he could hear the others close behind him, but he did not wait for them. He threw himself into the door of the room where the voices were coming from, only partly aware of how they abruptly stopped. Standing in the doorway he studied the four men gaping at him. He spared one fleeting glance at the man on the bench who was just beginning to rouse and then fixed his stare on the other four, who subtly shifted closer together.

“Where is she?” he demanded.

“Where is who?” Morrison looked at the door hanging crooked, one twisted hinge all that was keeping it from hitting the floor. “What have ye done to my door?”

“What I will do to ye if ye dinnae tell me where Katerina Haldane is. Now.”

“I would be telling him if I were ye,” said Patrick as he carefully stepped around the shattered door. “He isnae in a verra good humor right now.”

“He will be in a worse one soon,” grumbled Morrison, only to squeak in an odd high-pitched voice when Lucas was suddenly there in front of him, his hand on Morrison’s throat and holding him a few inches off the ground.

“If ye wish to breathe again, I suggest ye tell me where she is,” Lucas said, and, when Morrison still appeared to hesitate, slammed him up against the wall.

“Gone,” Morrison managed to croak.

Patrick, William, and Robbie encircled Lucas and his captive and William said quietly, “I dinnae think it will help anything if ye strangle the fool.”

“It might help me,” said Lucas, his voice a soft snarling sound.

William lightly touched Lucas’s arm. “Only until they hang ye.”

Lucas closed his eyes and took a long, deep breath to try to push down the rage and fear that had him behaving so savagely. One by one he removed his fingers from the man’s throat. Morrison collapsed to his knees, gasping for air. A little calmer, Lucas cursed his fury for it appeared it would be a while before Morrison could speak again. He felt no remorse over what he had done, just a little regret that he had not waited until he had gotten the answers he needed.

“He told me to go and get Ranald,” Sorley said, pointing at Morrison, who actually gathered up enough strength to glare.

“For a mon who is always so eager to set on a fellow with his fists flying, ye seem to have a lot of the coward in ye,” said Matthew after hastily introducing himself to Lucas, the one man he did not know. When Sorley leapt toward him, Matthew neatly caught the wrist of his right hand, stopping the hard fist aimed at his head. He then quickly and efficiently knocked Sorley out with a hard right to the jaw.

“Weel done, Matthew,” said Brock.

“I dinnae fight, old friend, because I choose not to fight, nay because I cannae.”

“A good time to fight would have been a year ago when the daughter of your good friend was killed,” snapped Lucas.

“’Twas said she had killed herself because ye had left her,” Matthew said quietly.

“I ne’er believed it,” said Malcolm as William helped him sit up. “I said it, but none of ye would heed me, and, coward that I am, I ceased to speak about it”

“Ach, ye are nay a coward, Malcolm,” said Brock. “Ye are a scholar, nay a
warrior. ’Tis your way. Aye, and ye asked Morrison for the books, letting him ken that ye smelled something wrong. Matthew and I have been sniffing that stink for a while and we ne’er got the courage to ask. Ye did.” He looked at Lucas. “And, aye, we should have done something. All we did do was make sure none could claim Dunlochan. I thought it was because we shared the belief that something was wrong but,” he glanced at Morrison and Sorley, “’tis easy to see now that some agreed simply because they didnae want Agnes to have full control of the purse they were dipping their greedy hands into.”

“We can discuss that later,” said Lucas. “Ranald has Katerina?”

Malcolm nodded and then winced. “He does. He has taken her to Dunlochan. I am nay sure how long she will survive.”

“They will try to use her to draw me into their trap. I plan on snatching that bait right out of their greedy hands and then ending this threat as it should have been ended months ago.” He swung around, fighting the urge to punish all the men for what Katerina had been suffering, and marched out of the room.

William watched all die men on the council wince, some of them looking far more remorseful than theirs, and shook his head. “Malcolm, ye, Matthew, and Brock watch these two thieves. When this is done, we will be looking for them.” He hurried after Lucas suspecting that the man was going to need someone with a cool head to hold him back from making a hasty, ill-thought out, and probably fatal mistake.

Her head hurt so badly and pounded so loudly Katerina felt sure she would soon be sick. She felt very reluctant to open her eyes and she wondered why that should be so. From what she could feel beneath her hands and her body she was stretched out on a table. Keeping very still helped to control the pain in some small way, but every instinct she had was loudly demanding that she should get up and run, run as fast and as far as she could. It took a moment of careful thought before she realized why she should feel that way.

She had been betrayed. One of the men her father had trusted, had considered his friend, had handed her over to Ranald. Katerina had not been surprised to discover that some of the men on that council had been stealing from Dunlochan. She had suspected it, but she was still shocked and disappointed. She just prayed that she would live long enough to be able to have a close look at those ledgers so that she could find out exactly how much she had lost.

A hand grasped her by the shoulder so tightly Katerina could feel long, sharp fingernails begin to sink through her clothes and pierce her skin. One shake was all it took to stir up all she had just managed to calm by sheer force of will. The burning feeling in the back of her throat that always heralded a bout of nausea made her cough. She tried again to push the nausea aside, hating the feel and the taste of it, but especially hating the feeling of having no control over her own body when it hit. All she needed to do was lie very still and breathe slowly and deeply and it would fade, she told herself.

“I ken ye are awake, Katerina. Open your eyes. Now.”

That punishing hand shook her again, a little harder this time. The sharp voice was painful to her ears, making her head throb even more. Katerina lost her battle with her nausea. She quickly felt around for the edge of whatever she was lying on, then leaned over, and was so sick that she heard nothing but her own misery. It was not until the retching began to ease its grip on her that she heard a man’s low, mean laugh and a woman’s voice uttering a stream of curses.

“The bitch has emptied her belly all over my new slippers!”

“Do be quiet, Agnes. I warned ye to stand back as I so quickly did. Ranald had to hit her hard on the head to make certain she went down and made no trouble. Such wounds often cause a person to feel sick.”

Slumping back down onto what she finally realized was one of the tables in the great hall, Katerina cautiously opened her eyes. She nearly closed them again and not just because the light hurt her eyes and increased the pounding in her head. Freda and Ranald began to move closer to the table, carefully stepping around a plump maid who had already been dragged over to clean up the mess she had made. The only good thing Katerina could see before her eyes was Agnes fleeing the room.

As her vision cleared, Katerina stared at Ranald. She thought on how the man had tortured Lucas, of all the sword cuts and painful bruises he had inflicted upon Lucas’s fine body, and she ached to kill the man. Some of the rage she felt must have shown itself in her eyes, for Freda and Ranald hesitated just a moment before taking those last few steps toward her. Although she did not like the taste of the anger and hatred she felt, Katerina did not fight it. She knew it was all that was holding back a great deal of fear.

“Shouldnae we wait for dear Agnes to return ere we have our loving reunion?” she asked.

“Agnes will do exactly as I tell her to do,” said Freda.

“And why should Agnes do for ye as she has ne’er done for another?”

“Because she is my daughter, ye little fool.”

Katerina wanted to ask the woman to repeat that, desperately wanted to have misheard her, but she hastily bit back the request. She knew she could not pretend that she was not shocked or surprised for her expression had undoubtedly given her away. Freda looked smug and Katerina wished she had the strength to sit up and slap the look off the woman’s face.

Then she thought of her father and felt both hurt and angry. He had never told her and he must have known. He had demeaned the mother of his child, placing her in the position of a servant and forcing her to live a lie. Worse, he had held to that lie for years, even when Katerina’s mother had been alive. Katerina did not believe her mother had ever been told the truth for the woman would never have tolerated such treatment or such a lie. There was only one reason Katerina could think of for her father to do such a thing, yet she had never heard even the softest whisper or hint that her father had lovers. A man keeping his leman in the same keep as his lawful wife was not something that could easily be kept a secret. The smile that slowly curved Freda’s thin lips made Katerina fear that that was exactly what her father had done.

“Aye,” said Freda as if she savored the word, and crossing her arms over her ample chest. “Your father was a hard bastard. His poor foolish wife ne’er guessed just how heartless he was.”

Ranald snorted. “If ye are trying to make her think the old laird had her mother and ye, best forget playing that game. Aye, I have heard that he was a hard mon, but, nay, he wouldnae do that, and he certainly couldnae have kept it a secret for so long. The mon wasnae your lover save for that one time.” Ranald laughed. “Jesu, woman, he barely recalled who ye were from one day to the next. If his friend hadnae confirmed your tale and Agnes didnae look so much like a Haldane, he ne’er would have recognized Agnes, either.”

Katerina almost gaped at Ranald, but then she caught the look in his eyes. He had not ended Freda’s attempt to lie about her relationship to the old laird out of some sudden, strange twist of sympathy. He just wanted to strike out at Freda. Obviously the two were allies but not friends. Katerina suspected Freda gave the orders and Ranald found some of them hard to tolerate, or he just loathed being commanded by a woman.

“So what game do we play here?” asked Katerina, speaking up before Freda could strike out at Ranald as she so clearly wanted to. A fight between the pair could be useful but not until she had recovered from the blow to her head enough to at least stand up. “’Tis the same as when ye captured Lucas, isnae it.” Katerina made a soft tsk-tsk. Too lazy to think of something different, are ye? Something that might actually work?”

This will work,” snapped Freda. “Sir Murray will come for ye and then we will have both of ye in our grasp. This time there will be no mistakes. Nay, I will kill ye both myself if I must.”

“And ye dinnae think that anyone will become suspicious?”

“Why should they? Everyone at Dunlochan thinks ye and Sir Murray are dead.”

It annoyed Katerina beyond words that Freda had seen the one true weakness in her plan. By letting everyone think she was dead, Katerina had known that she was making it easy for her enemies to kill her without fear of any consequences if they got hold of her.
It had seemed simple enough to avoid capture, but, as Katerina glanced around, she decided that might have been a dangerous arrogance on her part.

The council now kens that I am alive,” she said.

The council must be careful in how it acts against us. They have their own sins to hide.”

“Nay all of them. Only Morrison and Sorley.”

Freda cocked just one brow. “Are ye so certain of that?”

“Oh, I suspicion Matthew and Brock, and mayhap e’en Malcolm, may have a few wee sins ye have discovered, but I doubt ye found enough to make them accept taking a part in a murder. Two murders. They didnae e’en ken that Morrison and Sorley were stealing from Dunlochan and were appalled when they learned of it. They were also appalled that Morrison and Sorley handed me over to Ranald as they ken now that he wants me dead.”

“I dinnae care if ye die or nay,” Ranald said. “’Tis just easier and the surest way to keep ye from coming back to try to claim Dunlochan.”

That was said in such a calm, almost amiable tone of voice that it reached out and grabbed hold of the fear Katerina was struggling to keep at bay. She had to fight to keep it from swamping her. The way the man spoke of killing made her very certain that there would be no mercy to be found in him. Even if she tried to bargain with him, she would not win. He would agree with the bargain, take what he wanted, and then kill her.

“Why isnae she dead?” demanded Agnes as she came back into the hall, marched over to the table, and glared at Katerina. “If neither of ye have the stomach for it, just give me the knife.”

“Ah, my loving sister, blood of my blood, how good it is to see ye again,” murmured Katerina.

“We cannae kill her now,” said Freda. “We need her to bring Sir Murray here.”

“Why should he come here, put his own life at risk, just for her?”

“Because he is a knight, an honorable mon who will feel it is what he must do to maintain his honor.”

“Such nonsense.” Agnes gave Ranald a seductive smile before glaring at Katerina again. “Must she lie there like that?”

“Nay, I was just about to have her moved to a chair by the fireplace and tie her to it. It isnae wise to leave her free as she could interfere when Sir Lucas comes or use some small moment of distraction to flee. If ye would be so kind, Ranald?” Freda asked, her voice a chill parody of courtesy.

Katerina bit back a cry of pain as Ranald grabbed her by the arm and yanked her off the table. When her feet touched the floor she nearly collapsed, dizziness and nausea swamping her. She wished she could fight him as he dragged her over to the chair near the fire, but she was too consumed with simply trying to remain conscious. Before she had gained enough control to just see clearly again, he already had her tightly bound to the chair. Katerina let her head rest against the back of the chair, closed her eyes, and fought to soften the pain and quell the nausea assaulting her. She knew she needed her wits strong and clear, but feeling the way she did at the moment made her unable to think of anything except how miserable she felt.

A tug on her hair brought her out of her stupor and she opened her eyes. Freda stood by the side of the chair holding her hair, an alarmingly large knife in her other
hand. Katerina took a long, deep breath and then let it out slowly as she reached for calm and, she prayed, courage enough to see her through the ordeal ahead.

“Feeling a need for some small token?” she asked.

“This is to be taken to the inn from whence I am certain it will get to Sir Murray. A small missive will be with it telling him exactly where to come and how to behave if he wishes to see ye alive.”

“Ah, let me guess. He is to come here alone and unarmed.”

“Aye.”

“Whereupon ye will let him see me alive and then kill him.”

“Aye.”

“Nay!” cried Agnes as she hurried over to glare at her mother. “Ranald said I could have him first.”

For a moment Katerina thought Freda was going to hit Agnes. There was such a fierce, furious look on the woman’s face that Agnes actually took a few steps back until she was pressed close to Ranald. Then the look faded, slowly changing to one that could only be called cunning. Katerina fought the urge to shiver when the woman looked at her again.

“It could well torment ye to see your lover with my daughter,” Freda murmured. “I suspicion it could cut ye more deeply than any knife’s blade.”

“And why would ye think the mon is my lover?”

“Because he believed ye were the one who had him beaten and nearly killed yet he fights with ye now.”

“And I ken weel that he willnae like to see Ranald take his woman,” Agnes said, as if she had such a clever plan to begin with and had not just been thinking of her own wants and needs.

Freda slowly nodded. She took a small piece of parchment from a pocket in her black gown and wrapped the hair in it before giving it to Ranald. “See that this goes to the inn and that it is made verra clear that Sir Lucas Murray must receive it as soon as possible. Make sure the mon ye send understands that he must nay try to follow the one who will take it to Sir Murray. It would be good to ken where these reivers have been hiding so that we could rid ourselves of them at last, but getting Sir Murray here is of more importance now.”

“Are ye certain of that?” Ranald asked.

“Verra certain. He is a warrior. He undoubtedly leads them now and could make them stronger and more dangerous. In truth, once this one and Sir Murray are dead, there is a verra good chance the rest of them will slowly fade away into the mists.”

Ranald shrugged and went to find a messenger. Katerina could not be sure he would obey Freda in this as he really wanted the rest of her men. She had to have confidence in the cunning of her people to keep Ranald from finding them. Not only would worrying about them distract her when she needed to be watching every move her enemies made, but there was nothing she could do to help them now.

“Ye really believe ye can win, dinnae ye,” she said.

“Why not?” asked Freda. “I have accomplished all I wanted until now. Ye have proven a sore trial and far more clever than I had anticipated, but I kenned I would win in the end. Your father ne’er kenned that about me. He thought me some fool woman who had spread her legs for a mon and would be willing to accept any scraps he offered after
that. He thought recognizing Agnes as his daughter should be more than enough to please me, that I wouldnae feel the sting of shame when he made me her nurse and refused to let anyone ken what I had once been to him. The bastard threatened me with sending me away and keeping Agnes with him if I told anyone who I was.”

Katerina thought that Agnes might have fared better, been a better person, if her father had done that at the start. He had not been a particularly loving man, but he had still been a good one in most ways. Freda was a woman twisted by anger, an anger strengthened by thwarted ambitions. Katerina was both surprised and ashamed that she had never noticed that about Freda until now.

“Of course, I made him pay for that arrogance.”

The look on Freda’s face made Katerina wish she could suppress the need to ask any questions, but it was impossible. She felt a strong sense of foreboding about what she might learn, but even that was not enough to make her hold her tongue. She felt almost compelled to dig out the truth no matter how chilling and ugly it might be.