Highland Wedding (15 page)

“I think so. His own family sent warning. They search for him, him and twelve of his men.”

“They arenae sure he heads this way?”

“Nay, though they think ’tis most likely. They want no feud with your family or mine, so, though he is kin, they sent warning. T’was hinted that they are done with the fool, feel no more need to protect him from his own folly.”

“Yet they search for him.”

“The bond of kinship is hard to sever. I think they dinnae wish it said that they did naught. Whate’er befalls the fool now, their hands are clean. Do ye tell Islaen what might ride this way?”

“I think not. ’Tis yet only a possibility. She is well watched now because of MacLennon. There is no need to add to that.”

“Aye and because of MacLennon, she is alert to danger,” Robert mused aloud. “Weel, I must wash the dust off. Do ye run again to Muircraig?”

Iain muttered an affirmative response, then watched Robert leave. Run was the right word he supposed but it was discomforting to think that others might see it as that.

Islaen woke to an empty bed and felt little surprise. Iain had kept her awake most of the night with his lovemaking. She wondered a little crossly how long he felt that sensual gluttony would last him. Considering how busy he had kept her during the night, she decided it would not surprise her at all if he stayed away a full fortnight. Sighing and scolding herself for her bitterness, she rose. Storm had said that there was still a lot of work to do and she hoped the woman was right.

For nearly three weeks, Islaen worked hard. She filled every minute of the day, needing the busyness more and more as each day passed and Iain did not return. It worked to keep her from lying awake at night but as the third week drew to a close, she found herself pausing more and more to stare off towards Muircraig as if she could will Iain to return.

“Are ye tired, Islaen?” Storm asked as she moved to where Islaen stood just outside the door of the smokehouse.

“Nay, not truly. I couldnae stomach working with the meat any longer. My stomach began to turn on me, I fear.”

“Come, we will go and sit for a time. I could do with a rest from it all myself. Aye, and a drink. Here, what happens now?”

Both women watched as a small ragged boy eluded the men and raced towards them. When the men tried to give chase, Storm held up a hand to halt their pursuit. The boy was so small he could be little danger to them even if he was armed. Islaen listened as the boy frantically told his tale to Storm. She did not know the Gaelic well enough to understand what was happening however.

“I must go, Islaen. I am needed,” Storm said even as she hurried off to her chambers to collect what she would need.

“What is wrong?” Islaen asked as she followed close on Storm’s heels. “I could not understand it all.”

“Oh, aye, ’tis a waning language, I am sorry to say. I wondered why ye did not look more upset.”

“’Tis Iain?” Islaen felt her heart stop with fear as Storm hurriedly collected her medicinals.

“Nay, but mayhaps as bad. ’Tis Robert. He has been hurt.”

“Badly?”

“The boy was not clear. He does need physicking though.”

“I will come with ye.”

“Are ye sure ye should? The ride and all…”

“Willnae harm me. We can take Beltraine. He is strong and fast.”

When they went to have the horse saddled one of the men insisted upon going with them. It was only then that Islaen recalled the threat of MacLennon. She wondered frantically if Robert had fallen victim to the man’s madness.

“Do not look so fretful, Islaen,” Storm said as she mounted behind Islaen. “Robert will be fine.”

“I pray so. If there is a favorite in our family, ’tis he. Where do we head to, Storm?”

“To old Sorcha’s croft. He was taken there. Recall? We went there but three days
past to settle a squabble o’er the gleaning.”

Islaen nodded and urged her mount forward. She was only barely aware of the well-armed man that rode by their side. Since her marriage such a guard had become so common as to be unnoticeable. A small voice in her mind reminded her that, if Robert’s injury was due to MacLennon, they would have need of the man with them but she was too worried about Robert’s well-being to think on that. If there was trouble in getting to Robert she would face it when it came and not fret on it beforehand.

When they slowed as they approached the croft they sought, Islaen frowned. The hairs on the back of her neck tickled a warning and she halted her mount. Leaning forward in the saddle, she stared hard at the place wondering what made her sense danger. She scolded herself for her foolishness, told herself Robert could be dying while she sat but feet away, yet she hesitated. Something was just not right.

“Why do ye wait, Islaen?”

Islaen’s eyes widened as she saw one thing wrong with the scene before them. “Robert’s horse isnae there, Storm.”

Frowning, Storm demurred, “Mayhaps the beast ran off, became frightened and inexperienced hands could not hold him.”

“Would we not have seen the beast then as he ran back to his stall?”

“Aye, mayhaps. Does all look well to you Robbie?”

The man frowned as he stared at the croft. “’Tis muckle still.”

“Aye, mayhaps too still yet…”

“Robert could be there.”

“Aye, Islaen, so I keep thinking.”

“Yet here I sit thinking this all wrong somehow.”

“Mayhaps we should return for more men?”

“That could take time and Robert might have very little. Where did the lad go?”

“I have not seen him since I spoke to him,” Storm replied slowly.

“’Tis most odd, is it not? Yet naught has happened as we sit here.”

Just as she decided she might as well go to the croft, Robbie cried out. The sound that preceded his cry chilled Islaen’s blood. As she and Storm turned to look at the man he slumped and began to fall from his saddle. She was not really surprised to see the shaft of an arrow protruding from his back. The sound she had heard had warned her. When she moved to go to his aid, Storm’s grip on her tightened, halting her.

“We can do little for him. They will not allow it. Behind us, Islaen.”

Looking over her shoulder, Islaen gasped. Six armed men rode towards them. She did not hesitate any longer but urged Beltraine into a gallop. The men were between them and Caraidland so she headed towards Muircraig although she found little hope within her that she and Storm could escape.

“They move to encircle us,” Storm yelled. “There were more than six.”

Cursing viciously, Islaen tried several evasive maneuvers but the men were good. Although a good rider, she had little skill in playing and winning such a dangerous game. With little hope of success as the circle around them tightened, Islaen tried to break through. She cried out as the reins were torn from her hands, burning them. In his fright, Beltraine nearly flung her and Storm from his back. Gritting her teeth Islaen hung on knowing that, if she went, so too would Storm. By the time Beltraine settled down she was dazed and stared blindly at the men encircling them.

“Curse it,” muttered Storm. “A trap. But whose and why?”

“I believe he is about to tell us,” Islaen murmured as one of the men moved to face them. “’Tisnae MacLennon. Too fat and short.”

“Ah, two lovely damsels in one net.”

“Who are ye and what do ye want?” Islaen demanded, fighting to sound unafraid.

“When ye ken who I am, m’lady, ye will ken weel what I want.”

Something about the man’s voice chilled Islaen’s blood. She sat tensely as he removed his helmet then she gasped. Despite the now crooked nose and two disfiguring scars there was little mistaking the man that now faced her.

“Fraser.”

“Ah, so ye remember me, do ye, sweeting? Weel, no more to say?”

“Ye are mad, Fraser,” Storm snapped. “Ye harm either of us and ye will soon be so full of swords ye will look like a hedgehog.”

“Ah, Tavis’s Sassanach bitch.”

“She is naught to you, Fraser. Let her go,” Islaen demanded. “Your quarrel is with me, not her.”

“So she can raise the clan? I think not. Come along,” he said and signaled one of his men to take Beltraine’s reins.

“Where are ye taking us?”

“To Hell, m’lady. Aye, to Hell.” Fraser laughed and Islaen shuddered, feeling Storm echo it. “And, with the bait I hold, t’will not be long ere your husband joins us there.”

The anger Iain felt for giving into the need to see Islaen was forgotten when he stepped into the hall and found Tavis throttling a man while a glowering Robert watched. “What goes on here?”

Tavis flung the man he held away from him. “Fraser.”

Iain felt his blood run cold with fear. “Islaen?”

“He has her. Her and Storm,” Tavis snarled. “That is what this dog says.”

“T’was all he managed to say ere your brother proceeded to strangle him,” Robert drawled but fury made his voice harsh.

“Aye, Tavis,” Colin said as he gripped his eldest son’s shoulder in a gesture of sympathy and understanding. “That willnae help. Has the mon got his breath back yet?” he asked the men guarding Fraser’s messenger. “I ken there is more to the message he brought us.”

When his guards yanked him to his feet, Fraser’s messenger wheezed, “Wants Iain. Trade lasses for Iain MacLagan. Sorcha’s croft.”

Robert grabbed hold of Iain when he turned to leave. “Where do ye think ye are going?”

“Ye heard the terms.”

“I heard a trap.”

“Do ye think I didnae? There is no choice. We cannae leave Storm and Islaen in his hands.”

“And we cannae put ye into his hands. That will just give him three to kill.”

“How he thinks to get away with this madness, I cannae guess,” Tavis growled, then looked at Fraser’s messenger, smiled coldly and pulled out his knife. “Mayhaps this coward will tell us. ’Tis nay too hard to make such a dog howl.” He looked to his father. “We cannae plan until we ken what Fraser plans. E’en his ravings could be of use.”

“An I go…” Iain began.

“If ye go to him ye die,” Tavis said flatly, “then the lasses die. Mayhaps he will keep Storm alive to bargain for his own life but I wouldnae wager on it. Sending ye willnae e’en buy us time.”

Colin went to shut the hall doors, then turned. “Do it, Tavis.”

It was not to Iain’s liking to torture a man and he knew Tavis had no stomach for it either, but their need was desperate. The man would not talk unless he knew they would sink lower and hurt him more than his master. To Iain’s relief the man broke quickly. It took great restraint to keep from killing the man, however, when he spoke of all Fraser had threatened or planned for his twisted revenge.

“He hadnae planned on the second lass,” the man finished. “He will use her to ransom his life an he’s attacked.”

“Ye would have Storm back an I went to him, Tavis.”

“Aye and she would most like cut my throat an I bought her back with the lives of ye and Islaen. Iain, the mon must be mad to think he can do this and live. Ye cannae deal with such as he. We will have to rescue the women.”

“That could be verra dangerous,” he said even though he knew Tavis was right.

“Aye, but we havenae any other choice. An any harm comes to those lasses, ye slinking dog,” Tavis growled at his prisoner, “and ye will be hung by the thumbs from the walls of Caraidland and provide a living feast for the corbies. Secure him weel.”

“Now that we have all that what do we do with it?” Robert drawled.

“Go after the women and, if we are lucky, get them back alive and unharmed,” Colin answered quietly.

Islaen barely swallowed a screech when Fraser roughly shoved her and Storm off of the back of Beltraine. She knew she was lucky to land without seriously injuring herself. Turning to look at Storm she found the woman groggy but unhurt. Even as she reached to help Storm, Fraser grabbed her by the hair and yanked her to her feet.

“I should have worn my coif,” she muttered. “Storm?”

“I am fine, Islaen. Just hit my head, ’tis all,” Storm answered as one of Fraser’s men roughly yanked her to her feet. “Where’s Sorcha?”

“Ye mean the old slut that lived here?” Fraser shoved Islaen inside the crofter’s hut. “She is dead.”

“You whoreson,” Storm hissed as she was shoved into Islaen, making them both stumble and fall.

“She wouldnae have lasted the winter.”

“M’lord?” Another of Fraser’s men stood in the doorway. “The mon we shot is gone.”

“It doesnae matter. An he lives to reach anyone, he cannae tell them any more than I did in my message.”

“Iain is no fool, Fraser. He willnae walk to ye like some heathen sacrifice,” Islaen said coldly as she and Storm stood up.

“Oh, I think he will. Aye, for his wee wife, he will. And we have Tavis’s little Sassanach too.” He stroked Storm’s cheek.

Storm slapped his hand away. “Keep your filthy hands off of me, ye swine.”

Snarling a curse, Fraser backhanded her across the mouth. “Sassanach bitch. There are few in Scotland that would fault me for killing the spawn of a marcher lord.”

As she knelt by the fallen Storm, Islaen glared at Fraser. “There are many who will kill ye if ye harm her. Every one of the MacLagan clan to begin with. Ye are the greatest of fools if ye think ye will live after this.”

“I have a right to my vengeance.”

“Vengeance? For what? Because a mon stopped ye from raping his wife?”

“He isnae here to stop me now, is he. But first, I must place my men.” He turned sharply and left with his men.

“Are ye all right, Storm?” Islaen asked as she sat down by the woman.

“Aye, I have had worse. Curse it, I see no way out of this.”

“Ye dinnae think Iain will come, do ye?”

“I cannot say. His first thought will be to do as he is told, but ’tis hoped that wiser heads will prevail. They have to know that that will not help us, that they deal with a madman. He must be mad to do this.”

“Aye, he cannae win e’en an he gains the blood he seeks. He isnae crafty like MacLennon so there is hope.”

Clasping Islaen’s hand in hers, Storm hesitantly said, “Islaen, he means to…”

“Aye, I ken it. At least he doesnae threaten ye.”

“That does not mean he will let me be.”

“Nay, I ken that too. We must pray for a speedy rescue or something to divert
him.”

“Mayhaps if we fight him together. I have my dagger. The fools did not check for weapons.”

“Let us hope he is so stupid as to face us together.”

“He has shown little intelligence thus far. Although he did know Robert was there, that he could safely use your brother as bait.”

“That would take little to find out. Robert is much about looking for MacLennon and making no secret of it.”

“Then he could also know that Iain may not be at Caraidland but at Muircraig,” Storm said quietly, her worried gaze upon Islaen.

Islaen nodded. “I thought on that. We are on our own and must act accordingly until ’tis proven elsewise.”

“Aye. That pig will not find it easy to defile us. Mayhaps we can find some comfort in that.”

Despite the fact that there was no way of leaving the croft unseen, they searched for one. They found a weak spot in one wall that could be utilized with some work. It would be of no use until dark, however, when they would have some chance to elude Fraser’s men. Both women tried not to think too much about all that could happen to them in the hours until dark.

When Fraser returned, Islaen and Storm stood hand in hand to face him. He was neither as tall nor as strong as either of their husbands, but they both knew he could easily beat them unless Storm could make use of her dagger. For all his weaknesses he was a man of battle and they were two small women. Luck would be needed to defeat him before he could harm them.

To Islaen’s horror, Fraser did not even give them a chance. With a surprising swiftness he struck out at Storm, hitting her on the jaw. Storm crumpled unconscious to the ground with barely a whimper. Islaen stared at Fraser, torn between outrage and terror.

“Now, ye shall pay for what your husband did to me.”

Backing away from him, Islaen wished the hut was not so small. “He did as any mon would when what is his is threatened.”

“He near killed me.”

“He wanted to. Aye and ye deserved no better. Ye are lucky he didnae do more, but let ye leave.”

“Lucky?” he hissed as his arm darted out and he grabbed her by the hair. “Ye bitch, he scarred me, crippled me.”

Islaen bit back a cry as he slammed her up against the wall. His grip on her hair brought tears to her eyes. When he tore the front of her gown and chemise she felt terror grip her but fought it. She needed a clear head if she was to fight him at all. That calm was nearly impossible to gain when he began to maul her breasts, cuffing her soundly when she scratched his hands.

“Do ye ken what else he did to me? He unmanned me,” Fraser hissed. “The whoreson unmanned me. Aye, but his fair wife will be my cure. By Christ’s foot, ye will stir the life in me again or die trying.” He started to unlace his braes.

His grip loosened as he struggled to expose himself and Islaen took quick advantage of that. Her fingers curled like talons, she slashed at his face. When he
screamed and his hands instinctively went to his face, she darted away. The injury was not severe enough nor was she quick enough. With a savage growl he grasped at her skirts. They tore as he yanked and she fell. Before she could scramble to her feet, he was upon her.

Pinning her arms over her head, he rubbed his flacid organ against her breasts. Islaen choked on the bile of revulsion. She tried desperately to buck him off but he laughed at her efforts. Islaen felt a chilling fear for the child she carried, certain that it could never survive much of the ordeal he so clearly planned to put her through.

Seeing a slight movement to the side, Islaen felt a brief flare of hope. Unfortunately, Fraser, despite his distraction, also sensed danger. Even as Storm stuck him with her dagger, he turned to deflect her blow.

“Bitch. Sassanach bitch,” Fraser hissed as he caught Storm’s wrist in a bruising grip, then slapped her. “Ye will pay for this.”

Storm cried out softly as Fraser twisted her wrist. Islaen watched the dagger fall from Storm’s hand. Fraser then threw Storm to the floor and leapt upon her. Islaen watched in shock as he put his hands around Storm’s slim throat. He seemed oblivious to the way Storm clawed at his hands as he choked the life from her, cursing her all the while.

Terrified that he would kill Storm before she could stop him, Islaen scrambled for the dagger. Without any thought of what she was doing save that she needed to stop him, she plunged the dagger into his back. He bellowed and swung at her, sending her slamming into the wall, knocking the breath from her body, and leaving her groggy.

She nearly wept when she saw him stand up and turn towards her. Struggling to her feet, she prepared to meet him but then, still glaring at her, he fell to his knees. She knew a moment of sheer terror when he grasped her skirts but then his eyes rolled back until only the whites showed. Then he sprawled facedown upon the dirt floor and did not move. Islaen looked to Storm who was on her hands and knees gasping for air. Carefully avoiding Fraser’s body and tearing off the piece of skirt he still clutched, Islaen rushed to Storm’s side.

“Is he dead?” Storm rasped as she collapsed in Islaen’s arms.

“I think so. I have ne’er…” Islaen began in a shaking voice.

“I know what ye are feeling but t’will pass as soon as ye are o’er the shock enough to recall what he planned to do to us.” Storm shook her head. “My fault. I did not plan my strike. I woke up, saw what he was doing to ye and simply went for him. I wanted to stop him before he could perform that final indignity.”

“I dinnae think he can. Seems Iain did something to him when they fought.”

“Ah, aye. Considering what the man was trying to do, Iain could well have delivered a damaging blow or two. There lies the seed of his madness.”

“So I thought. What do we do now? If his men discover this they could weel kill us. They might actually be loyal.”

“I doubt it, but best we not take any chances. Come, we will work at that weak place on the back wall. Did ye hear something?”

“Aye, I…” Islaen’s words strangled to a halt as she looked to see Fraser standing up. “God’s teeth, he isnae dead.”

At that moment one of Fraser’s men burst into the hut. “The MacLagans have come. They killed five men e’er we e’en kenned they were about. Best ye flee now,
m’lord. The game is lost.”

“Nay, not completely. Kill these bitches.”

The young man looked at Storm and Islaen in horror. He not only seemed shocked by the order but by the clear evidence of their having been roughly handled. Islaen wondered if the lad had not listened to Fraser, who had undoubtedly made his plans very clear, or, perhaps, simply had not believed any of it. She knew in her heart that he would not kill them, could read it in his light grey eyes.

“I cannae,” the youth croaked. “Ye ne’er said…what have ye done to them? They are but lasses, wee lasses. I willnae do it.”

“Fine. Then die with them.”

Islaen cried out when Fraser thrust his sword into the youth. The man stumbled back a few steps staring at Fraser in surprise, then crumpled to the floor. She and Storm tensed, readied for Fraser’s attack but he just laughed and went out the door. When Islaen heard him bar the door from the outside she thought a little wildly that he had at least planned well for keeping them captive, then hurried along with Storm to see if Fraser had killed the youth.

“He isnae dead,” Islaen said with relief when she felt the youth’s heartbeat.

“I do not know why we fret so. He is one of Fraser’s men.”

“He is but a lad and he wouldnae kill us.”

“Aye, I know it. Fear makes me sharp. Let us bind his wound.” They each tore strips from their petticoats although Islaen’s was so badly torn she suspected her contribution would only serve as padding. “The sword thrust pierced his side cleanly.”

“Do we try to escape now or wait for Iain and Tavis?” Islaen frowned, sniffed the air, then froze. “Smoke,” she whispered.

“That filthy dog. Come on, help me drag this fool boy nearer the back. We must get out. We cannae wait for our men now.”

Iain stared down at the small crofter’s hut and fought the urge to ride down there, sword swinging. He noticed Tavis looking as taut as he felt and suspected his brother suffered a like urge. They had to go slowly but he felt it was the hardest thing he had ever done. He tensed when he saw Fraser come out of the hut. Iain wished he could be sure that Fraser had no men there with him for then he could simply kill the man and collect Islaen and Storm.