Legacy of the Mist Clans Box Set (65 page)

“What does it matter, Raven? He will still become king no matter who he brings tae his bed.”

“But what of the line—”

Abruptly a knock sounded on the door. Raven nearly jumped a foot in the air and Aidan spun, his hand on the hilt of his sword. “Who is it?” he growled.

“’Young MacGrigor,” Connell said. “I pray, the lassie be terrified and trying tae leave.”

Aidan growled a curse under his breath. “We shall discuss this later.” He opened the door and strode out.

Sure enough, he found Mairi near panicked and trying to leave. Fortunately, some patrons concerned with the health of her bairn in such foul weather had stopped her. Raven quickly hurried around him and took Mairi’s arm. She spoke soothingly and gently guided her away from the door.

“It appears,” Aidan said, “that ye and I will be bunking together Connell. The lassies will share the other room.”

“Aye. I must say I’ve ne’er seen a lass so frightened.”

“Raven should be able tae calm her. In the meantime, I wish tae speak tae the blacksmith. We shall have tae leave upon the sunrise if we are tae free the laird’s daughter.”

“So ye mean tae see this through?”

“Aye, they were so quick tae slay a maid, I fear what they will do tae the lass if her father doesna pay the ransom.” He paused and shook his head. “No one deserves that fate, Connell. No one.”

A
s long as Kenna didn’t move too much, the knights-errant seemed content to ignore her. Only the leader, Hurstal, would cast an occasional glance in her direction, and what she saw in his gaze chilled her heart.

She was deep enough in the cave that she couldn’t see the opening, nor could she see if it was night or day outside. Only a few guttering torches shoved into crevices in the walls cast any light, and it was difficult to judge the passage of time.

The storm that passed through a bit ago was a different matter entirely. At its peak, lightning seemed to consistently brighten the cave, and even sheltered underground, Kenna had felt the thunder shaking the earth. It grew in such intensity that the bandits brought their horses into the cave, keeping them near the opening but far enough in that the thunder and lightning wouldn’t spook them. The storm raged around them, but the cave protected them reasonably well. A few times a terrible blast of cold air swept through, extinguishing torches, and once, even the fire the knights-errant sat around.

But the chill growing in strength in the pit of her belly had not been caused by the storm. Kenna noticed Hurstal glancing at her more and more often, and she feared her time was running short. She huddled under her blanket, but it was poor defense against the cold. She kept her eyes open, watching and praying for an opportunity to escape. None presented itself, and despite her terror of what Hurstal would do to her, she had to admit she was more terrified of trying to escape, for if they caught her, no amount of coin would save her from her fate.

“Bloody hell!” one man barked as he returned from the mouth of the cave. He stomped his feet and slapped his arms, trying to warm himself, his breath pluming in the air. “The sun is out, but it is still freezing out there.”

“Snow?” another man asked.

“It doesn’t cover the ground completely, but there are patches. It’s mostly ice from the freezing rain. It hangs from the trees and the rocks despite the bright sun.”

“Probably the last hard freeze before spring,” Hurstal muttered. “But if the day is clear, it is time to collect our money. The wench’s father and betrothed have had plenty of time to gather it.” He paused and speared two men in his gaze. “Longspee and Merke, fetch your horses and ride to the village. See if you spot a messenger with either man’s heraldry.”

“And if we do not?” one man asked as he rose.

“Give them a few hours, but so help me, if either of you get drunk, I’ll remove your heads and piss down your necks.”

“Aye,” the two men chorused and hurried to their horses.

Time seemed to drag itself like a half-dead carcass. Kenna kept seeking greater warmth from the blanket but could not find it. Her shaking grew worse, and she jumped at every little noise. While she still did not know the hour, her terror levered upward as Hurstal rose and began to pace.

He disappeared to the mouth of the cave several times but always returned, his expression growing even more deadly.

Finally, she heard a barked shout, and Hurstal spun on his heel. The two men had returned, appearing perfectly sober. They grinned brightly and carried a hefty strongbox between them. Kenna didn’t know if their expressions meant they had received the gold they wanted or looked forward to making her pay. Still, the strongbox was a good sign.

They placed the strongbox before Hurstal and handed him the key. “It was well past dark, but Laird Stewart’s man finally met us in Glen Trool.”

Kenna’s jaw went slack. Her betrothed had paid the ransom?

Hurstal grinned wolfishly. He knelt in front of the iron-banded box, but instead of unlocking the large padlock, he examined the box closely.

It was then Kenna spotted the sealing wax on the seam where it opened. It was thick and solid, bearing what appeared to be Laird Stewart’s signet. She immediately realized that unbroken seal proved the box had come straight from Stewart and no one had pilfered any money from it.

Her heart battered against her ribs. Perhaps she had misjudged her betrothed.

Hurstal examined the seal and nodded in satisfaction. He put the key in the lock and opened it. Kenna covered her mouth, seeing a great amount of coin in the chest. Atop the glittering metal sat a folded piece of vellum, also bearing Stewart’s seal.

Hurstal picked it up, broke the seal, and began to read.

Again Kenna waited endlessly, the silence maddening. The man took forever to read what was surely a simple note. She clamped her teeth together lest she offer to read the note aloud to him.

With a growl, Hurstal rose and glared at her. “Your betrothed only paid half the ransom,” he snarled and held up the note. “Said he needs more time to get the rest.”

Cold terror clamped around her soul. “He has given ye a good faith offering,” she said, attempting to sound firm, but her voice cracked. “Just give him a bit of time and ye will have yer coin and be rid of me.”

Hurstal crumpled the vellum in his fist and threw it into the fire. “I will be rid of you,” he said, his voice deadly soft, “but first, you will know how it feels to have a man between your legs. Then I will deposit your body at the gate of your betrothed’s keep.”

HHH

It took all day and was well after sunset before Aidan found the cave the knights-errant used. Apparently, they felt their reputation for savagery enough to keep them safe, as they had only placed two guards on the path leading up to the cave entrance. Dense woods surrounded the cave and lined the trail, giving Aidan and Raven plenty of places to hide. The two guards sat before a small fire several yards from the opening, warming their hands against the cold. Patchy snow spotted the ground, and the stars shone like frosty diamonds in the night sky.

Aidan looked to the trail where he had left Connell. To Aidan, the tall clansman’s shadow in the darkness was obvious, but the two guards had not yet spotted him. Aidan gritted his teeth. He didn’t like placing Connell as the distraction, but he had little choice. But he had spoken the truth earlier—Connell was worth five of these bastards in battle. Since the tragedy that had befallen him, he had retreated into himself, focusing on improving his skills as a warrior. His long blond hair fell in a tattered braid down his back, and his blue eyes burned with a fury Aidan did not care to examine too closely. His physique had grown to match Aidan’s, and he possessed the power of a bull.

Aidan took a breath to whistle, to give the signal for Connell to move, but a woman’s scream from inside the cave froze the breath in his throat and nearly stopped his heart. From the following sounds and screams that erupted, they were beating the hell out of her, or worse.

Aidan heard Connell snarl, and his head snapped around. Connell fisted his sword and charged. With a roar, Connell stormed into the firelight. In three strides, he closed the distance, lifting his sword. The naked blade gleamed and sparked. He lifted it, and before one of the guards could jump to his feet, Connell smashed it down on his head, killing him instantly.

The second guard managed to rise, drawing his own sword, but Connell again stepped forward. In his off-hand, he carried his
biodag
, a viciously long Scottish dirk. As the second guard closed, Connell swung the dirk outward and drove it into the man’s gut, ending his fight.

“MacGrigor!” Connell roared.

Two more knights-errant charged from the mouth of the cave. Connell grinned viciously and set his feet to meet their attack.

Aidan lunged from his hiding spot behind the two charging Connell and sprinted to the mouth of the cave. Raven matched him from the other side. She was once again dressed as a man and carried her short sword.

His own sword in hand, Aidan approached the mouth of the cave. Two more brigands emerged. One man stared at him, his eyes wide with surprise, but before he could react, Aidan closed the distance. His sword bit deeply into the man’s throat, killing him.

Aidan never broke stride and continued into the cave. Reports were that this group was eight to ten men strong. Aidan had not been able to get a solid count. But as he ran into the cave, he spotted a wisp of a lassie on the ground with a brute of a man straddling her. He gripped her chemise, preparing to rip it away, he was going to—

“Nay!” Aidan roared, fury blurring his vision red for a moment.

The man bounded to his feet, dragging the lass with him. She screamed and cried, trying to break his grip, but was unable. Bruises and blood covered her face; her chemise was tattered and filthy.

Raven shoved her short sword neatly between a knight’s ribs and followed Aidan into the cave. Another man stood guard between Aidan and the big one holding the lassie. The big man looked up at them, his gaze turning flat. He was almost as tall and broad shouldered as Aidan. Aidan quickly surmised he was the leader of the group. He had a vicious scar on his left cheek, ragged and puckered, pulling at his skin in a grotesque fashion. He shoved the lass away from him and drew his sword.

The girl slammed into the wall of the cave as if she were nothing more than a rag doll and collapsed into a pile of rocks. Her hand clutched at her ribs and she recoiled in pain, sobbing, but she managed to crawl away from him so he could not easily grab her again.

The knight guarding his leader charged Aidan. Aidan shifted to the side, easily blocking his sword blow, and shoved him away, straight at Raven. The knight turned his back to her, intending to charge Aidan again. Aidan grinned. One never turned their back on Raven, not if they wanted to see the sunrise.

With an ungodly screech, Raven leapt onto the knight’s back, her short sword wielded with the dexterity of a dagger. She slid it across his throat and leapt away. He dropped dead at her feet.

The leader was suddenly on Aidan, moving much faster than he had expected. Aidan braced himself for the charge, blocking the man’s sword blow. But the force slammed his back into the cave wall and knocked the wind from his lungs. He sucked in a ragged breath, and the brigand leader’s sword descended again.

Aidan gritted his teeth. His own fighting style was much different from his brother’s. It had to be in order for Aidan to best him on occasion. He and his brother constantly pushed themselves to their limits on the practice field. Ronan had developed a defense worthy of the claymore, a stand and fight. Aidan was a fast attacker, always moving, never remaining in one place for too long. They traded victories equally, and in doing so, helped each other become better fighters.

Unfortunately, hard-pressed into the wall of the cave, he did not have the room to truly move like he wanted. So he fell back on what he had learned from fighting Ronan and quickly adopted his brother’s style, at least until he could gain the advantage.

Raven sprinted for the lassie in the back of the cave.

Aidan defended himself against repeated attacks, but the force of the blows nearly caved his blocks. The brigand leader roared and charged again, slamming Aidan against the cave wall. His head struck the rock and stars exploded in his vision. He staggered, managing to barely block another blow, but it knocked him to the ground.

“Aidan!” Raven screamed.

His vision cleared for a brief instant. He saw Raven helping the lass, pulling her toward the opening of the cave. The girl’s eyes, the color of the richest emeralds, locked on his, terrified. She was nothing more than a waif.

The brigand leader hovered over him and lifted his sword. Aidan battled to bring his weapon on guard, but fear coiled through him. Surely he was dead.

The lassie screamed and plowed into the giant brigand leader, batting at his weapon arm. Dear God in heaven, the tiny thing was no match for a fully armored knight. She clawed at his eyes and scored him with her nails, drawing blood on his scarred cheek.

The brigand leader howled as his sword dropped, but Aidan was able to easily deflect the blow. He rolled to his feet. In an instant, Raven was on the knight, screeching in fury. If the situation hadn’t been so dire, Aidan would have laughed at the sight. The brigand leader had more than a handful with two enraged lassies attacking him.

“Raven, get back!” Aidan bellowed, hefting his sword. He charged.

Raven obeyed in an instant and darted out of the way, hauling the tiny lassie with her. Before the brigand leader could gather himself, Aidan attacked. Now that Aidan was in the middle of the cave, away from the walls, he could move. His sword rose and fell, driving the leader back toward the mouth of the cave. With any luck, he would meet up with Connell.

Unfortunately, luck was not on his side. Aidan was glad to see that Connell now battled only one knight instead of two, and he managed to dispatch the last. He spotted Aidan and charged. Before he could close the distance, the brigand leader cleared the mouth of the cave, pushed Aidan backward, and sprinted into the trees.

Aidan roared in fury, seeking to chase after him.

“Aidan!” Raven called.

He slid to a stop and looked over his shoulder. Raven held the lassie they had just rescued, but the girl could not stand. Although she was tiny compared to Aidan, Raven wasn’t strong enough to keep her from collapsing into the dirt. He sheathed his sword and crossed the distance in an instant.

“Peace,” he said softly as his arms wrapped around her. “Ye are safe now.”

Sobbing, the lassie clung to him. “Ye stopped him,” she whispered, shaking violently. “Thank ye for stopping him.”

He could not help himself as he held her even tighter, breathing a sigh of relief. “I’ll no’ let them harm ye,” he murmured, his rattling pulse finally slowing. For a long moment, he couldn’t bring himself to move, even though he knew he should. All he could think of was how hard she was shaking.

“Aidan,” Raven said, gently gripping his shoulder. “We need tae get her out of here.”

He nodded. “We’ll take ye tae safety,” he said and gathered the lass to lift her in his arms.

“Nay!” she screamed, suddenly trying to push away from him, but her strength had abandoned her. “Please, dinna return me tae my father. He’ll make me wish these bastards had killed me.”