Page 46 of Bride Takes a Charmer (Highland Vows & Vengeance #3)
Shaw gave up trying not to groan and pressed the bandage at his waist. He wasn’t concerned for himself but for his wife. “I need to find Sorsha. She went to the river with Corliss. Walen…”
“I am on it, Laird,” Walen said immediately and sprinted off toward the tree line, disappearing beyond it.
As he waited for his comrade’s return, Shaw pondered why Idris had attacked him.
What gain would it bring? If he’d died, his clan would have elected a new laird.
That certainly wouldn’t have been Idris.
If anything, Walen or Trey would have been selected by their brethren.
Unless Idris had another way to sway his clansmen to let him overtake the clan.
Shaw only knew of one way that could happen— war .
But Idris had no army with him and his clansmen had fled when the Cummings overtook his fief.
That left the man unaided and without the support of arms. Yet he had to have the backing of someone to enact such a daunting, daring plan.
Now, worried about Sorsha and overcome by the throbbing in his back, Shaw couldn’t reason it through, but he would certainly think more about Idris’s plan and what he’d hoped to accomplish.
“Come, Laird. I’ll help you.” Henny moved to stand beside him. “We’ll go to the crofter’s house and get you stitched and bandaged.”
Shaw put his left arm around his waist and braced himself to feel the pain the movement would bring.
But then he spotted Walen running at a breakneck speed through the trees toward them and his heart dropped to his knees.
Walen wouldn’t be running unless he’d discovered something very bad.
He forgot his pain and started toward his soldier and friend.
Indeed, Walen called out as soon as he drew close.
“Shaw, ’tis bad… The ladies were not at the river.
I searched amongst the grounds and saw something at the base of the cliff.
It is…” He paused before speaking. Gathering courage.
Shaw felt himself swaying and Henny held him upright. No. It couldn’t be.
“Lady Sorsha. She must’ve fallen.”
Sorsha! Shaw wanted to run but with his wound, he could only manage a fast walk.
Walen came up to support him on the other side and they seemed to move at the slowest pace ever.
His breath hitched the entire way and his heart pounded so much so that he could barely hear anything except a high-pitched noise—along with darkening vision—made him realize he was about to pass out.
From the loss of blood or from shock, it mattered not.
Sorsha, the love of his life, was…he couldn’t even think the word.
Now he gazed over the edge and saw her unmoving body. Everything within him ceased to exist at that moment. He couldn’t breathe and suddenly, his heart seemed to still. When he remembered to draw breath, he was able to turn toward his comrades.
“Help me. God willing she lives,” he said low. “We need a rope to reach the bottom.”
“I will see to it,” Henny said. He helped Shaw to sit on the ground before he sprinted away.
“There is no way to reach her quickly if we route around the cliff. It shall take us past nightfall to get to her.” Walen knelt at the cliff’s edge. “It does not look like the ground here gave way. How in God’s name did she fall? Milady is not clumsy, nor is she reckless.”
The answer, though horrible to consider, was obvious. Shaw tried to draw a deep breath and failed. “My sister’s husband tried to kill me. So someone must have pushed my wife over the edge.”
Walen grunted. “She was with Corliss, Laird. Would your sister…?”
When his friend’s supposition trailed off, Shaw nodded, as he thought of Corliss’s attitude and actions over the past months.
Her disdain. Her haughtiness. And though Sorsha had tried not to complain, her apparent hatred of his wife.
It may have been Idris who was guilty but he feared not.
“Aye, it had to be her. Damn her! It could be no other. Corliss and her husband planned this—to do away with both me and Sorsha.”
“Laird!” Henny’s voice reached them before he did, even though he ran as if the devil himself chased him.
Instead, he was followed by more of Shaw’s men.
When he reached them, he tossed a good bit of rope to the ground.
“I grabbed several ropes, Laird. If we tie them together, we can reach the bottom.”
Walen grabbed an end and walked to the nearest tree. “I’ll tie this end to the tree to anchor it. Who will rappel the incline?”
Henny tied the rope around his waist. “I shall do it. Walen, take hold of the rope, and slacken it as I go. I am going over the edge of the crag and will go slow.”
Walen stood near the edge and as Henny disappeared over the ridge, he loosened a bit of rope moment by moment.
Several of his men helped Shaw up to stand beside Walen so he could peer over the edge to watch Henny’s progression.
He was about halfway down the slope when suddenly Shaw heard a snapping sound.
“Henny!” He, Walen, and his soldiers shouted at the same time. Leaning over the edge, they could only watch in horror as he plummeted and then landed at the bottom not too far from where Sorsha lay.
Shaw breathed heavily in shock at what he’d just witnessed; if not for the men holding him up, he would have collapsed for sure.
“The rope frayed because of the drag,” Walen pulled up what rope remained and examined the end. Then he shrugged and began tying it around himself. “I will go.”
“’Tis too dangerous, Walen. We should get more aid. I cannot help ye with this wound.”
“At least let me get down there. I will signal if Milady and Henny live by sticking up my thumb. Once I can see to them, ye can send another to get help.” Walen didn’t wait for him to agree and tied the rope around his waist. “Hold tight.”
Shaw’s soldiers gripped the rope and wrapped it around their waists and—once they’d wrapped their hands with cloth ripped from their own tunics—their fists.
Walen scaled the edge and used his feet to jump little by little down the cliffside.
Shaw’s heavy breathing intensified his pain, but he kept watch and directed his men to slacken the rope as Walen went along.
After what seemed like hours but was probably only a moment, Walen reached the bottom.
He waited for Walen to give him the signal. Please, God, let them be alive.
His comrade reached Sorsha first and knelt next to her.
He seemed to be assessing her and stuck his thumb up before he shouted, “She breathes.” Then he rushed to Henny’s side but didn’t bother to kneel next to their comrade.
Walen kept his head lowered, stuck out his arm, held his thumb down, and shook his head.
A wave of despair rushed over Shaw; Henny had been one of his most trusted and devoted men. It didn’t seem right that he’d be dead. He would have been proud to die in service to his laird and his lady, however. Now the clan’s war cry rose from his men. Loch Moigh!
More of his soldiers arrived from the camp as word of the attacks—and Henny’s death—spread, and again and again the war cry arose.
The clansmen were saddened by the loss of their comrade, yet enraged about the attack on their laird and lady.
“Henny was a good man, an admirable soldier, and will be given the highest honor our clan can give,” Shaw told them.
One of the soldiers, Donald, stepped forward. “Laird, our lady will need boards for a litter and for Henny’s…body. And more rope.”
“One of ye will need to fetch the healer for the laird and Milady. Someone grab the crofter’s tools, whatever ye can find. Let us prepare and make haste.”
It wasn’t like Donald to take charge of any situation because Henny usually directed him.
He’d been a fledgling soldier beneath Henny’s guidance and only recently was promoted to a higher-ranking position.
Shaw appreciated him stepping forward because, at that moment, he was heartsick, overcome, and feeling weak and dizzy from loss of blood as his wound continued to bleed.
He remembered that it was Henny who’d saved his life and who had told him he’d need stitches.
Now Donald knelt beside him. “Laird, what do you command? Who did this to you? What happened to Milady?”
“Idris,” he rasped and then realized that Corliss had been the one Sorsha had left camp with, and now she was missing.
He had questions to put to her. “Call Gordon. Have him find my sister. Take her into custody for she might be responsible for my wife’s injuries.
Take her home and put her in the garrison cell.
Set the remaining guardsmen to watch her.
” Fortunately, their fief was just over the ridge and his sister would be secured quickly.
Gordon shouted to Craig and they set out. Both men were well-known trackers and talented scouts. Shaw knew they wouldn’t cease their search until they found Corliss.
Cadge arrived, holding a satchel, and the older man shuffled toward him. “Let us see what’s what, Laird.” He unwrapped the wound and hissed at the sight of it. “It shall be well. I will put some salve on it to keep it from bleeding. Ye need to see the healer though, and at the soonest.”
“I’m not leaving Sorsha,” he said.
“At least take a wee bit of this to ease your pain.” Cadge handed him a small flask and he drank.
The crofter helped him to lie back on the grass while he waited, listening to his men moving about and shouting instructions to one another as they worked to rappel Sorsha up from below and to retrieve Henny’s body.
He thought about Corliss. Shaw was unsure what he’d say to her.
The thought that she betrayed him brought more dismay to his heart.
All the times Mamo had spoken truthfully about Corliss’s cruelty made him flinch.
He should have listened to his grandmother.
Mamo always said Corliss was self-serving, greedy, and was only concerned with her own needs and desires. It had all been accurate.
He shouldn’t have trusted his sister, especially around Sorsha. Guilt plagued him briefly as he thought about the suffering Sorsha had endured. But he couldn’t hold the blame for long because his wife needed him and he would move heaven and earth to get her help.
Finally, the board that carried her reached the edge, and he painfully got to his feet to move to her.
Her eyes were closed but he was relieved to see her chest rising slightly.
Praise God, she hasn’t died. Again he fell to his knees, and for the first time in his life, Shaw wept.
He cried with relief, with pain, and with love.