Page 28 of Chieftain By Command (Chieftain #2)

Brodwyn clamped her teeth down on the darkness surging inside her, fuming at the way Harald had turned the tables on her—for once disgusted by the way he had used her in front of the housecarls. Jamie would never have treated her so.

She couldnae deny that the notion to step into the Bear’s place at Dun Bhuird had come from her. It was their right. It was a dream she had plotted and planned in the night when Astrid and the McArthur took pleasure in making an heir for Cragenlaw while she slept in the hall with all the raff and scaff—nights when she had come to the conclusion that the only way to succeed was by using her cousin Harald. Now, when she thought of how much it had cost her to get him to act at the right time, how much she had lowered herself…

But the horrific act of murder he committed in front of her—such a thing had never crossed her mind.

She wasnae so foolish that the changes in him had gone unnoticed—the cruel edge to his treatment of her for one–and how she’d put up with it when all the time the bastard had been playing his own game.

Truth to tell, the first two men’s lives meant nothing to her.

But Magnus? Ach, to have witnessed that, to have watched the relish Harald had shown in killing an auld man when in fact Harald’s carelessness was to blame, by losing the skhean dhu he wore inside his boot. The knife had come down to him from their great-grandfather. The blade had his name embedded on one side in gold: Dragon Slayer, a name Harald secretly like to claim as his own.

But then he had never been able to see farther than his long nose. Imagine believing that, living this close to Caithness, nary a soul would be found who could read the runes.

She tried shrugging off the ire building deep inside. Her lips curled in a sneer, unable to lie still. As if Harald could ever live up to the man the Dragon Slayer had been. She also wondered how her cousin had managed to twist two of the housecarls to his will, and then she remembered the bullock wagons filled with silver. There were many envious of such wealth and who hated Farquhar as much as she and Harald did.

The worst thing of it all, by acting when he did, Harald had robbed her of any choice she’d had. He had failed to mention his plans, simply expected her to comply. Now, she would have to go along with Harald no matter where the road took her. That’s why she kept her temper tamped down. She had no intention of becoming the next person he delighted in slicing up.

And Jamie … she flattened her lips, but a shuddering sigh escaped them. Brodwyn knew from the first time they had made love that eventually he’d be lost to her, just not that losing him would hurt so much.

With their heads freed from smothering swathes of plaid, Kathryn and Lhilidh could see once again. Kathryn’s slice of the view through the partially open door was mostly tinted red, and that told her the time of day. With the sun going down again, they must have been travelling for almost two days.

Lhilidh sobbed softly, her head resting awkwardly on Kathryn’s shoulder. Though free of the folds of the plaids that had blinded their eyes, their wrists and ankles were still bound, making trying to rise up to their feet an impossibility. Listening to her whimpers, Kathryn’s heart clenched. She blamed herself, felt terrible that the lass was here because of her, both of them in danger. Selfishly she wished she could let herself give into the need to cry, but she had to stay strong, set an example to the lass she had come to think of as a sister. How could she not feel responsible for Lhilidh?

As unbelievable as that seemed, somehow the weight of that wee soul felt heavier on her shoulders than the whole of the clan put together. Thank the Lord for Gavyn. She knew he would come after her. To think she had thought to lead the clan by herself, believed she could do as well as any man…

Now she knew the truth and she could face it with an open heart as long as the man was Gavyn, her love.

She let her chin lie on her chest and thanked God and Malcolm Canmore for sending Gavyn to her and prayed he would come soon. She had never for a moment doubted he would be searching for her and hunting down Harald. Her cousin wasn’t worth a tithe of her husband’s many qualities.

It was ironic that Harald had pushed them into this wee round broche with her own housecarls on the door to guard her—traitors both of them.

She hoped Gavyn killed them.

Kathryn gritted her teeth and laid her cheek atop Lhilidh’s head. She’d like to kill them herself, proof she had more of her father in her than the clansfolk might suppose.

Outside, she heard Harald raise his voice, and all the murderous thoughts filling her mind faded while she concentrated on hearing what he was saying, “Ye cannae turn us away; it’s done now. We have to proceed with the plan.”

Harald’s voice sounded whiney compared to the growl that answered him, “I have to do naught.” If Erik had been a bear, by comparison, this man was a wolf. “You brought this down upon yourselves, you and Brodwyn both. You call this a plan? Yer wrong, it was an impulse—an impulse that blinded ye to the need to confer with me.”

Harald’s voice was unmistakable as he mewled an excuse. “I thought that together we could make sure he surrendered Dun Bhuird to us. With the Dun in our grasp, we would have another barrier between Caithness and Malcolm Canmore, you and I.’

Harald was so obviously pleading. Kathryn pictured him down on his knees, crawling. It made a braw picture.

“Cousin!” the word slashed the air, cutting. “Ye didnae think. If ye had then ye would have spoken to me first, at which time I would have told ye that I have twenty ships and crews tied up alongside the Ness ready to sail for Ireland. The Irish have been raiding all up and down the coast, and we’re intent on taking revenge. It’s time now. Time to take back our people. I was up the coast the last time the Irish came. They took slaves. Ingrid was one of them.”

“But—”

“But me nae buts. Ye come here with two men and want help to fight off Farquhar and all his mercenaries. Well, ye ken fine I can’t fight on two fronts, and I’m intent on getting Ingrid back. Ye will have to take that pair back, or let them go and find somewhere to hide.”

Kathryn didn’t know what to think, to hope. To pray…

Would he let them go?

Her heart felt leaden at the thought of never seeing Gavyn, to never feel his arms enfold her or his mouth on hers. What she had before he came home was as naught compared to her life with him in it. At least she had had that, but what of poor Lhilidh? She’d never had the love she deserved, or the life and family Kathryn wished for her. Life wasn’t fair, but then for a Scottish lass in this day and age it seldom was.

She could count herself lucky that she’d had Gavyn, received his love, if only for a short time.

At that thought, the bairn inside her kicked. All at once the determination to fight filled her. A mother’s instinct to protect her young, like the Scottish wildcat Gavyn had likened her to, she would fight, do anything she could to save her offspring.

Nhaimeth rode perched behind Rob, with Gavyn and Jamie riding the other two horses. They were sturdy beasts, and yet another of Bienne á Bhuird’s particulars that Gavyn hadn’t heard about. He’d been too busy concentrating on the Dun’s defences because that’s why the King had made him Chieftain and why he had left … God’s blood … left the woman he had come to love and now might lose.

Now it appeared he had been o’er smart for his own guid.

If he had learned anything as a mercenary, it had to be that war was the quickest way to make enough silver if you needed to pay for fierce warriors and build defensive walls and tall keeps. However, unlike Wolfsdale where he had been brought up, he hadn’t learned all the wee things he would have known had Bienne á Bhuird been his home. Nhaimeth had known the Dun would never be his, yet he had still hoarded every little kernel of knowledge.

That’s where Canmore pushing him into another man’s seat had let the clan down. More than that, had let Kathryn wife down.

Never again, he promised as, unconsciously, the reins he held drew level with his heart, level with the place he wanted to keep Kathryn with love.

A promise he would make to Kathryn’s face when they caught up with them.

They travelled westward toward the setting sun. The tracks they followed were much fresher than the ones they had first come upon, which meant they were gaining on them.

The mount Rob and Nhaimeth rode bounded past Gavyn, brushing through a tangle of yellow and red laden twigs of birch and beech. “We saw something glinting up ahead,” Nhaimeth explained as they left him behind.

“What is it?” Jamie yelled spurring after them.

“Water, a loch, or sea shining in the distance. Whoa the ground is falling away here. We’re at the top of a brae.”

“Caw canny,” Gavyn warned. “Don’t break through the trees without thought, if we’re getting closer. Don’t give them any warning.”

Within moments, Rob had reined their mount in and sat staring into the distance. Following him, Gavyn saw the lowering sun outline islands in the distance and, worse, a firth or ness with a row of ships tied up—a dozen, probably more, with oars shipped.

A picture leapt to the forefront of Gavyn’s mind’s eye. Kathryn and Lhilidh being dragged aboard to be sold as slaves. A sharp breath grazed his nose, sent his nostrils flaring while his lips flattened tight against his teeth at the thought.

Closer at hand, a long house was tucked into the foot of the brae as well as a scattering of round, thatched broches. Smoke rose above the longhouse. From its placement, a hole in the centre of the roof, he imagined there was an open fire pit. And slightly behind it he saw more smoke, too much to be somebody cooking supper.

At full gallop, they could be upon them swiftly and take them by surprise. “We can be there before nightfall.” He grasped the head of his war axe and pulled it out from the strap that fastened it to his back. “Listen,” he said. “Can you hear the barking? The rest will be up with us soon, but not soon enough, we haven’t time to wait.” One-handed, he slashed at the branches of the trees closest to him. “I want the way we went to be obvious when the rest get here. The hounds and mastiffs will be following Kathryn and Lhilidh’s scents, not ours.”

Jamie curled his reins around his fist as he caught Gavyn’s eye. The lad hadn’t said much since they’d left Dun Bhuird, but Gavyn could tell by the way he held himself, sat his horse, he was anxious to catch up with them. The Ruthven lad had been first up the cliff face after Nhaimeth, his expression closed, though Gavyn could imagine what was going on in his mind: Brodwyn’s treachery.

An experience like that could make a lad grow up quickly. “Do ye think they’ll be on the ships?” he asked as he eased his mount forward.

“They could, but I hope not. I doubt there is any chance of them sailing before morning. It’ll depend on the tide. If they’re aboard, it will be more difficult to rescue them. The vessels don’t look huge, probably take a crew of twenty at the most.” Gavyn put a hand up to shade his eyes and peered into the red light shining on the water. “How’s your eyesight? Are the ships wearing warheads, dragons mayhap,” he wondered, thinking of the Dragon Slayer.

Nhaimeth answered, “Most likely wolves if they’re Harald’s cousins’.”

A pair of large black birds landed on a branch near Gavyn’s shoulder, as if to remind him of his insignia flying on the shield that rested on his mount’s rump.

He was surprised they were still with them, and had yet to come to a conclusion about their reason for following them. He gave no credence to Nhaimeth’s mystical explanation.

“No matter, we must be on our way. Stay under the trees as long as possible. Once it’s dark we’ll be harder to see.” And so Gavyn led the way, his eyes and heart seeking out his wife. His Kathryn.