Page 19 of Laird of Sighs (His Highland Heart #5)
CHAPTER 19
A ilsa had watched with horror as Boden threatened Anders. Relief filled her when her father intervened until she saw the damage done to Anders’ face and knew he likely bore more bruises or worse injuries on his body. Maighread was with him. If he needed more of her care, she’d ensure the guards moved him to the herbal.
Furious, she followed her father and Boden until they reached the solar. She knew better than to go in there with them, but she moved a few feet down the hallway, out of sight of the great hall and of the solar’s doorway. Their voices carried, even though the door was closed.
“What were ye thinking? Ye had nay business taking one of the prisoners up to the wall. Did ye really think I wouldna do anything to ye if ye tossed him over to his da?”
“Ye wouldna touch me. Ye have done naught so far to yer hostages. Ye’ll let this siege go on forever, and keep feeding those Sutherlands, too. I’m the only one with the cods to do what’s needed.”
“What I’m doing is better than the clan war ye wouldha started, ye eejit !”
Ailsa heard his fist slam into his table top.
“Ye are no’ fit to be laird,” the Sinclair raged. “Ye have nay sense. Risking one of the two most valuable prisoners? Daft. Worse than daft. Irresponsible.”
“So, I should have tossed one of their sailors over the wall? I can still do that,” Boden answered.
He sounded unbowed. He’d always had a cruel streak and a temper that flared at the slightest provocation. But this was worse, words delivered coolly, even rationally, but sounding as though they came from a place of total lunacy. Ailsa’s belly clenched, her blood turning to ice in her veins. How would their father react to his son’s daring?
“Nay, ye canna. No’ without my order,” her father said, his tone still enraged. It got quiet for a moment. More softly, he added, “If it comes to that, we will have lost. Everything.”
Relief made Ailsa sag against the stone wall at her back. If he admitted that, he’d never do what Boden had attempted.
“Try anything like this again without my permission and ye will be the next one over the wall,” her father added. “Those men are my prisoners, nay yers. My bargaining chips. ’Tis no’ the time to start killing them, wasting them. No’ yet.”
At first, what Ailsa heard of her father’s condemnation of Boden’s actions had reassured her. And his admission that killing the prisoners would destroy Sinclair, as well. But the turn their conversation now took frightened her. Despite acknowledging the stakes, he was not dismissing the idea of sacrificing a few Sutherlands. ’Tis no’ the time to start killing them, wasting them. When would he decide it was time for the killing to start? His statement was more than she could excuse or accept. She suspected even her mother’s influence on her da would not be sufficient to stop the waste of lives her brother—and now even her father—contemplated.
It was time to get the men out of the dungeon and out of Sinclair before her father acquiesced to Boden’s bloodthirsty demands. Without waiting to hear any more, she hurried silently away. As soon as she was out of earshot, she ran to find the one person in a position to help her. Tasgall.
“What are ye doing here?” Anders kept his voice low, but he couldn’t have been more shocked if Ailsa had run him through with his own sword. It was the middle of the night and she had called his name, waking him, but softly enough that he wasn’t sure he’d heard anything at all. Until she called again. He’d rolled to sitting, and groaned at the pain in his torso the movement caused, though Maighread had assured him there was no damage that would not heal on its own. He stared at Ailsa, disbelieving.
She stood outside the cell, holding a torch that cast flickering light and shadows on the cell walls around them. Men had started to awaken to the light and the sound of their voices.
Ailsa’s gaze raked him from head to feet and back again. She spoke, low and urgently as she twisted the key in the cell door’s lock until it clicked. She pulled the door open. “God, yer beautiful, battered face. Damn Boden! Can ye walk? Run if need be? Grab anything ye want to take with ye. Plaids. Water skins. Tasgall is keeping watch above. We’re going to take all of ye out of the keep by the orchard postern. Now.”
“What? How?” He shook Stellan awake. “Tell me what’s going on.”
“Tasgall is helping me. Helping ye. I got nowhere with Da, and with Boden still in favor of violence, after what he did today, the only thing left to do is to make certain ye all escape. Together.”
Anders didn’t know whether to believe her or not. “Ye must come with me. We can be married at Sutherland.”
“Nay, I canna. I told ye why,” she added as she pulled open the door. “If I am missing, Da will assume ye took me against my will. He will start the war we fear. I must stay behind. I will make my presence obvious in the great hall where everyone can see me. That will give ye plenty of time to join yer clansmen and head south.” She handed Stellan the key to the other cell doors and he squeezed her hand before he passed by her.
“I canna leave ye, Love,” Anders protested. “What will yer da do to ye when he finds out who freed us?”
“I dinna care.” She lifted a hand and gently stroked his battered face. “I willna allow any of ye to be killed. If ye can convince him, tell Sutherland to send a betrothal agreement that ends this standoff,” she said. “Mother and I will talk Da into accepting it and I’ll walk out of the gates to ye as yer betrothed.”
Anders feared he would never see her again. “Ye have said yer da will never agree. I’ll stay with ye in the hope that he will eventually relent. Stellan will tell Da I chose to stay behind.”
“He willna agree to such as that, and neither will yer brother,” Ailsa hissed as Stellan moved around, unlocking the other cells and freeing their men.
“Ye are right, I willna,” Stellan said. “We all go. It does nay good to leave anyone behind.”
Anders knew that, but the reminder hurt as much as the blows Boden’s guards had landed on his belly.
“Ye must go,” Ailsa insisted. “My da willna have yer men any longer, but he will still have an army camped outside our gates. He deserves to fash over that.” She gave him a quick grin. “Even Mother wants ye gone, and she can be very persuasive with Da when she wants to. Now gather what ye have. The longer ye try to talk me into coming with ye, the more ye risk yerself and yer men being caught.”
Anders did as she bade while she went about checking on the other men. Satisfied they were all able to move, she led everyone quietly out of the dungeon. Tasgall took charge at the top of the stairs and hurried Stellan and the other Sutherlands in deep silence around the keep’s wall to the kitchen garden’s gate that led out to the orchard.
Ailsa paced at the rear with Anders, her hand gripping his as if she, too, knew this might be the last of their time together. She didn’t speak, and Anders found he couldn’t. Silence had helped them move like wraiths around the bailey. The guards on the walls were focused on the forces outside and either never noticed the furtive movement inside Sinclair, or dismissed it.
At the postern gate in the outer orchard wall, Tasgall stood with Stellan. “The others have gone out already,” Stellan told Anders quietly. “Tasgall and Ailsa risk much to free us. We must go now.”
“If he hurts ye, either of ye,” Anders said, glancing at Tasgall, “I’ll see he regrets it.”
“Kiss her,” Stellan ordered. “We must go now or we may never be free of here.”
Ailsa stepped up to Anders and gently took his face into her hands. “Send for me.”
“I will. Today.” He dropped his head to hers and claimed her lips.
“Who’s there?”
A voice reached them from the other side of the orchard.
Tasgall faded into the trees.
Ailsa gasped and pushed Anders toward Stellan. “’Tis the guard! He’ll come this way soon. Go!” She hissed. “Send for me. After this, Da will happily be rid of me.”
“Ye are mine, Love. Mine,” he repeated softly as Stellan grabbed his arm. “Hide, Ailsa. The guard will see us leaving. He canna see ye or this is all for naught.”
“I am yers,” she whispered and touched her fingers to her lips. “Be safe.” Then she did as he suggested and disappeared behind nearby trees as the guard arrived.
Anders turned back to show himself, then ran to join Stellan, crossed the last of the verge and disappeared into the nearby forest. There, he paused to make sure Ailsa had gotten away.
“Damn it,” the guard muttered. “The laird will lash the skin from me for this.”
Tasgall appeared behind him and hit him over the head with the hilt of his dirk. The guard dropped like a stone.
Anders stepped into view and waved.
Tasgall waved back, left the guard on the ground, and closed the gate.
Relief flooded Anders. The guard saw only him and Stellan. When he woke up, he would assume one of the Sutherlands hit him. Ailsa and Tasgall would be safe.
Anders followed his twin into the woods, knowing he might be disappearing from Ailsa’s life forever. The knowledge tore at his gut and he almost turned back, but the gate was closed and the orchard silent. He’d heard no outcry, so took comfort that Ailsa and Tasgall had probably gotten back into the keep without attracting any attention. Anders shuddered to think what would have happened if the postern guard had come upon them unannounced.
He paced just behind Stellan, fighting for calm. He was going home. But it would take a miracle for Ailsa to go with him. He would never have what Stellan and Mariota had. He had just walked away from the only happiness he would have been granted in life.
“I ken what ye are thinking,” Stellan said once Anders caught up to him. They were deep in the woods, following the soft sounds of the other Sutherland former captives ahead of them, and nearing the expected ring of guards Sutherland would have assigned to keep watch over the woods and the siege camp against any surprise incursion by Sinclair or its allies. “Ye canna go back into Sinclair to get Ailsa. Besides the fact that Tasgall likely locked the gate to confuse the guard into wondering what he saw, Ailsa is right. Her father would come after her, and that would force a fight we dinna want. Ye must trust that she is as eager for the betrothal as ye are. If she is, she will make it happen. If no’, ’twas never meant to be, and she is no’ yer Mariota.”
“Her da wants to strengthen his alliance with the Norse. Her mother and the healer and Cook are on Ailsa’s side, but the decision is his.”
“Those are important voices in the clan. If her father is as wise as we hope, he kens to listen to them.”
“He also listens to Boden. Look where that got us. Especially me.” He shrugged and winced as the movement aggravated his new injuries. “I hope ye are right, Brother. I wouldna want to live in Sinclair under Boden’s rule. I dinna want that for Ailsa, either.” He took a breath. “My head kens the truth of what ye say. The rest of me, nay.”
“Then remember that we swore to rule Sutherland together. Ye canna do that from up here.”
“There was a time when ye were willing to have me do it from MacKay, wed to Mariota. Ye kenned Da wouldna let ye wed her and remain at MacKay and ye thought the two of us could somehow join Sutherland and MacKay together.”
“Mariota gave us a better solution when she turned MacKay over to Seamus and came to Dunrobin to wed me. Mine was a temporary madness, and I got over it, didna I? Ye will, too, and ye will have the lass of yer dreams if ’tis truly her dream as well. Patience, Brother. Patience.”