Page 22 of The Dark Highlander’s Heart (Thorns Of The Highlands #2)

21

A rat skittered across the stone floor between Katherine’s feet.

The first few times this had happened, Katherine had recoiled with a shriek; even jumped up onto the narrow bench of rotted planks affixed to the wall, hoping it could not follow her there.

But every time, the rat had simply gazed up at her with its moist black eyes and twitched its whiskers inquisitively for several moments before continuing on its way.

Eventually, Katherine’s revulsion was replaced with a sort of dazed curiosity. The next time the rodent visited her, she did not react; indeed, she stayed as perfectly still as possible, hoping not to disturb the creature so that she might observe him more closely.

It was as close to any connection to another living creature as she supposed she might expect for the foreseeable future.

She could not be certain how much time had passed since her father had ordered her imprisoned, but it seemed to her that at least a day and night had gone by. She had sat alone in near-total darkness that entire time. A rusty hatch at the bottom of the heavy iron door squealed open every now and then, and a tray of wilted greens, tough meat, and stale bread was shoved through.

No visitors, though.

Katherine imagined that her mother was too incapacitated with one of her blasted “headaches,” and that it was likely Romilly had been forbidden to come see her by their father. She had hoped that her sister might defy the order, though, and was disappointed that she had not thus far. None of her former servants had looked in on her, and she could not blame them for being timid in the face of Laird Angus’s wrath.

Would anyone come to tell her of the weather outside; whether the sun was shining on the fields of golden heather she and Romilly used to play in as children, or if the McGregor lands were being drenched by torrents of rain?

Whatever the answers were, one thing was clear to Katherine; she could not hold out any hope for rescue. She assumed that Aitken had immediately sent out a messenger to report her imprisonment to the Oliphants. But what could they be expected to do? Laird Alex was too shrewd a leader to risk war for the sake of a lass from some enemy clan.

No matter how Bryan might beg him to do so.

Katherine wanted to pray that Bryan might come to save her, but she did not dare, for she knew the danger of it. If he attempted to infiltrate the stronghold on his own, he would almost surely perish. And would he even try, if it meant disobeying the laird he’d dedicated his life to serving?

No. This dark and dismal dungeon was her fate for as long as it was her father’s whim, and who knew how long that might be? The madness that smoldered in his hollow eyes like a pair of baneful coals sickened her soul, and she no longer recognized the man who had raised her. He had been stern and aloof back then, certainly, but not this demented ghoul who had ordered her locked away.

Would she be beneath the stronghold for weeks? Months? Years, perhaps, with only vermin to keep her company?

“What is to happen now?” she asked herself hopelessly.

Unbeknownst to Katherine, a relatively short distance from her place of captivity, Bryan Black was asking himself the same question.

He’d journeyed through the day and night, and most of the next day again. The trip had taken far longer than it normally might have, for he was forced to avoid all main roads. He could not take the chance that anyone at all might see which direction he was riding, guess his purpose, and relate it to Laird Alex—or worse, to Angus.

He knew the McGregors might already be prepared for him; that indeed, Katherine’s imprisonment might even be intended as a very specific trap for the Oliphants in general, and for himself in particular. There was every possibility that the McGregors were expecting some type of rescue, and that they might have fortified their sentry posts and defenses all the more as a result.

So he knew he could give them no reason to build them up even more. The task ahead of him was difficult enough already. Bryan loathed the stops he had to make along the way to rest himself and his horse, for he was impatient to have the matter over and done with. Every second that ticked away was another moment that the love of his life was trapped in the most horrid conditions imaginable, and he could not bear the thought of that. Even so, he knew that these stops were unavoidable. He would need his steed in the best shape possible in case a hasty escape was required later, just as he would need to be at his best himself in case he was met with any sort of resistance upon his arrival.

Therefore, he had no choice but to allow himself and his mount to recover periodically. And each time he did, he had to force himself to sit still instead of pacing fretfully and imagining every dreadful outcome he might face.

At last, he found himself within viewing distance of the McGregor Stronghold. Most of the land around the structure was a flat and grassy expanse. The forests that had once surrounded the stronghold had long since been cleared, to prevent an enemy army from hiding in the foliage as they drew closer.

Thus, Bryan had to shimmy up one of the trees closest to the edge of the woods so that he could get a better look at the stronghold’s defenses. He did not dare make his move until night fell again; he could operate under cover of darkness. Until then, though, he intended to take in as much as possible in order to plan his approach. Unfortunately, from his vantage point at the top of the tallest tree he could find, Bryan couldn’t see any promising way inside.

The walls were not as high as those of Castle Oliphant, but they were still far too tall to climb, especially since the guardsmen stationed atop them appeared quite vigilant. There were bound to be narrow tunnels at the bottom of the wall to keep rainwater from accumulating within the walls and flooding the courtyard, but Bryan could not make them out due to the tall grasses growing in front of them. Even if he could, he found it unlikely that he’d be able to fit through one of them.

However, he climbed down and found another tree that would give him a view of the stronghold from a different angle. And another. And another.

All of that searching for trees and climbing them took up most of the afternoon’s remainder, and by the time he had finished, he found himself no closer to discovering a reliable way in.

Even if he could manage that, what then? He had to assume that guards had been placed at multiple points within, between any entrance and the dungeon. Alex had not been wrong in assuming that all of this was a trap laid by Angus, and Bryan hated that he was walking into it willingly.

He hated the idea of walking into it blindly all the more.

This quest was beginning to seem more and more like suicide, yet Bryan realized that this still would not turn him away from it. If he was meant to meet his end here, so be it. At least he would have done so in an attempt to see Katherine again. Maybe, if he could make it far enough before being taken down by Angus’s men, his last sight in this world might be her face.

That was reason enough to continue this lunatic mission, and he prepared for his own imminent demise at the points of McGregor blades. Perhaps he even deserved it, he thought, for turning his back on his laird to follow the dictates of his own foolish heart.

“Ye must know it won’t work.”

The soft female voice from below startled Bryan so sharply that he nearly lost his grip on the tree and fell the rest of the way. His boots skittered against the trunk, knocking down a brittle shower of loose bark.

When he managed to get his footing again, he slid down to the grass, peering around in the gloom. “Who are ye?”

But his mind was already telling him that the voice was familiar, which was confirmed moments later, as Romilly stepped forth from the shadows of the forest floor. She looked quite different than she had the last time he’d seen her. Her face was clean, her hair was braided, and she wore fine clothes meant for riding, though Bryan saw no horse but his own.

She was deathly pale, though, and her eyes were wide with fear and uncertainty. She wrung her hands and shifted her weight from one foot to the other.

“There’s nae need tae be scared of me,” she continued in a trembling voice. “Despite being in the dark woods with a woman known tae be murderous, that is. I’m nae armed.”

“Yet still plenty dangerous, I’d wager,” Bryan retorted, his eyes narrowing

His mind replayed all of their previous awful exchanges down in the Oliphant dungeons; the way her eyes had blazed through the bars with fury, the promises of agony and revenge she had hurled at him every time.

Did she now mean to make good on those threats? There was nothing stopping her. She had caught him squarely, and could easily raise the alarm. Her voice would carry to the walls of the stronghold, even from this distance.

But if she had intended to spring a trap for him, why would she have come alone?

Who’s to say she has come alone? his mind insisted. She is easily the most black-hearted and devious lass I’ve ever encountered. There could be numerous cadres taking up positions around me.

Except if there were, he knew he would hear them, sense them. His instincts had always proven keen enough to warn him of such things. He knew they would not fail him now, even through the fog of emotion that had swirled around him ever since he’d received news of Katherine’s captivity.

“I knew that if I searched these woods, I would find ye, or some other Oliphant, searching for a way in so that my sister might be rescued,” Romilly said. “I have climbed nearly every tree in this forest at one time or another, so that I might see my own home and its defenses from every angle. ‘Twas as my father insisted.” She chuckled humorlessly. “He has insisted on so many things from me, my entire life. Some reasonable. Recently less so.”

“Ye seemed tae find it reasonable enough tae plot the butchering of Lady Isla,” Bryan reminded her through clenched teeth.

Romilly lowered her head, mortified. “I deserve that judgment from ye, aye. I blindly allowed myself tae be swept up in my father’s fervor, his hatred for the Oliphants. I did terrible things in his name, and was foolish enough tae believe they were needed for the security of my clan. And what has it gotten me? No doubt, ye are here because of Aitken’s message. Ye know my sister is imprisoned.”

He nodded slowly. “Do ye mean tae see me behind bars as well? That would be a fitting enough punishment, would it not, for what ye endured at the hands of the Oliphants?”

Romilly shook her head sharply. “I have had enough of that. There must be a way forward for our two clans, I see that now. And that cannae come tae pass while my father is allowed tae indulge his own madness and depraved whims. There can be no lasting peace while my sister is locked away senselessly, just tae taunt ye. Come. Follow me.”

“Where do ye mean for us tae go?” Bryan was loath to trust Romilly, but if she was giving a performance, it was certainly a convincing one. If nothing else, he was curious to see where it might lead.

If she truly meant him harm, there were far easier ways to achieve that than whatever game she appeared to be playing with him.

“Tae the dungeons, of course. I can show ye which sluice gates in the outer walls of the stronghold might be wide enough tae permit ye tae pass through. I can take ye through the hidden corridors of the dungeons, which will keep ye out of the guards’ sight. Without my aid, ye will have no hope of success. And I would not see ye fail with Katherine by yer side, lest she be harmed in the attempt. Besides,” she added quietly, “if my sister is tae have any hope of a happy life or future, it will have to be far away from this ghastly place. With ye.”

Bryan was somewhat taken aback by that last comment.

Romilly noticed, and smiled sadly. “Aye. Even in the brief moments when I saw ye together, I noticed how she looked at ye. With such love in her eyes. More than I ever saw there for anyone else.” She laughed humorlessly. “Even me. Now we mustn't waste another moment, for I cannae abide the thought of her in those dungeons a second longer, and I’m sure ye cannae either.”

Romilly started in the direction of the stronghold as night fell across the lowlands, and Bryan followed, not knowing what else to do. He did not feel as though he had any choice but to accept her offer and pray that it was genuine.

She found the tallest sections of grass and went down on her belly, crawling through them slowly and carefully and motioning for him to do likewise. He did, craning his neck to squint in the direction of the stronghold. His neck and back were tense; he kept expecting to hear some McGregor guardsman raise the alarm upon seeing the rustling of the grass.

But dusk had cast long shadows across the green expanse, and the sentries appeared blind to their approach.

Still, their advance was excruciatingly slow, and it seemed like hours before they reached the foot of the wall. At their present angle, the guards would not see them unless they made a point of leaning far over the edge and looking straight down. Bryan knew they would not do so, for why would they expect to see an intruder so close to them without having observed their approach long before then?

Bryan almost hated to admit it, but so far, it seemed as though Romilly’s plan would get them safely inside.

What might happen after that was anyone’s guess.

The sluice gate was so small that although Romilly was able to slip through fairly easily, Bryan’s brawny shoulders and arms got him stuck a handful of times. Each time his breath froze in his lungs, and he was gripped by the grim certainty that Romilly had meant for it to happen, that she intended to bring a horde of guards to drag him out into the courtyard by his hair.

But then he would find a bit of leeway and manage to edge forward a little more, until at last he was out under the moonlight again. As he rose to his feet, he saw that Romilly had flattened her back against the rough-hewn blocks of the wall, and so he did likewise.

“Follow me,” she bade him, sliding along the wall. “There is a hidden passage, long forgotten by most within the stronghold. It was originally constructed tae allow enough currents of air into the dungeon for the prisoners and guards so they wouldnae suffocate. We may be able tae squeeze through there, if it’s as wide as I remember.”

“If all others have forgotten it, then how do ye know about it?” Bryan tried to keep the suspicion out of his voice, but he still had his doubts about accepting Romilly’s aid.

“Most days I spent with my father, learning how tae use a sword and make the most of my wits,” she whispered. “Those days when he was too busy tae teach me anything, I roamed the stronghold, memorizing every inch of it. For the day when the Oliphants might attack, and I might have needed tae lead people tae safety.”

“Ye truly have spent yer entire life preparing for an invasion from the Oliphants?” Bryan asked, bemused. “What did our clan ever do tae make ye think we were any sort of threat tae ye?”

Romilly turned her head away, embarrassed. “Because my father told me so. No reason better than that, though I ought tae have demanded one. Now remain silent, for there shall be guards nearby, and we cannae risk alerting them tae our presence!”

“I wouldnae worry about that,” another woman’s voice cut in suddenly.