Reckless by Hannah Howell

12

“How long?”

Barra grimaced as he helped Alexander sit up and sip at some honey-sweetened gruel. He did not want to answer that question, for once he did there would be others that would be harder to answer. Unfortunately, Alexander had done nothing else but ask it since he had woken up. Barra sighed as he realized he could no longer evade the confrontation that was so long overdue.

“A month—give or take a few days.” He shrugged when Alexander stared at him, in openmouthed surprise.

“A month? Nay, ye jest. ‘Tis not the sort of wit I wish to hear just now.” Alexander sagged against his pillows after Barra took away his light support and wondered why he felt so weak and light-headed. “Now—how long have I been ill?” He lifted his hand to wipe the light sheen of sweat from his face only to hold his hand before his eyes in horrified surprise. It was bone thin and shook like some old man’s. “A month?”

After gently pressing Alexander’s hand back down, Barra wiped his brother’s face. “Aye—a month. Ye were ill by the time we returned from Leargan. The cold, the beating, and the loss of blood from your wound nearly killed ye.”

“ ‘Tis why I look so emaciated and feel nearly too weak to keep my eyes open.”

“Aye. There may even be a chance that the arrow was poisoned. Or carried some filth to sicken ye. There was little we could do but to try to keep ye alive. It wasna easy.”

“I remember nothing. Was I out of my head?”

“Nay.” Barra tugged a stool over to the edge of the bed and sat down facing Alexander. “There is no way to soften such news. Sometimes ye were out of your wits. We even had to tie ye down a time or two. Other times ye were so deep asleep we feared ye would slip that last step unto death.”

“And Ailis?” Alexander found no cause to hope in the expression of Barra’s face. “Still trapped at Leargan?”

“Aye. I fear so. Jaime stayed with her. Angus offered to share his horse with the brute, but Jaime wouldna leave his mistress. He said he would protect her.”

“Oh, aye, him and that cursed Malcolm,” Alexander muttered, an image of Malcolm holding Ailis distinct in his mind.

Barra shook his head. “There are a few things ye clearly remember all too well.”

“I also remember that we had to leave her with MacCordy. So, a month. Then winter has truly arrived.”

“With a vengeance. Even if we dinna get any more snow, ‘twill take till spring for what is already on the ground to melt away.” Barra gave his brother a faint smile. “I think it might take ye that long to regain your strength.”

Alexander struggled to sit up, dismayed when it proved to be too difficult. “Donald MacCordy willna let my child live for very long after he is born. I must rescue Ailis and our child as soon as I can.”

“We are all ready to save Ailis and your child.” Barra clasped his brother’s hand in his. “Ye ken how impossible it is to launch a successful attack—small or large—in the heart of the winter. And, as I keep saying, ye need to get strong again. This is the first time we have talked since ye left to see the priest. Aye, and ‘tis evident to the greatest of fools that this is tiring ye.”

“The priest! Did he betray us?”

“Nay, ‘twas a man who worked at such chores as mucking out the cowshed. ‘Tis strange, but that man was the only one who died. Angus found the man in the inn’s kitchen stuffed into an empty wine cask. His throat had been cut.”

“The poor misguided fool probably thought that MacCordy would act with honor.” He looked toward the narrow window, and although he could not see outside, he could easily imagine what it looked like. “I must wait until spring to retake what is mine—whether I heal quickly or nay.”

“I fear so. It willna be easy to retrieve her. We dinna want to fight mud and weather as well as the MacCordys and the MacFarlanes. Ailis is only good to them if she is alive, and the child isna due until May, mayhaps even early June. There is time. Dinna waste your strength in worrying over what canna be changed. Save it for healing. Ailis had Jaime with her. He will watch over her. She will still be alive when we are finally able to go after her.”

“That is all true, but after six months under Donald MacCordy’s brutal fist, will she still want to live—and will our child survive it?”

Alexander was not surprised when Barra was silent.

 

Ailis sat on her bed and glared at the heavy door that stood between her and even the smallest of freedoms. For a moment anger overcame the fear that continuously gnawed at her and had done so in the three months she had been a prisoner at Craigandubh. They had fled to the MacCordy keep within days of Alexander’s rescue. Even her uncle and stepaunt had come along, although she saw nothing of them, and they gave her no help. She was tempted to throw her meal tray at the door, but she wanted the food too badly to waste it.

She smoothed her hand over her rounding stomach as she munched on a thick slab of honey-coated bread. The quickening she could feel now was her only source of happiness at the moment. Her child was still well. She knew that would continue as long as she and the baby were so intimately connected, so interwoven, that harm to one caused harm to the other. Spring would steal that protection, and she had to keep her strength to fight or flee the dangers she would face then.

Loneliness was her worst enemy. She saw only Jaime, her step-aunt, whose mental confusion seemed worse every day, and Donald, who delighted in threatening her unborn child. Malcolm visited a few times, then decided she was safe enough and traveled on to his own keep, a small peel tower he held for his cousins. She almost missed him. Without Malcolm, Jaime was her only pleasant company. Her stepaunt Una did not always make sense. And Donald, she thought with a renewed flare of anger, came only to frighten her and speak gloatingly of killing her child. Since any sort of physical abuse could seriously risk her life, he had stooped to verbal assault. A lot of times he succeeded in stirring her terror, for her child was her only real weakness.

A soft rap at her door drew her attention, and she waited to see if her visitor was a welcome one or not. A dull, cowed maid entered to take her meal tray, but right behind her was Jaime. Ailis breathed a sigh of relief as the maid left and locked them in together. For a minute she had feared that Donald would arrive, and she was not prepared for the man’s almost daily dose of invective.

“I dinna suppose ye have heard any word of Rathmor,” she said as Jaime sat down on a heavy wooden bench near the narrow window.

“Ye ask me that every day.”

“I am sorry. ‘Tis just that I worry so—about Alexander, about the children, and about getting back there.”

“Are ye sure that getting back to Rathmor is really what ye wish to do?”

“Where else am I to go? My child would be at risk of his life in the hands of the MacCordys and at risk of being treated like a painful, must-be-hidden shame by his own maternal kinsmen. That leaves the father’s clan, the MacDubhs of Rathmor. For all of his faults, Alexander has said that he will wed me, and I am certain that he will do his utmost to keep this bairn safe. That has become of the greatest importance to me. In truth, plots and plans to keep his child alive could well be all that has kept me sane. Months of staring at these damp walls or Donald’s ugly face is certainly enough to steal a person’s wits.”

Jaime shook his head. “The man lets his mind prey on the matter, on ye and the bairn and MacDubh. I fear ‘tis turning his wits. His talk grows darker, mistress. I wouldna ignore what Donald MacCordy says no matter how strange it sounds. That fury Sir Malcolm protected ye from hasna died.”

“Nay, I ken it. Donald but swallows it, and it begins to rot his innards.”

“Aye, true.”

Ailis studied Jaime for a moment, realizing what changes had occurred in the man. In the months since the MacDubhs had swept them up and carried them away, Jaime had grown, had matured. The stutter could still appear under extreme duress but not as strongly as it had been. Jaime’s confidence had strengthened.

“And how goes it for ye?” she asked. “Ye appear to be doing well enough.”

“Well enough. I miss Kate and the children.”

“Ah, aye—Kate. I should think ye would wish to return to Rathmor, to return to Kate.” Ailis knew that Kate was the reason Jaime had become so much stronger. Kate’s love had finished the work Ailis had started.

“I do want to get back to Kate.” A light flush tainted his dark features. “ ‘Tis my duty to care for ye.”

“Jaime, I ken that most people think ye are my bondservant, but ye arena. Ye never were. Dinna start believing it yourself. If ye wish to be with Kate, then that is where ye should be. Ye must not risk your own happiness.”

“Kate will wait for me. I ken ye dinna own me, but I owe ye. And we are friends—aye?”

“Aye. If God favors us, Kate willna have to wait too long for ye to return.”

“I hope not. But how can we return to Rathmor? Either of us? We are kept prisoner here.”

“A chance to slip away could come, and we must be prepared. That is what I do. I dinna think on whether or not my opportunity will arise, but that it will and how I must act to take the fullest advantage of it.”

“Is there anything I can do? I am allowed more and more freedom as each day passes. They dinna consider me such a great threat since I have sworn that I shall behave. At night I am secured, but not very much during the day. Could that help us?”

“Oh, aye, Jaime, it could help. After all, we shall need to ken where to go once we do get out of here. A route of escape needs to be surveyed.”

“And ye truly believe that we will get out of here?”

“I have to believe that, Jaime.” She lightly smoothed her hands over her stomach. “I have to.”

“And ye have to get away from Donald ere that bairn comes out.”

“Oh, sweet Mary, aye—as far as I can.”

* * *

Ailis tried not to grunt as she hefted herself up onto the bed and failed. She was not sure which darkened her mood more—the dull, rainy spring weather or the size of her own body. Escape had continued to elude her and Jaime throughout the long, cold winter. Now she was not sure that she could escape even if Donald himself held every door open for her.

Her fears were getting harder to subdue. Spring was upon them, and she was sure her child would soon be born. Donald’s threats grew more vicious until she was left nauseated and shaking after each one of his visits. The child she carried had become the symbol of all the insults Donald believed the MacDubhs had flung at him over the years. He would use her child to vent his fury and to demonstrate the increasing hate he felt toward Alexander and her.

“I must escape,” she whispered and struggled against the urge to weep.

Donald’s repeated threats to cut her baby’s throat before her very eyes and send the pieces back to Alexander was the one that lingered the most in her mind. It left her with tormented dreams, nightmares that caused her to wake up shaking and sweating. She was sure that that was not good for her.

A soft scratching at her door and the murmur of voices drew her attention. Her hopes rose, then fell when her stepaunt Una entered followed by Jaime, who brought in a tray holding a jug of wine and three tankards. It was always welcome to have company who did not threaten or terrify her, but she needed help now; she needed it desperately. As dear as the befuddled woman was, Una was no aid and Jaime was nearly as helpless as her.

“Jaime,” Ailis began, her growing desperation clear to hear in her voice.

“Have some wine, mistress.” Jaime urged Una to sit next to Ailis, then served the two women some wine. “Lady Una has something she needs to say to ye. Ye had best heed her, I am thinking.”

It was hard not to give in to a sense of irritation. Ailis sipped her wine and looked at her plump stepaunt. The woman was barely five years her senior, yet there was an abundance of gray in the woman’s hair. Ailis did sympathize with Una’s dreadful life, but she needed answers now, not one of Una’s jumbled tales.

“Spring is here, Jaime,” she said and was surprised when Jaime shushed her.

“I ken. Let Lady Una speak.” He patted the timid woman’s trembling hand. “Now, tell my mistress what ye told me.”

When Una suddenly looked at her, Ailis felt her irritation fade. There was a different look in the woman’s gray eyes, a different expression on her round face. Una looked as if all her wits were fully intact. The vague, dreamy air was gone, replaced by torment, fear, and a tremulous determination. Ailis wondered how long the change would last.

“What do you want to tell me, Aunt Una?” She also patted the woman on one plump arm.

“Ye must go away,” Una said, her voice soft and tremulous. “It isna safe here for ye.”

It was very hard not to make some sharp reply. The woman was suddenly aware of what was around her. Caustic words would not accomplish anything. Ailis did not really want to be responsible for scaring the woman’s wits away again. Poor Una had suffered enough abuse and fright from the MacFarlanes.

“I ken it, Aunt Una. Jaime and I have thought on little else since we were caged here.”

“Ye must go away now. Now!” Una grabbed hold of Ailis’s hands. “Just as I have paid little or no heed to all said and done about me, I have tried to ignore the talk this time. Sir Donald speaks such filth.” She placed a hand on Ailis’s abdomen. “They say that I am mad. They havena listened to Sir Donald speak of what he plans for your bairn. I kenned that I couldna ignore it when it began to torment me in my dreams.”

“It torments my dreams as well. Sir Donald makes no secret of his plans.”

“Your uncle doesna seem to ken what happens about him. But, nay, Donald isna too cautious. He means to kill your bairn before your eyes and then send the child to his father in wee pieces.”

She had heard the threat before, many times, but, oddly, she found it even more terrifying when spoken in the fear-shaken voice of her timid stepaunt. “He has told me just that time and time again over these last few months.”

“Well, what suddenly made me listen was that he means it. He will do it. He will. I heard it in his voice. I did. ‘Twas as if someone slapped me awake. A bairn, a wee innocent bairn. The men sit there listening to Sir Donald talk of this horrible murder and say naught. They are all stinking cowards. Well, I willna sleep through this; I willna dither or dream. Ye are getting away from here tonight.”

“Tonight?” Ailis tried not to put all her hopes into Una’s prediction, but it was impossible. For far too long she had not even the glimmer of an opportunity to escape. “Dinna tease me with this.”

“I would never be so cruel, child. Aye, useless at most times, but never cruel, I hope.”

“Nay, of course not. I am just so desperate to get away that I am almost afraid to believe that a chance has come.”

Una smiled, sadness twisting her expression. “Especially when ‘tis offered by one who canna even recall where she is on most days.” She held up her hand when Ailis started to politely protest. “Nay, ‘tis true. It began as a ploy to protect myself from my husband, your uncle. I discovered quite by accident that, if he thought me witless, he left me alone. I have been doing it for so long that it isna always an act now. So, we had best make our plans ere my clarity disappears.”

“Are ye sure ye can help us get out of the keep?” Jaime asked. “We must be released from our chambers, from the keep itself, and then from the bailey. It does us no good if all ye can do is unlock our chambers door.”

“I can get ye outside. Truly, I can. My maid makes it her business to learn the ways of escape in every place we go. She judged my husband well, saw that he would never tend to our safety, and so she did it herself. I will take Jaime and show him the way in case anything happens to me.”

Ailis nodded. They all knew what Una feared—the return of the vagueness she could no longer control. It did not need to be talked about. Ailis was glad the woman understood her own weaknesses enough to prepare for any trouble they might cause.

“When should we do this?” she asked, glancing from Jaime to Una.

“Midnight,” Una answered. “The witching hour. Jaime says that is the quietest time at Craigandubh. Those who arena on watch are asleep, and those who are on watch arena very alert.”

“And they will be looking outward.”

“Aye,” agreed Jaime. “They watch for an attack. Not an escape.”

“We must go on foot?” Ailis patted her heavy belly as she considered that possibility.

“To try and take a mount would be dangerous. Ye canna slip away into the shadows whilst tugging along a horse.” Jaime frowned at her. “We shall have to walk—at least at the beginning. Can ye manage that?”

“Aye, I can. I must. There is no other choice. We shall need some food.”

“I can gather some without stirring any suspicion.” Jaime stood up and helped Una stand. “Ye just be ready to leave, mistress.”

Ailis also stood up and then hugged Una. “Come with us. Ye have no life with my uncle.”

“Ye are a sweet lass. Nay, I canna go. I havena the courage. And ‘twill be best for ye if I linger here. I would only slow ye down, and my disappearance might raise an alarm earlier than ye would want.”

“What if they discover that ye have helped me?”

“I dinna think there is a danger of that. Even if I was directly accused, none of those men would believe it. Take care, wee Ailis. Take care of that baby. Dinna let the one brave thing I have done in my life go to waste.”

Jaime led Una away. For the first time since she had been dragged to Craigandubh, Ailis did not mind the sound of the bolt sliding across and locking her in. There was hope now. In a few hours there could also be freedom.

 

There was not much room to pace in her bedchamber, but Ailis was unable to be still. She had not thought that a half day of waiting would be so difficult, but the moment Jaime and Una had left, time had slowed to a painful crawl. She feared every sound she heard, for it could be Donald coming to torment her with the discovery and thwarting of her escape attempt. Another thing she dreaded was word from Jaime that poor Una had returned to her vague, deluded self and, worse, that she had done so before she could reveal the way out. Occasionally she had the wild thought that the visit from Una and Jaime, the talk of the escape, had all been a dream brought on by her own desperate desire.

She rubbed her damp palms dry on her brown woolen undertunic. There had not been much for her to do in preparation, and she knew that did not help. Some work would have helped to fill the time and make her feel as if she was accomplishing something. Instead, she paced and worried, worried and paced.

Her child kicked inside of her, and she moved to sit on the bed, gently smoothing her hands over her stomach. It was not going to be easy to walk back to Rathmor. She prayed that her escape would not be as dangerous for her child as Donald MacCordy so clearly was. She also prayed that she would not just find more grief at Rathmor. There had not been any definite word on Alexander. It was possible that she could return to Rathmor to find him resting in the kirkyard next to his little Elizbet. She forced that thought from her mind.

“Ailis.”

That soft call startled her so that she nearly cried aloud, but quickly clapped her hands over her mouth. She glared at Jaime as he quietly shut the door behind him and walked over to the bed. She had been so caught up in her own worries that she had not heard him arrive.

“Ye frightened me out of a year or two, at least,” she scolded Jaime, then realized what his presence meant. “ ‘Tis midnight? ‘Tis time for us to escape this place?” She grasped his hands in hers and hopped off of the bed.

“Aye, if ye are hale enough for the ordeal.”

“It canna possibly be any more of an ordeal than being entombed at Craigandubh with Donald MacCordy.”

“I just dinna want ye to think that all will be well now. It might not be.” Jaime frowned as she quickly donned her cloak.

“Oh, I ken the risks well enough, dinna fear, my friend. I ken the risks of lingering here, too. The ones I face by leaving are chanced in an attempt to keep my child alive. ‘Tisna too high a price to pay.”

“Nay, mistress, it isna. Stay close behind me and, if ye find it grows too dim in a place or two, get a good strong grip on the bag secured to me back.” He glanced at her belly. “I think ye will fit through everywhere.”

“Ye just push me and pull me until I get unstuck.” She took him by the hand. “Come along ere someone comes to check on us. ‘Twould kill me to be caught when escape is so close to hand. What is in the bag?”

“Some food, a few other important supplies, and some extra clothing for the both of us.”

“I dinna ken what I would do without ye, Jaime.”

“Ye would escape on your own.”

She exchanged a smile with him as they stepped out of her chambers and Jaime locked the door behind them. He had not been able to hide a slight puff of pride over her words. They both knew that she would have tried to get free with or without him, but that his presence was extremely helpful. Ailis also knew that this late in her pregnancy his presence could all to easily prove to be vital to her.

Without a word they crept along the narrow hall, keeping to the shadows. Ailis was a little surprised at how lax the guard was within the keep itself. She and Jaime were able to get all the way down into the food storage chambers beneath the great hall without once being challenged. All that changed was that what dim light there had been from the occasional torch completely vanished as they crept down the steep stairway into the food cellars of Craigandubh. Ailis had to clutch at the bag on Jaime’s back.

Jaime finally paused to light a candle, and Ailis breathed a sigh of relief. They had slowed down to the point where they inched along at a painfully slow pace. The candle gave them enough light for Jaime to move faster, and she allowed herself to be tugged along. It was awkward, but she preferred that to moving so dangerously slowly that they seriously risked being discovered.

When Jaime stopped in front of a wall, she stepped aside to watch. It was obvious that the escape route from the MacCordy keep had not been used in a long while, and in a display of common MacCordy stupidity, it had not been cared for, either. Jaime was hard-pressed to open the small door hidden behind a stack of wine casks. The surge of stale, musty air that escaped when he finally opened it made her cough. It also made her very reluctant to follow him into the tunnel beyond. She knew what kind of creatures called such dark, damp places their home. Then she looked at Jaime and wondered how, with his tormenting fears, he could even contemplate going into such a place.

“Jaime?” She put her hand on his arm and drew his attention away from the dark tunnel. “Can ye do it? Mayhaps there is another way?”

“Nay, there is no other way. We must go through here.” She edged closer and peered inside. “It looks and smells like all the places ye so deeply dread.”

“Aye, but I shall have a wee light and I shallna be alone.”

“Do ye want me to make a noise, a steady sound as we go along, so that ye ken that I am right with ye?”

He nodded. “That would be a help. And keep a firm hold on my hand.”

She immediately put her hand in his. “Done. Just keep telling yourself that we move forward, toward freedom, that we are escaping, not being captured, and that at the end of this lies the open air.”

“The open, cold, and damp air.” He frowned at her. “The weather isna good. It could be dangerous for ye.”

“Staying here is dangerous for me, Jaime. Even if the snow were still knee-deep and more were falling, I would leave here. Enough of this talking about it.” She stepped into the low, narrow tunnel and tugged him after her.

It was a moment before Jaime shut the tunnel door behind them. Ailis held the candle and struggled to subdue her own rising fear. She eagerly took Jaime’s hand when he reached out for her. There was a faint tremor in his grip, and she gave his hand a gentle squeeze. As they started to go through the tunnel, Jaime had to walk slightly crouched over and tug Ailis along behind him. In an attempt to keep his mind from preying upon his own fears, Ailis began to softly hum an old song. She found the sound comforting for herself as well.

Once at the end of the tunnel Jaime hurried to open the small hatch. Yet again neglect had made it more work than it should have been. Ailis stepped back as he put all of his strength and weight behind forcing the door open. When the hatch finally gave, Jaime quickly pushed it open, sidestepping the debris that fell into the tunnel. Ailis took a deep breath of the cool night air as it rushed into the tunnel and heard Jaime do the same.

Jaime climbed out first, then gently helped her get out. As Jaime shut the hatch and covered it with dead leaves and other debris, she looked around. They had come up inside of a tiny, ruined stone cottage. As long as they were careful, they were far enough from the walls of Craigandubh to escape unseen. If only the weather were more hospitable, she thought with a grimace and better secured the hood of her cloak in hopes of keeping dry despite the continuous and very cold drizzle. Soft as it was, that rain could easily prove to be their biggest foe.

“Where are we going?” she asked Jaime when, as they left the poor ruin, Jaime turned north instead of west, which was the direction of Rathmor and safety.

“We canna head straight for Rathmor, lass.”

“Nay? ‘Tis where we want to go. All things considered, I am not sure that adding to the miles we must travel is the wisest thing to do.” She tucked her skirts up, securing them under the loose girdle she wore, so that they would not be dragging in the wet and the mud and slowing her down. “I am in no condition to endure a long march.”

“If we travel for Rathmor in a fine straight line, we willna reach there. We will just make ourselves very tired ere the MacCordys and your uncle ride out and fetch us back to Craigandubh.”

“Do ye think it would be that simple?”

“Mayhaps not that simple, but very nearly so. We are an odd pair, lass. ‘Twill be very hard for us to hide. The best we can do is to try and hide our trail.”

“Ah, I see, and going in a roundabout way will do that?”

“It could help.” He lifted her over a fallen log, then paused. “Do ye think it a foolish plan? I tried to think slow and careful, and to see all my choices as ye once told me to do. I thought this would trick Donald, at least for a wee while.”

Ailis nodded and patted his arm. “Ye have planned well, far better than I. My only real plan was to flee, to get back to Rathmor. Ye gave the how of it a great deal more thought. Aye, Donald would never think that we would show any cleverness. He will hie straight for Rathmor. It will take him a while to realize he has seen no sign of his prey and pause to consider the why of it.”

“So I thought. It could buy us at least a day, mayhaps more. We shall make a gentle turn toward Rathmor. Then, once it lies straight ahead of us, we shall try to move as swiftly as we can, yet stay hidden.”

“Do ye think we can stay hidden with all the MacCordys and MacFarlanes beating the bushes for us?”

“Aye, I do. We are but two people on foot. Most times we can see our hunters ere they can see us. Aye, or hear them. If we keep close to shelter, never get caught out in the open, it could prove easier than ye think.”

“Oh, it would have to. I think we face a very great challenge.”

“We are up to the challenge,” he said. “Ye have to believe that.”

“I will try,” she murmured and prayed that she could maintain the strength she would need not to become a burden.