Awaiting the Wolf Killer Highlander by Alisa Adams

8

“So, how well do you know this Laird Nathan?” Sorcha asked.

They had been riding side by side for several hours. Sorcha had been lost in thought, and Malcolm had felt it might be best to leave her undisturbed. He knew that she had much to fret about between the situation back home and the prospect of marrying a man she had never met before.

Then again, I have many conflicting feelings to untangle as well, he reminded himself. Now that I have told her of Nathan, there is no going back. Naturally, I must hope that they wed and that such an event lifts the curse Davina spoke of.

I must hope that, else I admit to myself that I have made a terrible mistake in forfeiting this woman I am bewitched by to another man. A good man, perhaps, in his way, but even so…

And now this question. How much could he dare to confess to her? After so many years, could he even bring himself to talk about it?

He supposed he had to, for her sake. No matter how difficult it might be for him.

“What I am about to tell you,” he began, “I have never revealed to anyone my entire life. However, you have every right to know precisely how I am acquainted with this man who might be your groom. I must ask, however, that you guard my secret well once you have heard it, for to do otherwise might well condemn me to death.”

“Good heavens, such a dire answer to such a simple query.” Sorcha was clearly trying to sound amused, but Malcolm could hear the anxiety beneath her tone. “Very well, you have my word.”

He hoped that he could trust her to keep it, but at this point, he supposed he had little choice in the matter. “Recently, you asked whether Malcolm Haldane is my true name. It is not. Once, long ago, I was called Marcus Fraser. I was brother to Nathan.”

Sorcha frowned. “Why should that be a secret?”

“I was forced to flee at a young age,” he told her, “while my brother remained behind.”

“What happened?”

Malcolm looked at her with an expression so stricken with grief that it almost frightened her. “I beg of you, my lady, do not ask me that.”

She nodded. “Fair enough. I apologize for upsetting you so.”

“It is not your fault,” he answered. “I have lived with the shame of it for long enough that one might think it would no longer bother me. Alas, such is not the case. At any rate, I can assure you that when I knew him, Nathan was more than a brother to me; he was my dearest friend. A bit careless with his words sometimes, perhaps, and oblivious to the feelings of others here and there, but that is true of so many who are noble-born. Present company excluded, of course, my lady,” he added hastily.

Sorcha laughed lightly. “It’s quite all right. I suppose the same could be said of me as well from time to time.”

“I have seen no evidence of that, though your humility is duly noted,” he replied with a grin. “Come, we ought to stop and rest for a short while. We still have quite a journey ahead of us.”

Meanwhile, as they tended to their homestead, Dand and Maisie heard hoofbeats thundering toward them. They looked to the crest of the nearest hill apprehensively, hoping that whoever approached would not venture too close.

It was Carr, riding with three of his kinsmen. One of them pulled a small cart behind him.

They came to a stop in front of the cottage, and Carr sniffed the air, grinning with his gray and broken teeth. “Ahh, ‘tis a beautiful day indeed, is it not? The sun shines, the birds sing, and the breeze carries the sweet scent of the wildflowers down the hillside and all the way to town! A lovely perfume, to be sure! I simply must find occasion to ride up here more often.”

Dand looked up at them, shielding his eyes against the glare of the midday sun. “Hello, good sirs. Do you have some business with us? If so, we are at your disposal, as long as you do not draw near to us.”

“We have an infant,” Maisie added, “and we must protect her from the sickness which has ravaged the castle.”

“Then I fear I have regrettable news for you, lass,” Carr sneered, “for ‘tis the castle you and yours shall be going to. Or, more accurately, its dungeons.”

“What?!” Dand balked. “What is the meaning of this? We have done nothing wrong!”

“Not yet, perhaps,” Carr retorted. “But Ryan McKenna has plans for this clan right enough, and he is most concerned that you might try to interfere with them, seeing as how you’re a Campbell with loyalty aplenty to those mewling brats you call kin!”

Maisie gasped and clutched her chest, running back into the house.

Dand’s eyes smoldered with rage as he stared Carr down. “You will stay away from my family and ride off at once.”

“Oh? Or what?” Carr crowed mockingly. “Unless you have a sword stowed up your fundament for emergencies such as these, lad, I’d not go making idle threats if I were you. And even were you armed, you are outnumbered three to one.”

“Two to one,” Maisie corrected him, emerging from the cottage with a large knife. “You will not take my child to a disease-ridden dungeon. I care not if there are a hundred of you!”

“Maisie. Put the knife down.”

The tone in Dand’s voice brought her up short, and she turned to look at him. His shoulders slumped, his eyes filled with quiet resignation.

“Surely you do not mean for us to allow ourselves to be taken in such a fashion?” she protested.

He nodded slowly. “He is correct. We cannot fight them, and I would rather risk the possibility that our child will fall ill in the dungeons than the certainty of her being put to the sword for our disobedience. We must go with them and accept our fate.”

Maisie’s face crumpled in sadness and horror, but she could tell from the expression on his face that he would brook no argument in this matter.

“A wise choice indeed,” Carr said. “Now, if you will be so kind as to climb onto the cart we have brought along, we will transport you to the castle at once. I will give you this one warning: If either of you attempt escape, both of you will lose a leg. And the child might too if you force us to chase you for long. Do I make myself understood?”

They nodded and brought their infant to the cart. Tears were streaming down Maisie’s face, while Dand’s pallor belied his stoicism.

It was a surreal feeling for both of them, being wheeled through the castle gates as prisoners with the eyes of everyone upon them. How many years had Maisie been a servant girl here? How many years had Dand spent playing in this courtyard as a young boy before the parents of the Campbell siblings had died?

They had fallen in love within these very walls.

Now they were trapped within them.

The guards in the dungeons could scarcely hide their expressions of surprise and discomfort at seeing the former laird of the clan and his wife led to a section of the dismal place with their infant.

“Unlike most of the prisoners kept here, the two of you will not be chained to the walls so that you may care for your child,” Carr announced, as though he was conveying the most magnanimous of favors upon them. “However, once more, I shall issue a warning which I do not intend to repeat: If you make trouble while you are down here, you will be shackled, and your baby can fend for itself against the rats in this place.”

Dand nodded miserably, and Carr took his leave.

Maisie immediately began to fuss over the baby. “Oh, if she falls ill from this, Dand, I do not know what I shall do!”

“This may sound passing strange,” Dand mused, “but it is entirely possible that where the plague is concerned, we might be safer here than we would be anywhere else in the castle. After all, there are few people down here, most of them spaced far apart, and there are not many comings and goings.”

“Even so, I was surprised to see you surrender to them without a fight,” she fretted.

“I meant what I said about our chances against them if we had resisted. Not only that, but we do not yet know what is afoot here or how we might best play our part in it. Our momentary cooperation has bought us time so that we may assess our situation and decide how we might aid my sister in what is clearly her time of greatest need.”

But as he spoke the words, even Dand was uncertain of whether he would be able to do anything to help Sorcha. He knew full well how thick these stone walls were and how impossible escape would be.

At least Freya and Aodh are far from here, according to what Sorcha told us, he thought to himself. Hopefully, the distance will keep them safe from all of this madness.

Meanwhile, Carr returned to the estate of Ryan McKenna and reported his mission a success. “Do you wish anything further of me at this time?” he simpered.

“Aye,” McKenna replied stonily. “Learn all you can of this Laird Nathan Fraser and the affairs of his clan. Surely there must be some hidden shame or weakness we might exploit to our advantage.”

“As you wish, sir,” Carr promised with a toothy grin.