“Ginny! What are ye doing?” a woman yelled as she frantically ran around the cluster of trees. Seeing the little girl in Ella’s embrace, the woman ripped the child from Ella’s arms. “Who are ye, and what are ye doing wit’ my child?” the woman demanded.
Startled, Ella froze. The expression in the woman’s eyes was like a wolf protecting her young, though Ella would never have harmed the child. The best course of action in this instance would be to remove herself from the situation before the others became aware of her presence. She would just have to find warmth and shelter elsewhere.
Ella opened her mouth and moved her lips to speak but no words came out. Clearing her throat, she tried again but still nothing. Instinctively, Ella placed her hands on her throat. My voice! Why can I not speak? Trying to speak again was yet another failed attempt. Ella quickly became distressed, nervously pacing back and forth. I don’t understand.
Was this her punishment for crossing into this forbidden world? Was this what Baudi was trying to warn her about? Without her voice, how could she tell this woman that she meant no harm to the child? It did not take long for Ella to realize how grave a mistake coming here was. With no voice, no weapons and no magic, she was completely vulnerable.
Ella could tell that her actions were starting to frighten the women though she could care less.
“Stay back! Help! Help!” the woman frantically yelled out, clutching her daughter tighter in her arms.
Before Ella had time to run, three men came running from their tents circling around her.
“Are ye alright, Mairi? What is it?” a man asked as he stood in between Ella and the woman.
His raven black hair, slick with sweat, hung like wet moss off a dead tree branch. A long, grotesque scar marked the right side of his face.
“This woman! She tried to take my daughter.”
Ella shot a wicked look at the woman for her blatant accusation. She would never have hurt or taken the child, but the way the men looked at her told her that they would never have believed her. Like hunters circling their prey, their eyes watched her every move.
The look in their eyes and snarls on their faces caused Ella’s stomach to turn as she drew a shaky breath. These men meant her harm.
“Take the wee lassie back to the tent, Mairi. We will handle this.” Before questioning Ella, he waited for the woman and child to leave. “Is what she said true? Were ye trying to take the child?”
Knowing she could not answer, Ella continued to stare, her eyes falling upon each man. She wondered at her ability to understand what they were saying. She was fairly certain they were not of the Fae. Was it possible that the Fae could understand any species but could only speak their own language? Could this be the reason she was mute?
“I demand ye to tell me who ye are,” he demanded again, more loudly this time.
Ella could feel the beat of her heart pounding harder against her rib cage. Her breathing became labored and her body tense. It was as if time had simply slowed. Even though, the sound was faint and muffled, as if someone had covered her ears, she could hear her assailant’s hoarse, heaving breath, and from above, the humming sound of feathers flicking up and down as birds swarmed the skies.
Ella’s only hope was to escape. Even if the cold snowy air killed her, she would run until she could run no further.
“Refusing to tell me who ye are matters not, Lassie. We crossed Graham’s land o’er an hour ago. If ye are trying to protect yer Laird than ye are as foolish as he is. If Graham had any sense, he would no’ be sending women out to do a man’s job. Why dinna ye tell us the truth? Ye were sent out here to spy on us, aye? Well, ye can tell that whoreson that we will never surrender to the likes of him.”
“Jamison, ye dinna mean to just let the lass go, do ye?” another man whispered.
“Of course no’, ye fool,” he responded before turning his attention back to Ella. “First, I am going to take from ye what Graham took from me. I am sure e’en a Graham lass knows how to warm a man’s bed.”
His men laughed at his statement. Licking their lips like vicious dogs, the three of them paced circles around her. Ella’s head whipped from side to side as she took short apprehensive steps away from them.
“Awe, come on lassie. Ye may e’en enjoy it.”
“I’ll take a go at her,” one volunteered.
Though Ella had no idea as to what he was referring, nor who this Graham was, she was not going to stand there and find out. Ella decided to do the only thing she knew to avoid being captured by these men; run.
Pivoting her toes on the hard frozen ground, Ella darted off toward the woods as the men gave chase. Thankful for the light of the moon, Ella dodged past trees and shrubs hoping to lose her pursuers. But no matter how fast she ran, they were quickly closing in on her.
Ella had to will her feet to keep moving faster. With panic flowing through her like water through a sieve, it was hard to concentrate on where she was going. Every tree she passed looked the same, as if she were running in circles. Though her body felt the intensely cold air, it was as if her body was nothing more than a mere shell, void of all emotion and sense. As if she watched a dream playing out before her eyes. But in this dream, death was a reality. As she gasped for breath, her lungs burned. To her surprise, Ella stumbled upon a tall dark building. Hoping to hide inside, she slipped through the door.
Quickly surveying the open space, she hesitated. To her horror, Ella’s heart felt as if it briefly stopped beating. Knives, swords and axes hung down from the rafters, and hammers, scraps of metal, and blades lay upon a work bench. The sight made her woozy and disorientated, but she quickly regained her wits when she heard the door handle jiggle. Ducking underneath the table, she hid behind a tattered cloth that smelled of smoke and ash as the three men entered the building.
Ella placed her hand over her mouth to quiet her heavy breathing. Squeezing her eyes shut, she flinched and cringed at every sound she heard. They were getting close. Her hands began to tremble. She was trapped like a mouse. In the darkness, she could barely make out the three pairs of legs wandering about the room searching for her. Ella searched for a way to escape.
As the three men moved to the far end of the room, she saw a small door in the back of the building. Ella quietly crawled low to the ground. But as she pressed her hand upon the door, a forceful grip grabbed onto her ankle and dragged her away from it. A sharp pain shot up her leg as her assailant twisted her ankle forcefully. Ella let out a loud agonizing groan. Before she knew it, she was pinned to the ground with the scarred man hovering over top of her. Ella moved her head to one side to breath. She was face down, being pressed into the dirt floor as the grotesque man lay on top of her, pressing his groin into her backside.
Ella searched for her dagger, but the man disarmed her before she even touched the blade. Grabbing a fist full of hair from the back of her head, he exposed her neck as if she were a swine being tied up for slaughter. Ella struggled beneath him, but he was twice her size. Trying desperately to scream, Ella lost hope.
With his free hand, the man wrapped his arm around her front and quickly started to unlace the ties of the fox covering that hung above her bosom. Once loose, he ripped it off her shoulders and tore the top of her dress so her left shoulder was exposed. Greedily, he groped his hand over her breast and began kissing the back of her neck, though Ella did all she could to stop him.
“Oh, I am going to take my time wit’ ye,” he whispered in her ear.
Kicking furiously, Ella heard the man call out to another to hold her down while the third stood back and watched. Their laughter echoed all around her. Rough, calloused hands fell upon her ankles, preventing her from moving. Hot tears burned in Ella’s eyes as the man squeezed her injured ankle. Ella balled her fists, trying to bear the pain radiating up her leg. She squeezed her hand so tight, her fingernails dug into her flesh.
Before Ella had time to react, the man flipped her underneath him, laying her flat on her back. One strong
hand held her wrists above her head, while with the other he began loosening his trews. Once loose, he flipped the skirt of her dress up over her head. In the darkness, she could feel his filthy hands on her, running up her thigh.
Ella forcefully bucked her hips like a wild mare causing the man to flip off of her. In the mere seconds she had to act, Ella crawled away from him. Standing tall, the man stalked toward her. Ella scooted as far back as she could, until her back was up against the wall. Bending down to one knee, the man smirked at her failed attempt to escape. Raising his hand, he slapped Ella across the side of her cheek with the back of his hand. Ella heard the crack echo in her ears. Whether it was his knuckle against her cheek bone or the bone breaking itself, the pain was unbearable. Overwhelmed with pain, everything became blurry. Colors faded to black, and then to nothingness.
~ Chapter 7 ~
With his sword in hand, Galen followed the light to an outbuilding on the outer rim of the castle wall. The building was used as the armory. Blades of all kinds as well as sheet metal and iron were stored there. As he approached, he saw a dull red and green tartan flash across the open window.
“McGregor,” Galen muttered under his breath.
Continuing his approach, Galen surveyed his surroundings, making sure no one else was around to ambush him. With a swift kick, the door opened catching the intruders off guard.
“Who the bloody hell are ye, and what do ye think ye are doing on my land?” Galen yelled, his deep, strident voice rebounding from the walls.
At first glance, Galen saw only three men within the room. Two of them stood across the room, while the third was hunkered down upon the floor. The man on the floor slowly climbed to his knees. Beneath him, Galen saw a lass lying unconscious.
“This lass tried to kidnap a child. I am simply teaching her a lesson,” the man said.
“I am Laird of Dunquest Castle. Ye are on my lands, and anything within my boundary is under my protection. I suggest ye get off my lands and return to the black pit from whence ye came before I turn your wives into widows this night.”
“Oh, well, my Laird, please forgive me. Had I known this was yer barren wasteland I would have turned a cheek,” the man sarcastically replied, as his men burst into laughter.
Galen raised his claymore into the air before the assailants had time to pull their weapons out of their scabbards.
“Unless ye wish to die tonight, I would consider yer next move carefully.”
With a sly, twisted smile, the man glanced over to his men.
“It’s time to go, laddies! Let him have the whore.” Turning his attention to Galen, he continued, “Ye will regret the day ye crossed us, Laird Graham.”
“I am a mon of little regret.”
All three men slowly backed out of the building and vanished into the shadows of the surrounding woods. Galen took a cautious step toward the injured lass. As he approached her, he fell down to one knee. She did not move or flinch upon his approach. Gently, he placed the back of his hand against her cheek. She was unconscious. Her skin was cold as ice, but she was still alive. With barely enough light to see, Galen was unable to assess any wounds that may have been inflicted. Lifting her into the air, he carried her outside to his horse. As he held the featherweight lass in his arms, she smelled of sage and pine. Galen thought it was an odd, woodsy smell for a woman. As gently as he could, he mounted, still holding the lass tight in his arms. As fast as his horse could ride without jostling the lass, he rode to Evelyn’s cottage.
Hastily opening the door, Evelyn swiftly moved out of the way as Galen walked in, the lass wrapped up in his arms.
“What happened? Who is that?” Evelyn asked, as she quickly ran toward the bedroom and lowered the covers on the bed for him to place her on the mattress.
Evelyn left for a moment, then rushed back, with a basin of water and a cloth and immediately wiped the blood off Ella’s face and neck.
“Dear God, what happened to her?” she asked, as she brushed her hair to the side, exposing a fist-sized red bruise along her cheek.
“Warrick, there are three McGregor men on our land a mile north of here. Gather some men from the village and follow them. If they cause ye any trouble, kill them,” he ordered.
“Aye, my Laird. Right away.”
Evelyn tucked the covers around the girl and placed her arms against her sides. Evelyn looked at her hands in horror.
“Her hands!” Evelyn shrieked, as she twisted the lass’s palms toward Galen.
Her palms were marred, the skin torn, and the shredded flesh was covered with blood. Galen balled his fist and realized that the lass had squeezed her hands so tight that her nails dug deep into her skin, causing them to bleed. The only thing that would have made the lass do that to herself would have been complete terror. As quick as a flint striking iron, anger sparked inside of him.
“She was attacked,” he muttered.
“Who would have done such a thing?”
“McGregor clansmen.”
Galen didn’t know which made him angrier, the fact that McGregor’s clansmen would harm a lass in such a violent manner, or the fact that they had crossed onto his land without his knowledge, an issue he would rectify as soon as possible.
“Poor lass! Why do ye suppose she was out there all alone?” Evelyn whispered, as she dampened the cloth once again.
“I dinna know.”
“Well whoever she is, these marks are going to leave some pretty nasty bruises. Hand me those vials.”
Galen reached for the vials his cousin had pointed to and handed them to her. While Evelyn ministered to Ella’s wounds, Galen looked down at the wee lass. Small freckles covered the bridge of her nose, and her skin and lips were beyond pale, matching her snow white hair. Even near death she was beautiful, like a snow angel from a children’s fable. But the troubling question remained. Why was such a young lass out in the woods alone, and where did she come from?
“I need to undress her to finish cleaning her off. When she wakes I will let ye know.”
“Alright, but as soon as she wakes,” he ordered.
For a short time, Galen paced the floor, hoping the lass would gain consciousness soon. But he needed to return to Dunquest to send his guards to the west to make certain no more unwanted visitors arrived.
If members of the McGregor’s clan had easily breached the borders, perhaps their army was not far behind. The men the lass came upon could have been scouts sent to see how well the borders were protected. Perhaps she was just in the wrong place at the wrong time. With slight trepidation, Galen left the cottage. The hard-frozen snow crunched underneath his feet as the wind furiously tossed his hair back and forth. Mounting his horse, he raced back to the castle to alert his men.
~ ♥ ~
Ella stirred in her sleep. She felt tightly swaddled with some form of soft cloth. It was strangely comforting. With her eyes still tightly shut, she could smell wood burning and hear a crackling fire as it sparked and popped. With her hands resting on her stomach, she could feel hunger pangs and hear it rumbling. As her senses became more aroused, she was able to tell by the warmth of her surroundings that she was no longer outside in the bitter cold. Fully awake, Ella’s eyes popped open. For a brief moment, she thought she had returned home, as if it was all a dream, but this room was far different than anything she had ever seen.
Slowly, her eyes adjusted to the soft candlelight coming from the bedside table, and she stared for a moment at the wooden ceiling above her. The flickering candle created shadow dancers along the ceiling and walls. Several uneven vertical rafters made of splinted wood and rusty nails held the ceiling and walls in place. The walls themselves were made of mud and stone, giving the room an earthy smell. Pulling herself to a sitting position, she sat up and looked about the room.
The moment Ella sat up she felt it hard to keep her balance. Blood rushed to her head, and her vision was slightly blurry. She raised her hand to her cheek; it was sore to the touch, and caused her head to a
che. Ella soon discovered that she was not tied in rope or irons as she had expected. Instead, her hands were bound in bandages. Someone had dressed her wounds. Strips of cloth were tied tightly around her palms, and dried blood had stained the fabric.
The last thing Ella could remember was the man who forced himself on top of her. But instead of a dungeon or a cold, dirty floor, Ella found herself in a warm, comfy bed in a room that appeared quite pleasant.
Goosebumps covered her flesh as a tattered cloth hanging at the window flapped and a slight breeze crossed the room. The cool chill caused Ella’s nipples to harden. Looking down at her chest, she felt mortified as she realized her dress had been removed and she was left in nothing but a thin nightshift as sheer as a spider’s web. As fast as a bolt of lightning, she pulled the covers up over her chest. Ella cringed at the thought of someone stealing her clothes and leaving her half-naked.
All manner of emotions coursed through her; anger, humiliation, frustration, and regret, but when the door to the room suddenly swung open, all thoughts seized. Stepping into the room was a woman with long copper-colored hair and a thin form. Wearing a dull blue kirtle, she had an apron tied around her waist. The woman began humming a sweet lullaby as she dumped a bucket of steaming water into a basin and added another log on the fire. Holding her body as still as a statue, Ella’s eyes followed the woman’s movement.
As the woman finished tending the fire, she stood and turned towards Ella.
With a gasp, the woman joyfully remarked, “Yer awake!”
Ella pulled her knees up into her chest and held the top of the covers tightly in her hands. The pain from her ankle was numbed by fear. This woman was human, and Ella had no doubt she would probably do the same to her as the others.
Legend of the Fae: A Highland Fantasy (The Dark Fae Saga Book 1) Page 5