Highlander's Revenge (Highlanders 0f The McCall Clan Book 3)

by Barbara Bard

  In all this time she had been thinking about Catherine and Declan a great deal but had not spared much thought for the other prisoner. She hoped that he was well too, for after spending so much time imprisoned it would be very difficult for him to reintegrate himself into the world.

  She wondered if he had a family somewhere, or a wife to return to. He would most likely not give her a second thought, and she doubted if she would ever see or hear of him again. She was alone in her sorrow and her suffering, and now she had to decide what to do.

  She could, of course, return to Ellen and tell her that the prisoner said nothing, and hope that nobody would ever venture down into the dungeon to investigate. That seemed like wishful thinking though. Somebody would surely come down here and see that it was empty. If she did not tell the truth, then suspicion would fall upon her.

  Swallowing hard, she walked back up the stairs, taking the tray with her, and left the dungeon. There, she stayed for a few moments as she worked up the courage to declare her discovery and to make the lie even deeper.

  “Help!” she cried. “Help! The prisoner has escaped!”

  There were enough people around that eventually someone heard her call and they came to her. She explained her situation, and they told her to go straight to Ellen, while they notified the guards. Rebecca rushed back to the kitchen with flushed cheeks, embarrassed that it was so easy to fool people. Nobody expected her to lie. She was just a simple servant after all. Nobody would expect her of being a part of a grand conspiracy.

  Elayne saw her enter and rushed up to her.

  “What's going on Rebecca? I heard that someone else has escaped,” Elayne asked.

  “I can't talk about it now. I have to get to Ellen,” Rebecca said. She forced her way through the kitchen, leaving many confused and perplexed people behind, and breathed a sigh of relief. The fewer people she had to talk to, the better, as far as she was concerned.

  Ellen was in her office in the house, with a huge parchment in front of her, upon which Ellen was noting various figures. Rebecca stood in the doorway, then knocked lightly as her presence failed to get Ellen's attention.

  “Is everything well?” Ellen asked, barely raising her gaze from her work. Her tone was abrupt, and she seemed annoyed that she had been interrupted.

  “I'm afraid that the prisoner has escaped,” Rebecca said meekly.

  “What?” Ellen said. This time her eyes lifted, and she placed her quill on the table.

  “I went down like you said, to ask him some questions, but he wasn’t there. I checked, I really did, but the chamber is empty.”

  “They must have freed him as well. I wonder if they know...,” Ellen said, frowning. Rebecca wondered if she should stay or if she should return to her duties. She hoped that now this matter had been revealed she would be able to forget about being discovered. Her part in this was done. After Ellen had failed to speak for a few minutes Rebecca decided to speak.

  “If that's all ma'am, I'll be returning to my duties,” she said, and began to withdraw.

  “Oh no my dear, you must come with me to see Lord Athelred. He will want to hear what you have to say,” she said.

  Rebecca paled once again. This was incomprehensible. She didn't know what she had done to deserve such a fate but speaking with Lord Flynn was dire. He would surely see through her lies, and she would be punished. Stammering, she tried to think of a way to free herself of the situation, but she could not think of any. Ellen was soon standing beside her, ordering her to follow. Rebecca had no choice but to do as she was told, wondering when she was going to be free of this wretched situation.

  Chapter 9

  The moon hung high in the sky, like a silver lantern, accompanied by twinkling pinpricks of stars. For so long Alastar had only been able to stare at cold, harsh rock. He was amazed at the beauty and majesty of all that lay before him.

  Unable to sleep, he had ventured outside and was sitting on a log. The night was still, and the inn beside him was dark. The road was framed by a forest, but there were no sounds of anyone about. His sword rested on his knees. Animals slept soundly at the front of the house. Then, he heard a rustling. His instincts told him that it was an enemy, perhaps Charlie, returning to finish what he had started.

  Alastar's fingers crept down his leg to the hilt of the sword. Just as he was about to swing it he heard a cough and knew it to be too high to be the cough of a man. He looked around and saw Stephen standing there, this time without his dog. He wore a loose tunic. His hair was unkempt. He should have been sleeping, but Alastar could forgive him for not being able to get any rest. Alastar smiled at him, then sidled up the log, making room. He gestured for Stephen to join him.

  “Cannae sleep?” Alastar asked. Stephen shook his head. “Ye were brave taenight. How was Penny?”

  “She was fine. I think she was scared. Men always look at her like that. They are never nice to her,” Stephen replied.

  “But you are.”

  “Not that she cares that much. She thinks I'm just a boy.”

  “Aye, but one day she will see ye as a man.”

  Stephen merely pouted, indicating that that day could not come soon enough. Alastar smiled a little, remembering a time when he had been like Stephen. Stephen swung his legs back and forth, his gaze kept darting towards the sword.

  “Would ye like tae handle it?” he asked. Stephen licked his lips. The moonlight caught an excited gleam in his eye, but he was hesitant. “I will nae tell ye ma,” he added. This was all the guarantee Stephen needed. He reached out his hands. Alastar picked up the sword and slid it across Stephen's legs, making sure that the blade was flat.

  Stephen expressed his surprise and delight as he curled his hands around the sword. He tried to lift it himself, but the weight was too much. He looked at Alastar with wide eyes, almost wondering how strong he must be to carry a weapon like this.

  “Heavy, isnae it?”

  Stephen nodded.

  “The heaviest thing about this weapon is what it can dae tae a man. When ye hold this, ye hold the power over life and death, and ye hae tae be careful with how ye use it.”

  Stephen nodded along, although Alastar wasn't sure if he understood yet. Alastar himself hadn't understood when he was that age, and his father had been trying to teach him.

  “Are you going to stay?” Stephen asked, his voice filled with hope. Alastar leaned forward and exhaled deeply.

  “I wish I could Stephen, but I’m needed elsewhere.”

  “Ma needs you here. She's been so sad since Pa left. I wouldn't mind you know, if you wanted to stay. I know you wouldn't be my Pa or anything, but it would be nice.”

  “Aye, that it would,” Alastar said, ruffling the kid's hair, “but I hae things tae dae.”

  “What kind of things?”

  Alastar pressed his lips together, unsure of how much he should tell the boy.

  “A long time ago there was a man who did nae like me or my Da. We suffered at his hands, and I hae tae make things right. He also hae something of mine.”

  “What?”

  “My father's sword,” Alastar replied. “I hae tae get it back. It is the only thing I have of him.”

  “I don't have much of father either,” Stephen said. “Do you miss yours? I miss mine. Sometimes I expect to see him coming over the hill, saying that it's all been a mistake, but Ma says that I'm being silly.”

  “It's always good tae dream, but dinnae let it interfere with ye life. Ye Da sounds like a good man. I'm sure ye will make him proud one day.”

  “I hope so. I want to take care of Ma, but I feel so weak and small. Pa told me before I left that I had to look after the inn, but how can I when nobody takes me seriously?”

  “Oh, they will. I will teach ye a few things,” Alastar said, “but dinnae tell ye Ma,” he added with a wink.

  In the moonlight Alastar taught Stephen a few simple moves to help him in a fight. His mind went back to a time when he had been young, when he had been up in the
moonlight and his own father had taught him how to defend himself. Stephen was a much better student than he had ever been though.

  “Dae ye believe in heroes Stephen?” he asked.

  Stephen nodded.

  “Well then, ye will be alright, because if ye believe in heroes then they will come tae ye aid when ye need them.”

  “What if I want to become a hero?” Stephen asked.

  Alastar's eyes sparkled with pride. He placed a hand on Stephan's shoulder.

  “From what I saw taeday, ye already are. It takes a brave person tae stand up tae a man like Charlie,” he said. Stephan beamed, a wide smile appearing on his face.

  “Do you really think so?”

  “Oh aye, there is nae doubt in my mind. Now gae along and get ye tae bed. Ye ma already has plenty tae worry about without ye being up all night. Tell her I said goodbye, and ye make sure ye take care of her, just as she's taken care of ye.”

  “I will Alastar,” Stephen said. He chewed his bottom lip for a moment, as though considering something, and then ran forward, wrapping his arms around Alastar's waist. Alastar grunted a little, surprised at the force of the young boy's embrace, but it was the embrace of pain. Stephen had lost a father, but his grief made him strong. He would be a good man, one who protected the innocents, and Mabel could be proud of that.

  Alastar patted the boy's head and carefully extricated himself. There were tears in Stephen's eyes. They glistened in the moonlight. In truth, Alastar was filled with sorrow as well. This was a cozy, homely place. It was somewhere a man could put down roots and live a life of peace, away from the rest of the world. There were fields to plow, animals to tend to, and a sturdy building to be a home. But that was the life waiting for another man. Alastar had no doubt that a traveler would come here one day, fall in love with Mabel and become a father to Stephen, but that day was not today.

  He had other business.

  Wrapping his cloak about his body, Alastar turned his back on Stephen and walked away. Stephen called out to him, but Alastar did not respond. He had a little coin left in his cloak, and he hoped that would be enough to get him to where he needed to go.

  Chapter 10

  Rebecca followed Ellen's path towards the house heart beating frantically.

  “Are you sure this is necessary? I am not sure I will be able to tell Lord Athelred anything of use,” Rebecca stammered.

  “Don't be silly girl. He wants to know everything he can. You may not realize it, but even the smallest bit of information could prove useful,” Ellen replied, without turning her head.

  Rebecca looked frantically at the walls as they passed by, wishing there was some secret path she could take out. It was one thing to lie to the serving staff, but quite another to face the intimidating Lord Flynn. Her anxiety flooded through her body and she dearly wished that she was somebody else.

  There was little time to be worried though, as the two of them walked briskly to Lord Athelred, who was sitting in the great hall upon his throne. Candles and lanterns hung in the hall, creating a stifling warmth. Rebecca could already feel the sweat trickling down her spine.

  Keeping her head bowed, she followed Ellen up to the dais. Glancing up quickly, she looked at Athelred, and her breath caught in her throat.

  The man was sitting upon his throne wearing a golden cloak, which resembled a man. A thin crown sat upon his head. From what Rebecca understood, these weren't necessities for people of Lord Flynn's stature, but they were allowed to wear them, as long as they were not ostentatious enough to compete with the opulence of the King's crown.

  Lord Athelred's crown was a thin band of metal that rested upon his white hair. Cruel, inscrutable eyes peered forward. They were as black of night and seemed even more threatening when set against the paleness of his skin. He was a lithe man. Unlike others of his stature he was not prone to indulgence. Rings sat upon his slender fingers, and he leaned forward slightly, as though he was ready to pounce at any moment.

  “My Lord,” Ellen said, offering a curtsy. Rebecca followed her lead after a moment, almost forgetting her place because she was so intimidated.

  “Have you any news for me?” Athelred said. His words were terse. His fingers tapped against the arm of the throne.

  “I have brought this maid. She tended to the prisoner, taking him food and drink regularly. She was the one who discovered that he was missing. It appears that Lady Catherine may have freed him as well as the other one,” Ellen said, slowing her speech, being more careful with her words.

  Lord Flynn breathed heavily. The hand that had been tapping against the throne clenched into a fist at the mention of his daughter.

  “Leave us,” Athelred said. Ellen bowed her head once again and turned away. Her footsteps receded into the distance, and she closed the great double doors behind her. Rebecca looked at Ellen with panic her eyes, but she could say nothing. She kept her gaze locked to the ground. It was just her and Lord Flynn in the great hall. For a few moments there was nothing but silence, a deafening, suffocating silence, then Lord Athelred spoke.

  “Well?” he asked. He spoke softly, but because the chamber was empty his words reverberated around the hall, given them more strength. Rebecca almost jumped; she was so startled.

  “I...I am not sure what I can tell you my Lord,” she said.

  “Ellen must have believed you could tell me something, otherwise she would not have brought you to me,” he said in his commanding tone.

  “It is just as she said my Lord, I went to the dungeon today to give the prisoner a meal, but he was gone.”

  “And there was no sign of how he had escaped?”

  “None my Lord, but perhaps he escaped by other methods. It may not have been your daughter who was responsible.”

  “Did you know my daughter?”

  “No, my Lord,” Rebecca replied quickly, too quickly perhaps. “That is to say, I of course knew of her, and I met her briefly when she was talking with the prisoner, but other than that we did not speak. She struck me as a good person though,” she added, thinking that she should praise Lord Flynn's family to try and make a good impression.

  “Good is a rather subjective term. She has always been trouble, and sadly she has developed a mind of her own. I do not know where she got these ideas from, but she has brought shame upon this house.”

  “You do not believe she is a victim my Lord?”

  Athelred hung his head back and a sharp laugh burst from his chest, like the crack of a whip.

  “It doesn't matter if she is a victim or not. She has brought shame, and she will be punished.”

  “Yes, my Lord,” Rebecca said. She had her own thoughts on the matter but was not going to reveal them to Lord Flynn. Rebecca began to breathe a little easier, but she was extremely aware that any wrong move could bring the wrath of Lord Flynn down upon her. She only hoped that the questioning would soon be over, and she would be allowed to return to her duties, and her anonymity.

  “What do you know of the prisoner, the one who you only found had escaped this morning?” he asked.

  “I know little my Lord. I only brought him meals. I did not engage him in conversation.”

  “How wise and prudent of you. How I wish my daughter took a leaf out of your book. Perhaps then her head would not have been turned...” he said, trailing off. He snapped back his attention to Rebecca and continued speaking.

  “He is a dangerous man, an enemy of the state, and it is a great threat to us that he has been freed.” He sighed and rubbed his forehead. “My daughter is more of a fool than I thought she was if she released that man too. She has no idea what she has done.”

  “I am sure she only did what she thought was right,” Rebecca said, in what she thought was a diplomatic way, but Athelred stepped off his throne.

  “You are not here to think. You are here to tell me what you know,” he snapped. Rebecca jumped back, shaking with fear. “Do not remain under the impression that my daughter is a virtuous cherub. She has proven hers
elf to either be a conniving harlot, or an imbecile, and when she returns, I will find out exactly what happened, and anyone else who was involved shall all be hanged,” he roared.

  “Yes, my Lord,” Rebecca stammered, clasping her hands behind her back so that he could not see them trembling. Athelred sank back into this throne and gave another weary sigh.

  “I suppose you might as well go if you know nothing else,” he said, waving his hand dismissively.

  Rebecca turned and breathed a sigh of relief that she was able to return to her duties and forget all this sordid business, although she was worried for Catherine's sake. It didn't seem as though Athelred had any sympathy for her daughter and seemed to hold her responsible no matter what had happened. All at once Rebecca had even more sympathy for Catherine and found herself hoping that she and Declan had made their escape.