by Barbara Bard
When Rebecca was out of the room, she pressed herself against the wall and gasped for breath. Never before had she been so scared. Doom hung about her, for she was afraid of what Lord Flynn would do to her. She hated the thought of being close to him, of having his cruel hands running over her innocent skin, of having those hungry lips brush against her body, of having his mind conjure images of his wife.
She would not be a vessel for the ghosts of his memories.
But in order to prevent that from happening, she had to leave as soon as possible.
The sun was beginning to set. A red streak slashed across the sky. It was as though someone had struck it with a sword and blood was now pouring out. Rebecca rushed to the dungeon to seek out Alastar. He was her only hope of escape, but she could not stay in this dank prison a moment longer.
Her feet pattered against the stone steps and she gasped for breath as she found him standing alone. A look of concern came upon her face, and she was swept away by the strong desire that flowed through her like a river.
When Lord Flynn had been standing before her, she'd found herself wishing that it had been Alastar. Her mind quickly flashed back to the moment when he had risen before her and their eyes had locked together. There was something about him that made arousal swim in her stomach. Never before had she felt anything like this. In truth, she wasn't sure what she was feeling, only that she wanted to be with Alastar, only that she knew he could keep her safe.
“We must leave,” she said in a rushed breath. He strode out of his cell and placed his hand upon her cheek, concern etched upon her face. Unlike the revulsion that had swept through her with Lord Flynn, there was nothing but warmth in her heart from Alastar's touch. Her heart opened, and a sense of serenity flowed through her.
Chapter 17
“Already?” Alastar asked.
Rebecca nodded vehemently.
“It cannot wait. We must leave now.”
“What happened?” Alastar wasn't going to leave without knowing what was going on. Rebecca was clearly troubled. Her cheeks were flushed, and she was still panting for breath. Alastar was so close that he could feel the powerful beating of her heart as well. Whatever had occurred had made her quite agitated.
“It's Lord Flynn. He...has made his intentions clear with me. It seems as though he has taken a liking to me. I fear that if I do not leave now, I will lose everything I hold dear,” she said in a scared tone.
Alastar felt a flash of jealousy rush through him. This wasn't the same as the anger he already held inside for Lord Flynn. This was something else entirely. Laying a hand upon a girl as lovely as Rebecca was a crime. Lord Flynn didn't deserve to have his claws in her. She should be saved for a good man, a kind man, one who could protect her and show her the world. Alastar only wished it could be him. She was far too pure and innocent to bear the weight of his shame and guilt. He had one quest in this world. There was no room for anything else, but he would not see her harmed or treated as another thing for Lord Flynn to corrupt and ruin.
“Then ye area correct. We must leave, but nae before I hae confronted him,” Alastar said with grim determination.
“Alastar, no, it's too dangerous. There are guards all around. We'll never make it out, and there's no telling that you'll beat him. We may both lose our lives if we stay.” She placed her hand on his chest. “Please, let us leave.”
Alastar breathed in deeply. For her sake he was inclined to listen to her, but he planned to leave her again and return to this estate once she was safe.
“Lead the way lass,” he said. She smiled with relief at his acceptance of her plan, although Alastar still held reservations.
The two of them emerged from the dungeons and walked through the gardens. They reached the entrance when Alastar spied a couple of guards approaching them. The sun had set completely now, and darkness enveloped the courtyard, broken only by the moonlight and strong lanterns that were peppered around. Alastar saw them approach, but he knew it unlikely that they would see him, for the garden had fewer lanterns.
“Stay back. They must not see you,” Rebecca said, and pushed Alastar deeper into the garden without a second thought. He staggered back. It pained him to have to hide when she was in such danger, but he found her bravery moving.
He watched as Rebecca stepped forward to greet them, and then grew angry as they pulled her away. Alastar had half a mind to leap up and strike at that moment, but he knew it would only raise the alarm and cause the rest of the guards to come pouring out.
He watched them escort her back into the house and slammed his fist against the ground. Bits of dirt leaped up in the air as he was at a loss for what to do now. The only choice that seemed to present itself to him was going on a rampage and fighting his way through the estate. There were hundreds of men though. The odds were not in his favor. The Blue Thistle could do a lot, but he could not to the impossible.
He skulked around the garden for a little while before he remembered George. The only other person he thought he could count on. He made his way to the stables. George wasn't alone. Alastar waited until George looked over and then gestured for him to approach. George made an excuse to his colleague and came over to Alastar.
“What are you doing here?” he said in a harsh whisper and seemed just about as angry as Rebecca had been.
“I am here tae kill Lord Flynn, but I fear Rebecca is in danger,” Alastar said.
“I knew you'd only bring trouble. Rebecca knows what to do in these situations. She will remain quiet and they won't do anything to her. You should leave if you want what's best for her. She doesn't deserve this trouble. None of us do. It's time to end this petty fighting,” George said sternly.
“It will end,” Alastar thought to himself as George walked away. There would be no help from that quarter. George evidently felt as though he had done enough in service of a greater good. Alastar couldn't blame him really. The man didn't know Alastar at all and owed him nothing. He seemed to think that Rebecca wasn't in serious danger. Perhaps she wasn't in mortal danger, but there were other kinds of threats.
He cast his gaze towards the house and envisioned a plan of action. He had no idea where Lord Flynn resided in the house, but if he found a place where he could scale the walls he would be able to bypass the lower levels, and in theory most of the guards.
The problem was finding such a place.
There were fewer people moving about at this hour, so he was likely to get more attention, but it also meant there were more shadows in which to hide. Alastar was making his way towards the house when a high-pitched voice called him to stop. His heart froze as he turned away but was relieved to see it was a young woman, who appeared to be about the same age as Rebecca. She had golden hair and striking features.
“There was a maid you were speaking with today, one who escorted you to the gardens. Do you remember her?”
Alastar nodded, being careful not to speak lest she raise the alarm. Alastar couldn't yet be sure of her sympathies.
“She's in danger. You must help her. I saw her being taken away by two guards. I fear that she has earned the wrath of Lord Flynn. Please, she is my only friend and I would be so upset if something were to happen to her.”
The girl seemed fretful, but of course Alastar was going to help. He nodded again, and she fell into step beside him.
“I imagine they've taken her to his chambers. We must be quick, to free her from him.”
As Alastar looked at this girl he caught a gleam in her eye and wasn't sure what it signified, but there was an urgency to her tone, and he would accept any aid offered. He was taken to an entrance around the back and was told where the door was.
“Go and rescue her,” the girl said. Alastar nodded once again.
He moved into the house and tracked his way upstairs, listening for any movements so that he wouldn't be found. He was disgusted at the huge house, and even more disgusted that Lord Flynn thought he could get away with anything he wanted. Alastar moved swiftly
through the house, his hand ready to draw his sword, ready to defend the fair maiden from her fate.
Chapter 18
Rebecca wished that she was clever enough to think of something that would ward off the guards, or at least strong enough to outfight them. She looked back at Alastar hiding in the darkness and was thankful that at least he had not been seen. There was still a chance for him to escape and warn his people.
The guards said nothing except that Lord Flynn wanted to see her. Rebecca's heart sank, sure that she would have to pay the price for her earlier rejection of his affections. She was escorted into the house, upstairs into his private chamber. The guards left her to stand by the door, and she was alone with Lord Flynn.
His room was large, and he filled it with his presence. The windows were open, moonlight pouring in. there were a few lanterns providing amber light. Lord Flynn smiled as she entered.
“It pleases me that you are here,” he said.
“I had no choice in the matter my Lord,” Rebecca said pointedly.
“Indeed, but none of us have a choice when fate calls. I have been thinking about what you said earlier, and I must apologize for my lack of manners. You are quite right in that your virtue is a precious thing, and I wish to cherish it. I have been taken with you since I first saw you, and I wish to make you my companion. You shall be my personal attendant, and never leave my side. I will deal with these Highlanders and then we can talk about the future. You are young enough that you could yet provide me with sons to secure my legacy. The failure of my previous children can be a thing of the past. After the war we shall be married, and you may reside here. You will know that your place is beside me, honoring and obeying me. You shall provide me with healthy children and soothe my loneliness.”
“Yes, my Lord,” Rebecca found herself saying. She wanted to fight against it, wanted to rant and rave and tell him that she would never give herself to him, but it was futile. Lord Flynn was the most powerful man in the region, and nobody could stand up to him.
“If that is all, my Lord?” she asked, hoping that she would at least be allowed to take her leave. Such a hope was not possible, however.
“When I said that you would never leave my side, I meant it,” Lord Flynn said. “You shall stay with me day and night. I shall have your belongings moved from your current chambers to this house. I will never be without your company.”
He spoke like a man possessed. He was possessed indeed, by desire, by the image of his wife. Rebecca could see no good fate for herself coming of this. Her future suddenly narrowed, and whatever life she imagined for herself faded, replaced with a nightmare.
“Do not worry girl, I will see that you are satisfied,” Lord Flynn said, reaching out to stroke her cheek. Rebecca flinched instinctively, and immediately regretted that she had.
“Never do that again,” he spat, his face clouding with anger. “You shall never insult me!”
“I'm sorry my Lord,” Rebecca stammered, trying to appear as meek as possible to placate him.
“I am tired of everyone close to me never doing as I say! My children failed me. You shall not,” he pointed a gnarled finger at her.
“Yes, my Lord.”
He moved closer to her and put his arm around her waist.
“Maybe I won't wait after all. There's no sense wasting any time if the future is ordained. I find myself unable to control my appetite,” he said. Rebecca suddenly felt alarm as she tried to escape from his grip but found herself unable. His arm was like a chain around her, and no matter how much she struggled she could not break free.
She pummeled him with her small fists, but they made no impact. Her fists were like raindrops striking against cold, hard brick. She shrieked and screamed for mercy, hoping that the guards would rush in, but they were obedient to Lord Flynn. Lord Flynn had everyone in his thrall, and there was no escape.
Her only hope was Alastar, but he was out in the gardens, and had likely fled by now.
Rebecca saw her life flash before her eyes and wondered how it had ever come to this. She prayed to God for salvation, and then tried to block out every sensation in her body as Lord Flynn tossed her onto the bed and pulled his loose night shirt over his head.
His body bore the scars of war, but it was still powerful. Muscles were etched into the hard flesh, and gray hair spread over his torso. There was a hungry look in his eyes, the look of a beast that had been denied food for decades.
Rebecca crawled to the head of the bed and clutched at one of the pillars, hot tears trickling down her cheeks.
They were disturbed by two thuds outside the door. Both looked towards the door and watched it open. When Alastar emerged, Rebecca's expression was one of delight, while Athelred scowled.
“You,” he spat.
“Aye, it's me,” Alastar said, wielding his sword. From her vantage point, Rebecca could see the two guards slumped outside the door. Alastar kicked the door shut. He circled the room and held his sword in front of him, the tip pointed straight at Athelred.
Athelred backed away and lowered himself, reaching under the bed. He brought out a sword of his own.
“Did you think I would be unarmed?” he asked.
“Nay, ye always hae a trick up ye sleeve,” Alastar remarked. He glanced at Rebecca, who was too frightened to do anything. She clung to the post of the bed tightly and hoped that Alastar would be able to best Lord Flynn.
The men approached each other. Lord Flynn bare-chested, Alastar with his cloak swaying around him.
For all his denigrating comments about the Highlanders, in this moment it was Lord Flynn who looked more the savage.
Steel clashed, and the scraping song filled the room. Rebecca found herself wincing, but she could not look away. They parried and thrust, danced lightly on their feet, and their swords moved faster than the eye could see. Both were skilled men, and the outcome would be uncertain.
“I see that years of imprisonment haven't dulled your skills,” Athelred said.
“And ye elderly years have nae caught up with ye yet,” Alastar retorted. Another flurry of strikes followed, both men testing each other.
“You're a pale shadow of your father. I bested him, and I shall have no trouble doing the same with you,” Athelred said. At the mention of his father, Alastar flew into a rage and roared. He battered Athelred with his sword, pushing the older man back. Rebecca was certain that Athelred's sword would snap under the pressure of Alastar's blows.
But Athelred was coy. As he was pushed down under Alastar's force he kicked out, finding Alastar's knee. Alastar cried out in pain and staggered back. Athelred took advantage and rose with fury, finding the vigor of his youth as he slashed out at Alastar. Alastar deftly parried the blows and soon had his footing again. He and Athelred continued the fight. Athelred's body glistened with sweat, but he was able to hold his own against the younger man.
“It is time for ye tae pay for what ye hae done,” Alastar said.
“For me? What about you? Your father cost me the chance to say goodbye to my wife. And now you come to attack me? After all these years I thought some sense would have come into your mind. You can't win Alastar.”
“Don't call me that. I am nae Alastar. I am the Blue Thistle, and ye would dae well tae remember that.”
With those words, Alastar moved forward with determination. As Rebecca watched him in full motion her fear dissipated. He was like a hero, a mythical figure. He transformed before her eyes and made her feel whole. The sword seemed like an extension of his body. It blurred as he moved so quickly, and she was certain that he could not lose. A smile spread across her face as her heart beat frantically, for she was so enamored with the way he moved. He was a swashbuckling hero, and he had won her heart.
Even Lord Flynn seemed to know that he was outmatched. Alastar was vigorous and strong. Although he had been locked in a dungeon for many years, he had honed his strength. His body was lithe and sinuous. It had been forged for one single purpose since he was a chi
ld. And what's more, he seemed to be enjoying it. He batted Lord Flynn back, and it was surely now only a matter of time.
Indeed, Alastar showed no mercy in his vicious blows. Steel clanged against steel, but Lord Flynn was forced to the floor. He held his sword up over his body with both hands, struggling to brace himself against the onslaught of the Blue Thistle's blows. Alastar's face was a picture of anger. All the rage that had been simmering in the pit of his stomach was unleashed in a burst of vibrant fury.
Lord Flynn was entering his final moments. The bed shook as he fell against it. Rebecca stood upright, afraid that she would get wounded by the flashing blades by mistake. Alastar was too skilled for that though. With a deft flick of the wrist he ran his sword along the blade of Lord Flynn's and disarmed him. The sword clattered against the floor, thrown across the other side of the room. Lord Flynn groaned, clutching his wrist.