by Gwyn Brodie
Several hours passed, and frustration set in, when he rode into the clearing. He dismounted and picked up a coal from the fire. Cold. He threw it on the ground. While he'd been on foot, Monro's guards had managed to get a good distance ahead. He'd never catch up, if he continued to follow them. What he needed was a way of cutting them off, and if he crossed the mountain, instead of following the path, he could, but was uncertain as to what to expect, since he'd never done so.
Duncan blew out a long breath. No matter. He had to find Kila—one way or another.
AFTER THEY BROKE CAMP the following morning, Kila had practically begged Dubh to allow her to ride with someone else, but he had adamantly refused her request—and she knew why. As soon as she shoved one hand away, the other was groping at another part of her body, treating her as if she were naught but a common whore. Tears welled up in her eyes and ran down her cheeks, but she quickly wiped them away. She wasn't about to allow the bastard to see her cry.
Willie rode up beside them. "Dubh, ye'd do well to remember the lady is soon to be the wife of our laird. What would Laird Monro say if he knew how ye were treating the lass?"
"Ye'd best keep that trap of yer's shut, if ye ken what's good fer ye," Dubh roared, causing the other men to take notice.
"Then allow her to ride with me."
He cursed beneath his breath. "Take her, then, and be quick about it."
Willie dismounted and helped Kila down, then lifted her onto his own horse. He swung up behind her and fell back several feet behind Dubh. "I assure ye, m'lady, all the Monros are no' like Dubh." He seemed a good man, who was but following the orders of his laird.
She smiled. "I'm most glad to hear so." The night before, she'd been unable to slip away, as Dubh has ended up bedding down only a foot or so away. But tonight, she had no choice. She had to escape and find Duncan. Kila prayed he still lived, and if he was dead—she had to know that as well. Tears filled her eyes at such a horrifying thought.
As the men set up camp for a second night since taking her, Kila realized Willie had been true to his word. He was naught like Dubh. Not once had he touched her inappropriately, but she had felt Dubh's lustful eyes on her often, and it had made her ill at ease.
While Willie got a fire going, another guard left, returning with two large hares, which were soon roasting over the fire.
As Kila ate the portion Willie brought her, she thought of the hare she and Duncan had eaten inside the cave, and her throat tightened. She missed his smile, his touch, his contagious laughter, the twinkle in his brown eyes. If she allowed herself, she would cry until she could cry no more, but she had to keep her wits about her—if she wished to escape Monro's guards.
ONCE HE REACHED THE mountain top, Duncan dismounted and left Tearlach to graze, while he scanned the countryside for any sign of Monro's men. The long shadows of gloaming lengthened by the minute, and he prayed he'd find Kila before nightfall. He didn't relish spending another night not knowing where she was—or whether or not she was safe.
A whiff of smoke reached his nose, and he searched for its source. There were no houses or crofter's huts about, both places where there was sure to be a fire. Duncan mounted, then slowly made his way down the mountainside, all the while keeping to the tree line. The scent of smoke grew stronger, and in the growing darkness, he thought he saw the twinkle of firelight.
He dismounted, left Tearlach hidden in the thick underbrush, and made his way toward the stones, above which he could now clearly see the smoke rising. Several small pebbles bounced around him, and he flattened himself beneath a small overhang, then carefully peered out. A guard, with a bow slung over his shoulder, stood watch directly above him, but thankfully, the man's back had been turned toward him. Duncan cursed beneath his breath. Until the guard moved elsewhere, he had no choice but to wait, for he didn't want the guard alerting the others to his presence before he found Kila.
With his broadsword in his hand, he waited, while night settled around him.
KILA PULLED HER CLOAK tightly around her and lay down near the fire, where she could see the guard on duty. After a few minutes she pretended sleep. Earlier, while sitting beside the fire, she'd studied the guard on watch. He rarely moved from his spot on the stones, but there were times when he looked elsewhere for long periods. That would be her signal to slip away.
The rest of Monro's men had found their beds long ago. Even Dubh had found a place beneath a pine tree and bedded down, thankfully, a good distance away from Kila. Earlier, the sky had been dotted with clouds, but now the full moon sat in a cloudless sky, as she had hoped it would, to light her way. Perhaps she would run into Tearlach before she reached the gorge, which would certainly make getting back there much quicker.
The guard on watch looked over his shoulder at the camp, before turning around and walking away.
With her heart pounding against her ribs, Kila quietly crawled to her feet and slipped into the wood, praying she'd not step on a twig and give herself away.
A branch snapped behind her, then another. Was someone following her? She picked up her pace. An arm suddenly snaked around her waist, and yanked her backwards.
Dubh chuckled. "Thought ye'd get away from me, did ye, lass?" he whispered against her ear.
Fear tightened her throat, and she could hardly breathe. In silence, she clawed at his hands, for if she screamed, the other guards would be there in seconds. "Turn me loose, or else I'll scream," she threatened. She didn't want to, but would, to keep Dubh from raping her.
"If ye do, I'll tell them I kept ye from getting away."
She drove her heel hard into his shins, eliciting a grunt.
He shoved Kila up against a tree, and tried to kiss her, but she turned her head away. "I've wanted ye since I first saw ye at Whitestag, and by the saints, I'll 'ave ye this night." He pressed his forearm against her throat to keep her still, while his hand snaked up her skirts.
"Nay, please dinnae," Kila pleaded, as he ran his hand up her bare thigh. She opened her mouth to scream.
"What the hell are ye doing, Dubh? Let the lady be."
He didn't turn around. "Keep out of this, Willie."
"If ye think I'm going to stand by and allow you to rape her, ye're daft. Now turn her loose."
Dubh swung around and struck Willie hard. He dropped to the ground like a sack of oats and lay still.
Kila took off running, using the moonlight filtering through the trees as her guide. Twigs and branches snapped behind her, and she realized she'd never be able to outrun Dubh. Trembling, she dropped to the ground, and crawled into the thick underbrush, ignoring the briars tearing at her skin and hair. She lay still and prayed he wouldn't find her.
AS SOON AS THE GUARD on watch could no longer see him, Duncan left the overhang and made his way toward the camp, but a commotion in the wood to his right caught his attention. He followed the noise, and came across a Monro guard out cold. What the devil was going on?
"Leave me be!"
Kila! With his heart drumming against his ribs, he raced toward the sound of her voice. He had to stop and listen more than once to make certain he was going in the right direction. When he did find her, she was fiercely fighting with a man who had her on the ground beneath him. Duncan's blood turned to ice. "Get off of her," he ordered, wanting naught more than to slice open the bastard's throat.
The man froze.
Kila crawled from under him, and raced to Duncan's side. "You dinnae ken how many times I've prayed you survived," she wept, hardly able to speak.
With his gaze on the man, he kissed the top of her head. "Did he harm you in any way?"
"Nay, only tried."
Duncan shoved her behind him. "Get to your feet and turn around slowly," he ordered, through clenched teeth.
When the man finally faced Duncan, he recognized him as being the guard he had been fighting when he fell into the gorge.
The guard grinned, his teeth a stark white in the moonlight. "Well, MacDonell, it appears I'll have
to kill ye again." He drew his broadsword and came at Duncan.
Duncan blocked the strike with his targe, and jumped back. "Get out of the way, Kila."
With her insides shaking, she stepped behind a tree and peered out. Duncan was alive! And she prayed he'd keep away from Dubh's blade, for she couldn't bear to lose him again.
Dubh sprang at Duncan, swinging his blade as he did, and thankfully, missed.
Duncan circled him. "Do you make it a habit of raping women? Even those who are betrothed to your laird?"
"Shut up, ye filthy cur," he spat, rushing Duncan.
The clang of steel on steel echoed through the wood, and Kila knew it was just a matter of time before the other guards found them. They needed to be gone from there, but she was afraid of distracting Duncan if she said as much.
Duncan spun around, swinging his blade, drawing it across Dubh's throat.
Dubh dropped his weapon and fell to his knees, before slumping to the ground and lying still.
Kila threw herself into Duncan's open arms.
"I'd like naught better to kiss you long and hard, lass, but I fear we need to put some distance between us and Monro's men, especially since I just killed one of them." He took her hand and quickly led her back the way he'd come. The guard on duty was nowhere to be seen, as they slipped past the overhang and headed up the side of the mountain.
"Dubh lies dead and Willie's been knocked out," a guard shouted to the others. "We've got to get the bastard what did it and find the lady. Laird Monro will be angry if we return without her," he warned.
Kila glanced over at Duncan. When she'd first heard his voice in the wood, she thought she imagined it. She still couldn't believe he was alive. He didn't appear to have been injured from his fall, but Kila wanted to know for certain. "Were you harmed by your plunge into the gorge?"
"I actually went into the river, and thought for a moment I was going to drown, but I managed to fight my way back to the top."
Tears blurred her vision. She'd come close to losing him forever. "When I saw you go over the edge, my heart shattered," she sobbed.
He stopped and faced her. "Kila, 'tis over, and we both are well."
She nodded. The knot in her throat kept her from speaking.
He pulled her into his arms and covered her mouth with his, dissolving her fears, if only for a few moments.
Dawn was nigh upon the land, and Kila's knees were trembling, when they finally reached the mountain's summit.
Duncan led her to a moss covered log. "Rest yourself, lass. I'll be back soon." When he returned, he was leading Tearlach, who gently nuzzled her cheek.
She patted his velvety nose. "How were you able to find him?"
He chuckled. "I didnae. He found me, didnae you lad?"
"I havenae thanked you for rescuing me—again. Much thanks, Duncan."
He grinned. "You're welcome, lass. It appears to have become my mission in life, but remember, you did rescue me, as well."
"Aye, but you were locked in that dungeon because of me. You may one day regret asking me to marry you."
He tightened his hold on her and kissed her cheek. "Never," he said, and kissed her thoroughly, before lifting his head. "Come, lass, 'tis time to go. I dinnae want Monro's guards catching up to us again."
She rose to her feet, and he lifted her onto the horse, then swung up behind her, before heading down the other side.
Once they reached the base of the mountain, Duncan turned Tearlach back the same way they'd come two days earlier.
Kila frowned. "Are you certain we're going in the right direction, Duncan?"
He chuckled. "Aye. I've traveled to Blackstone Castle many times. This isnae the route I usually take, for the other way is much quicker, but 'tis also the direction in which Monro's men will certainly go." He turned into the wood, where the early morning light filtered through the thick branches of the trees, and suddenly a visible path lay ahead of them.
Kila had eaten only a few bites of the hare at supper the night before, and her stomach growled its resentment at having been forsaken.
A few minutes later, Duncan brought Tearlach to a halt beside a raspberry bush, and lifted her down. "Perhaps a few of these will take the edge off your hunger, but we'll have to make it quick."
She smiled, feeling the heat rise in her cheeks. "Much thanks."
They hurriedly picked and ate several of the juicy berries, then headed toward his horse, tethered a few feet away. The sound of branches breaking brought them to a halt.
Kila felt ill, and her knees, weak. How had the guards found them so quickly?
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Duncan quickly retrieved the horse, and led it and Kila behind a massive stone. As they quietly waited, the sound drew closer. He looked at her and frowned, then peered out. A broad grin spread across his handsome face. "Come, lass. 'Tis only a herd of roe deer after the rowan."
She sighed with relief, as she followed him from their hiding place.
The tiny deer peered out of the foliage and warily watched them, as Duncan lifted her up onto Tearlach, then mounted himself.
"'Twas most kind of you to stop for the berries," she said, as they rode away.
He brushed his lips across her cheek. "Anything for you, lass," he whispered, sending warm shivers over her.
It amazed Kila that mere words—coming from him—could affect her in such a way.
They rode in and out of the wood for a time, but a section of the path was so treacherous they had to dismount, so that Duncan could lead Tearlach down a steep, rock covered hill.
As gloaming set in, Kila prayed they'd reach the safety of the castle before nightfall. At some point, she must have fallen asleep, for when she opened her eyes, an immense fortress of dark stone rose up before her. In fact, she thought the place looked quite sinister, and trusted Laird MacPherson was not as foreboding as his home. "Are you certain the laird will no' mind us seeking refuge?"
Duncan chuckled. "Nay. Alex takes a bit of getting used to, but he's a fine man. You'll see for yourself soon enough." When they reached the portcullis, he waved to the man standing guard."
The man hurried to raise the iron gate, and they rode into the bailey. "'Tis good to see ye, Duncan."
Duncan slid off the horse and helped her down. The two men grasped forearms. "Good to see you as well, Angus."
After handing Tearlach over to a stable lad, they entered the castle. Apparently everyone was in the great hall having their supper, and Kila suddenly realized she was about to meet the laird of Blackstone Castle after several days travel, and was still dressed as a servant. "Oh, Duncan. I wish I could have bathed and changed into something more presentable before meeting Laird MacPherson," she said, shoving her hair this way and that, hoping to put it in some sort of order. The arisaid she'd borrowed from Wyn was in much need of a good wash. She shook it out, in hopes of riding it of some of the dirt.
He chuckled. "You look fine, lass." He tucked her hand into the curve of his arm, and escorted her into the great hall as elegantly as if she were dressed in the finest gown.
They made their way across the room to the high table, where several people sat. She was certain Duncan could feel her trembling, but he said naught.
A young man with shoulder-length hair, as dark as a raven's wing, looked up and grinned. "Welcome, Duncan."
"Much thanks, Alex."
A beautiful woman, with the reddest hair she'd chanced to see, gasped when she saw them.
Duncan grinned. "You're looking as lovely as ever, Sorcha."
"Much thanks, Duncan," she said, then looked at Kila and smiled.
The handsome, dark-haired man sitting beside Sorcha grinned. "Duncan, what the devil are you doing here," he asked. "And who is the bonnie lass you've brought along with you?"
"Galen, I'll be more than happy to answer your questions, but food and drink are what we are in need of at the moment."
Galen snorted. "Why am I no' surprised?"
He introduced K
ila to his friends as they sat down on the bench at the table.
"I'm most pleased to meet you, Kila," Sorcha said, patting her on the arm.
'"Tis rare indeed, when Duncan brings a lass around," Galen said, raising his brows. "I'm mistaken. You're the first."
Duncan playfully glared at his friend. "Ignore him, Kila. Galen should have been a court jester."
Alex smiled. "'Tis the truth. Even I've been the target of some of his pranks."
She chuckled, already liking Duncan's friends, which she hoped would become hers as well.
While they ate, Duncan relayed the events of the past few weeks, with the others hanging on every word. Once he finished filling them in, Sorcha clasped her hands together. "Kila, I'm so glad Duncan brought you here. You will be safe under my brother's roof."
Kila smiled and nodded. "I thank you all for your kindness and hospitality." She stifled a yawn.
Sorcha frowned. "You're exhausted," she said. And after speaking with a servant, who curtsied and quickly left the great hall, she rose to her feet. "Come, I'll show you to your bedchamber."
After bidding the others goodnight, she followed Sorcha upstairs, and into a bedchamber, where the servant girl from the great hall tended a freshly laid fire, before turning down the bed and leaving the room.
"He cares for you. I can tell," Sorcha said matter-of-factly.
She'd caught Kila off guard. "Aye, he does." She had no doubt.
"And do you return those feelings?" This red-head didn't beat around the bush.
She nodded. "Very much so."
Sorcha smiled. "He's a good man, with a heart as big as the sky."
"So I've learned." Kila didn't know this woman well enough to tell her the truth about how she truly felt about Duncan—that she loved him with all her heart and soul.