“Your cousin?” Nioclas asked, bewildered. “But that would mean—”
“Yes,” she said hurriedly, “it does. He’s guarding the gate while I free you, and Donovan has his men attacking the Kildares—or Burkes, or whomever—any second now. So let’s get out of here!”
“Wait,” Nioclas said. He grabbed her and kissed her, hard. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome,” she replied, smiling up at him. “And if I don’t get a chance to say it later…I love you. More than anyone, or anything.”
His eyes searched hers, and he kissed her again, but it was interrupted by her cry of pain. He released her. “What is it?”
“My arm,” she managed. “I think I tore my stitches when I was breaking your wrist locks. Burke cut me with his sword before you came to save me. It’s been healing, but I think I just did some damage to it.”
“My laird, I hear the sound of battle,” Kane interrupted.
Nioclas nodded once, then followed him up the stairs, keeping Brianagh close to his back, and allowed his fury to overcome any pain.
Burke would pay for many things this day.
Chapter 29
Colin handed Nioclas and Kane swords as soon as they ascended, and the four of them made it halfway across the lists before they were charged.
“Aidan and Donovan are in the great hall,” Colin said quickly. He pushed Bri and Nioclas behind him, then drew his sword. “Go! We’ll meet you there!”
Colin and Kane clashed swords with the two Kildares who still stood, and Nioclas and Bri ran for the wall. Slipping inside, he took her hand and together they ran the length of it, passing the crack where Erin and Bri had first spied on their husbands. Further down, the wall turned sharply left and narrowed. Slowing to accommodate the darkness, Nioclas gripped his sword and motioned for silence.
Brianagh followed him as they made their way closer to the castle proper. The wall began to widen slightly again, and they came to a halt at the end of the passageway, where they reached a stone wall.
“Dead end,” Bri whispered, her heart sinking.
Nioclas shook his head slightly, then gave a careful push. The wall opened a fraction.
Bri watched in amazement as Nioclas inched it open silently until he had enough space to see through the crack. He gave a mighty shove and pulled Brianagh into an empty chamber.
“I need to get you to safety,” Nioclas said in a low voice.
“Burke is after me,” she replied. “This is my battle, too.”
“Must you always argue with me?”
“Reilly asks me the same thing, all the time,” she replied pertly. “I know the plan, Nioclas. Trust me.”
“I do, but I don’t want you dead.”
“That’s good,” she said, “because I don’t want me dead, either. Let’s go finish this so we can finally get to living, okay?”
Nioclas kissed her hand, then tucked her behind him as he peeked out the chamber door. “All clear. Where to, my lady?”
“I’ve heard all great battles take place in the great hall,” she responded matter-of-factly, ignoring the sweat on her temple and fear in her heart.
“Then, by all means,” he replied grimly, “I shall go to the great hall. But you will stay safe. I’ll find you another chamber. Barricade the door, Brianagh, and let no one but me in, do you understand?”
She nodded, and they darted into the hall and up the stairs. The first chamber they came across was empty and faced the bailey. The sounds of battle cries and men dying came from all sides.
“I must find Burke,” Nioclas said quietly. “This doesn’t end until he dies.”
She nodded wordlessly. He kissed her once more, then was gone.
She barricaded the door and set to pacing.
• • •
Brianagh had no idea how long she stayed in the chamber. The battle cries had died down long ago, and still she paced, alone, unsure as to what she should do next. Nioclas hadn’t yet come for her, and every noise she heard made her jump. The afternoon light was beginning to fade. There wasn’t much daylight in the winter, and she knew firsthand how cold it would become. She had no kindling for a fire, and the shutters in the chamber had broken in a few places, allowing the cold air to seep into her bones.
She wrapped her arms about herself and plodded to the window to look out across the bailey. A heavy mist had rolled in from the sea, enveloping the castle in its embrace. It clung to the battlements, shrouding the castle from the village beyond. Brianagh felt as though she were suspended in a castle atop a cloud.
Brianagh avoided looking down. The number of dead bodies strewn across the bailey made her nauseous. The smell of blood wasn’t helping, either. But mostly, her fear as to why Nioclas hadn’t come for her yet had her wishing for a stronger stomach.
A sudden, insistent banging had her spinning to the door, her heart in her throat.
“Open up, Brianagh!” Nioclas called.
She ran to the door and fumbled with the latch and piece of wood she’d laid across it. With it finally unlocked, she threw the door open and lunged into her husband’s arms.
“Easy,” he said soothingly, running a blood-caked hand over her hair. “We’re safe. The castle is ours again.”
“Is he dead?” she asked, her voice shaking.
“We can’t find him,” Aidan said from behind Nioclas. “We think he ran, the coward.”
She glanced around Nioclas and saw all of them—Aidan, Donovan, Reilly, and Colin—standing in the hallway, battle-weary warriors. She was profoundly grateful for each of them.
They walked downstairs together. Brianagh covered her mouth and tried to quiet her stomach at the dead men around them.
“Mostly Kildares,” Nioclas said with a sigh. “If he had but taken my alliance…”
“He was a fool, and his people suffered for it,” Colin said with a grimace, walking to the only table left in the hall. Leaning on the wall next to the hearth, he rubbed his face with his hands. “These are difficult times, MacWilliam.”
“We need to find him,” Aidan said, his voice low and insistent. “He won’t stop until we are both dead, and Brianagh is his to control.”
“Aye,” Nioclas agreed, pulling Brianagh in front of him and wrapping his arms around her protectively. He watched as his surviving clansmen began to drag the bodies out of the hall. “I should send scouts out—”
“Send me,” Aidan cut in.
Nioclas dropped his arms from Bri. “Nay. I thought I’d lost you once before and I could barely stand it. I cannot afford to lose you again.”
Aidan grabbed Nioclas’s arm and gave him a hard shake. “I must find him,” he said fiercely. “He will not stop, Nick. He’ll find more men to attack us—you, me, Brianagh, our clan. And what about your children? He’ll come after them as well.”
Nioclas remained silent, acknowledging the truth of it.
“Only I can do this,” Aidan said, hardening his resolve. “You must send me—our clan needs you here.”
Nioclas closed his eyes briefly, and when he opened them a moment later, they were hard chips of granite. “Cian!” he called out to an older man who joined them by the hearth. Turning to Aidan, Nioclas placed a hand on his shoulder. “You will take the utmost care.”
“Aye,” Aidan replied, his voice strong.
“My laird?” Cian asked, giving a quick bow.
“How many elders are alive?”
“Five, and I hope you know our loyalty still lays, and always has, with you.”
“I know,” Nioclas replied, placing his hand on the elder’s shoulder. “I only wish the others had given their oath so as to save their lives.”
“Clan before self,” Cian said, a touch of sorrow in his words. “We thought the best way to help the clan was to stay alive so we could fight this battle. The others…didn’t.”
“I know,” Nioclas repeated, his voice like steel. “That is why I’m giving you the most important duty I’ve ever given since the day we
rode against Burke over twenty years ago.” Nioclas raised his voice so all in the hall could hear him. “Cian MacWilliam, I charge you to go forth with my brother, Aidan MacWilliam. Your purpose is to find Burke—and kill him on first sight.”
“You do not want the honor?” Cian asked.
“Honor has nothing to do with it,” Nioclas stated firmly. “He is a threat to us.” Raising his voice again, he continued. “Burke will gather more men and attack us again. When those men lose to us, as they will, he will run from battle—again—and continue the cycle until he has killed me and my brother and taken my wife for his own. Aidan will be your laird in my place. You shall honor him as such and do as he asks.”
“Aye, my laird,” Cian replied, bowing. “When do we depart?”
“Soon,” Aidan said. “Say your goodbyes, then meet me in the stables.”
“My wife died last year, and there were no children. I am ready to leave immediately, my laird.”
Aidan nodded, then turned to Nioclas and embraced him carefully.
“Bring him back dead,” Nioclas said.
Brianagh threw her arms around Aidan, finally letting her dam burst. “Please take care,” she pleaded through her tears. “I can never thank you enough.”
“If I don’t return, you can name the little one after me,” Aidan whispered, then threw her a lascivious wink.
She laughed, then swatted him on his uninjured arm. “Don’t,” she laughed, then sniffed. “Ry, Col, are you staying?”
“For a bit,” Reilly replied. “But not long. We’ll help clean up here, then be on our way.”
Aidan turned before leaving the castle, giving her a quick wave and blowing her a kiss. She pretended to catch it, then smiled sadly as he disappeared down the steps.
“I hope he finds him,” she said, staring at the empty spot in the doorway.
“He’ll find what he’s looking for,” Reilly whispered in her ear. Straightening, he said, “Perhaps it’s time you get your husband up to his chamber and take care of his wounds?” He handed her the satchel they’d originally stuffed with food, now filled with the supplies James insisted they take.
She took the bag, then looked over at Nioclas. He was in discussion with Donovan about something, and she nodded. “Yes, of course.”
“I’ll have someone send up hot water,” Reilly said, catching her arm. “Be sure to wash everything before applying any of that to him.”
She nodded, then wrangled her husband away from Donovan and herded him upstairs.
• • •
After allowing his wife to fuss over him before, during, and after his bath, Nioclas admitted to himself that he liked the feeling of being cherished. She refused to allow him to bathe himself; she’d insisted upon washing every inch of him.
He complied with haste.
When evidence of his acquiescence presented itself to her, Brianagh blushed furiously but refused to stop her ministrations. She carefully dried him, then had him lay face down on the mattress naked so she could apply a salve of some sort to his back. She attended to each whip mark gently, packing them with a poultice she made with her mysterious satchel of supplies.
Her feather-light touch was leading him to madness. With more patience than any saint he knew of, Nioclas sat still while she wrapped a stiff cloth around his back and chest. When she finally stood back and pronounced him finished, he grabbed her and flipped her onto the bed.
“Nioclas!” she exclaimed breathlessly. “Your back!”
“And my ribs,” he said as he trailed his tongue up her neck, “and my wrists.” He nipped her jaw. “And my heart.”
Her breath caught as he reached her ear. His tongue did wonderful things that made her close her eyes and moan softly.
“You’re the one to heal me,” he whispered, blowing gently on the spot he’d just kissed. “Just you…”
“Maybe,” she said slowly, “more than just me.”
He kissed the sensitive spot behind her ear, and she shivered. “Mmm,” he murmured, “I’m sure I don’t know what you mean.”
She took his hand and guided it to her belly. “More than just me,” she said again softly. His eyes widened at his hand lying on her flat stomach.
Then his eyes flew to hers, surprised and amazed.
She nodded. “Once was enough, I suppose,” she said with a small smile.
His gaze intensified as he stared into her eyes. “Once will never be enough,” he said. “Forever will never”—he kissed the corner of her lips—“be”—he kissed the other corner—“enough.” He slid his tongue between her lips, and she sighed, giving him greater access. He deepened the kiss, his hand never leaving her stomach.
“NICK!”
“The man has the worst timing known to mankind,” Nioclas said against her lips.
She laughed, then wrapped her arms around Nioclas’s neck. “Can we ignore him and hope he goes away? That’s what my aunt always told me to do when boys would bother me at school.”
Nioclas growled playfully. “If any lads bother you here, they’ll have to deal with me. I don’t, unfortunately, ignore annoyances.” He kissed her hard on the mouth, then rolled off the bed and stalked to the door. “What?” he snapped to Donovan and Reilly.
“We think Burke is still in the castle somewhere.” Donovan glanced down. “You might want to get dressed for this one.”
Brianagh sat up, her eyes wide. “What?”
Donovan nodded. “His horse is still tethered—we found it in the forest not an hour ago.”
Nioclas swore, then grabbed his léine and began wrapping it around himself. “He could’ve left on foot.”
“Not likely,” Reilly replied, appearing at the door. “We also found this.”
Nioclas took the scroll from Reilly and unrolled it. His jaw set as he read it. “Cavan.”
“What’s Cavan?” Brianagh asked, waving them all into the room and shutting the door behind them.
“Who,” Reilly corrected her. “He’s a MacWilliam ally.”
“Or was,” Nioclas said. He handed the scroll to her. “He looks to be the next clan Burke wishes to bring against us.”
“This is a contract that if the other dies in a battle with the MacWilliam clan, the other is to assume lairdship until the battle for true laird can take place,” Brianagh said. She looked up. “I’m confused.”
“It’s the same deal he had with Kildare,” Donovan said angrily. “He sends the laird and his men in to die, then assumes control of the clan once the dirty work is done. It’s his strategy for acquiring his own clan again.”
“Very bold,” Reilly agreed. “But effective. With the laird’s signature and seal, there’s no contesting this.”
“Which is why we think he’s still in the castle,” Donovan added. “He has nothing without this parchment.”
“Well, no time like the present to find the bastard,” Nioclas said. He shot a look at Brianagh. “We will finish what we started, my lady. I vow it.”
“I know how seriously you take your vows,” she replied with a small smile.
Chapter 30
Brianagh sat in the kitchen, chopping vegetables to keep busy. Keela was working alongside her silently, and Kane guarded the door after he’d barricaded the other. Twenty other men guarded the kitchen area in various form. Despite Brianagh’s complaints, Nioclas refused to move on his stance. She was carrying his child and she would be protected at all costs.
She gave an extra oomph to the poor potato in front of her, then put her knife down and sighed.
“I understand the feeling, my lady,” Keela said, wiping her hands on the front of her apron. “But we must feed these men to keep their strength up. If we concentrate on that, it’ll pass the time.”
Bri nodded. Keela was right—it was something to do while they waited. She was pretty tired of waiting, though. She couldn’t believe she’d freed Nioclas from the dungeon just that morning.
His stamina was incredible. If the positions were reversed, she
would’ve had at least a small nap by now. But, as she was learning, a laird’s duties never truly ended.
Nor a laird’s wife’s, she thought, looking over the table of vegetables she’d chopped. “I think it’s time to start the soup,” she said, digging in the woodpile. “It looks like we’re out of kindling, though.”
“I just stocked it this morning,” Keela said, pointing with her knife to the small buttery in the corner. “Check in there.”
“I’ll check,” Nioclas said as he entered the kitchen. “I don’t want you lifting anything.”
“I’m not made of glass,” Bri called to him as he rummaged in the buttery. “Don’t get all overprotective of the little things, Nioclas.”
He emerged with an armful of kindling and added it to the small fire in the hearth. He brushed his hands off, then turned to Brianagh. “Walk with me.”
She followed him outside and to the gardens behind the kitchen. It would be lovely to plant something there in the spring, she thought as she glanced around. Fresh herbs, some tomatoes if they could get them, perhaps even a flowering plant of some kind to add a bit of color. She smiled in anticipation.
Nioclas led her to the same alcove where they’d discussed their marriage, and the memory brought another smile to her face. So much had changed since then, and she wouldn’t trade it for the world.
“I’d like to stand,” she said when Nioclas motioned for her to sit. “I’m feeling restless.”
Nioclas didn’t say anything for a long minute. “O’Malley did everything he could to keep you safe.”
“I understand that,” she replied, curious.
“He brought you to a place where you had family to care for you and medicines to bring a man back from the dead.”
“Were you digging around in my satchel again?” she asked with a grin.
Nioclas gave a half-smile. “My duty, as your laird, but also as your husband, is to provide you with that same kind of safety.”
The Winter Laird Page 24