Her sire had the nerve to chuckle in response. “Ye know naught of politics, Daughter. The MacDonell was naught but a thorn in my arse for years. If ye want the truth, I’ll give it to ye. The truth is that I was going to marry ye off to the MacLeod in order to stay in His Majesty’s favor. The truth is that Colin had a better idea to wed ye to the MacDonell so that ye could bring back our stone. The truth is that ye are merely a woman and what ye think doesnae matter in the ways of politics. Now I ask ye again, Sybella. Where is my stone?”
Her voice was cold and lashing, and she mocked his tone. “The truth is, Father, that your precious stone is gone—forever out of your grasp.”
“I donna have time for your foolish behavior. Ye were always a willful child. Howbeit ye are a clever MacKenzie. Even if the MacDonell discovered what ye were about, ye would’ve still taken the stone and preserved what is ours. Now where is it?”
“I donna have it.”
He grabbed her forcefully by the arms. “The last Ennis predicted was Lewis. I need to give him that stone, Sybella.”
“Ennis? Anabel’s father is your seer?”
A muscle ticked in his jaw. “I will nae ask ye again.”
“Then I will only need to respond once. ’Tis sleeping in the cold depths of the loch where it waits for your cold, black heart.”
His eyes darkened. “Enter!” Two of her father’s guards opened her bedchamber door. “Take her.” Each man grabbed Sybella by the arm and started to lead her out the door. Her father’s voice was soulless. “I know ye have the stone. Until ye come to your senses and give it to me, ye can sit—”
She whipped her head around. Shock and anger lit up her eyes as she faced him. “In the dungeon? Ye would place me in the dungeon for a rock?”
“That stone is our clan’s future. Ye, my dear, are nae. What kind of father would I be to place ye in the dungeon? Throw her in the pit.”
She paled.
In the middle of the night, she walked through the darkened halls in her bare feet dressed in nothing more than a nightrail and a blanket. She shivered, but it wasn’t from the cold. The pit was where her father threw the most unsavory of men…until they died. Their faint screams could sometimes be heard from the kitchens. Perhaps her father only had the men escort her to frighten her. Of course, that was it because her sire would never treat her this way. He couldn’t. She was his daughter. The daughter of the MacKenzie laird. A lady.
Sybella quickly pushed back the thought when they descended the cold, damp stairs. The smell overwhelmed her senses, reeking of bodily excrement and making her gag. The guard reached down and lifted the gate from the floor while the other lowered a ladder. They forced her to climb down.
She took one step and tears welled in her eyes. “Please donna do this. I beg ye.”
“We donna question our laird’s command. Please climb down, m’lady.”
With no choice but to descend into the devil’s dungeon, she reached the bottom and the men lifted the ladder. The gate locked over her head and she was embraced by darkness. Muck of unknown origin squeezed between her toes and when she tried to step, she slid and fell into something thick and wet.
She screamed.
The hole was dark and foreboding, and she felt a wretchedness she’d never known before. A raw and primitive grief overwhelmed her. She pulled herself to her feet, and when she slid again on the slimy floor, she sat down.
Sybella felt something move on her lap. She reached down and grabbed a ball of wiry fur, whipping it away from her body. Dear God, her father left her alone with the rats. She gulped hard, hot tears slipping down her cheeks. Perhaps Mary or Colin would hear her.
“Please help me! Please help me! I’m here! I’m here!” she screamed. “Mary! Colin! Help me! Let me out!” When she heard no response, she bellowed, “Mo mhallachd ort!” My curse on you!
When cursing her father didn’t work, Sybella’s tears choked her. Her throat was raw from her screams of terror, her teeth chattered, and her body trembled. A sensation of intense sickness and desolation swept over her.
She jumped.
“Where is the stone, Sybella?” Her father’s voice echoed from above. “Tell me where ’tis and I’ll lower the ladder.”
“Cha leig thu leas.” Don’t bother.
“Ella, stop this madness and tell me.”
“I told ye. The stone is at the bottom of the loch.”
“Why must ye be difficult? Ye are so much like your mother.”
“Thank ye.”
“I give ye fair warning. Ye arenae coming out of there until ye give me the stone.”
“Ye will ne’er destroy Alexander! Ye are naught but a mhic an dhiadhail!” Son of the devil.
His voice hardened. “Then ye can sit in the bowels of hell.”
Sybella shouted in a mix of anger and fear. She was furious at her vulnerability to him. Alex and John were right. Her father was a horrible man. As she sat in her darkened prison, she knew her only hope was if Mary or Colin would hear her. She would scream until she had no more voice left to give.
***
Colin was sitting down to break his fast when Mary walked into the great hall. She took her seat and was quiet, withdrawn. She seemed worried. Angus leaned over and whispered something in her ear.
“Madainn mhath,” Colin said to her. Good morning. “Have ye checked on Ella this morn?”
Mary’s eyes clung to his, analyzing his reaction. “Is it true then? Did ye do all of that to your own sister?”
“Wife,” Angus warned.
For the first time in his life, Colin saw Mary blatantly ignore her husband. “I asked ye a question.”
“Ye donna understand,” said Colin.
“And what part do I nae understand?”
“Mary,” said Angus in a firm tone.
“Donna ‘Mary’ me, Angus.” She turned and her eyes narrowed at Colin. “Ye placed Sybella in a situation she couldnae possibly win. Ye asked her to choose her clan over the man she loves. Nay woman could be expected to make such a choice, a sacrifice.”
His eyes widened. “She loves him?”
“Is that so hard for ye to believe?”
There was a heavy moment of silence.
“Have ye checked on Ella this morn?” he repeated.
“Have ye?”
“That is enough, Wife.”
She pushed away her trencher and stood. “It seems I’ve lost my appetite. Pray excuse me.”
Colin watched Mary storm out of the great hall with Angus nipping at her heels. In truth, Colin shared Mary’s opinion. He was disappointed in the man he’d become. Beyond trying to protect Sybella from the MacLeod, he realized he should’ve been protecting her against her own clan. He wondered when he’d lost sight of the difference between right and wrong.
He wasn’t sure how long he sat at the table alone, but when his father didn’t come to break his fast, Colin was somewhat surprised. No matter, now that his sister was home, he would try to make amends.
Colin ambled through the halls and found himself in front of Sybella’s door. He knocked, and when she didn’t answer, he opened the door.
“Ye will nae find her in there.”
He turned around to find his father standing in the hall. “Where is she?”
“Recovering my stone.”
Twenty-One
The amber rays of the sun were starting to set as Alex and his men rode into the bailey of Kintail. They were greeted by a wall of armed MacKenzie men with unsheathed swords. Alex glanced around as archers stood upon the parapet, waiting for their laird’s command. Blood fueled him and Alex didn’t care if King James’s own men were in attendance. He would fight the bloody lot of them. He had a purpose, a mission, and no one would stand between him and his wife.
He couldn’t believe Sybella had made the journey alon
e, without an escort, with only her hurt to guide her. Hell, he could be so blind. His wife had portrayed nothing but kindness, and he hadn’t even given her a chance to explain her actions. He’d assumed the worst. Remembering the look in her eyes when he said those hurtful words made him feel like a complete idiot. He needed to make things right. And he would start now.
The MacKenzie walked into the bailey, confident, arrogant. “Laird MacDonell, what brings ye to Kintail?” he asked with an air of indifference.
Alex dismounted, his hand on the hilt of his sword. He didn’t need to look to know that John flanked his every move. His men encircled him, protecting him from the archers. As he had planned, five guards proceeded on foot, ready to take out any archers that dared release their arrows.
“I’ve come for my wife.”
“Ye mean my daughter? For what purpose?” The MacKenzie’s eyes grew openly amused and his lips curved into a cynical smile.
“Ye attempted to kill me and blamed the MacLeod. Be thankful I donna run ye through right where ye stand. Return Sybella or I will take your head.”
A devilish look came into the MacKenzie’s eyes, and he threw back his head and roared with laughter. “Ye dare give me commands? I am Laird Kenneth MacKenzie. I donna take orders or listen to demands made by a mere MacDonell sow. Know your place, lad.”
The MacKenzie men cheered as Alex’s guards stood firm, not listening to the bastard’s taunts. Alex’s father and Donald had taught them well. They were not foolish enough to give the arse anything to use against them. When Alex hesitated to respond, the MacKenzie continued his rant.
“My daughter returned home because ye arenae man enough to get her with child. I believe she compared your cock to that of a mere bairn.”
Alex simply raised his brow and smirked. “I find talking with ye is mar a bhith a’ bruidhinn ri each ’na chadal.” Like talking to a horse in its sleep. “I will nae ask again. Give me my wife.”
The MacKenzie started to pace. “Ye think ye can merely ride into Kintail and give me demands? Tha thu gòrach.” You are foolish. “Let’s make a trade, shall we? I want the stone. Give me the stone and I will give ye Sybella.”
***
Colin paced and ran his hand through his hair. “Where the hell is she? I have been searching for her all day. She didnae break her fast, and she didnae come for the noon meal. How could she take her leave when her horse is still in the stable?” he asked for the hundredth time.
Mary’s expression was troubled. “I donna know. I have checked everywhere. She arrived with only the clothes upon her back, and I took them last eve to be washed. I know she was distraught, but surely she wouldnae wander off in only her nightrail. And her boots are still by the bed. Are ye sure your father said she took her leave to recover the stone? How could she ride back to Glengarry without a horse?”
“She didnae ride back to Glengarry. The stone is nay longer there. I donna like this. Something isnae right. Angus, ye check the parapet and we will search again.”
Colin and Mary checked the bedchambers, opening all of the doors and peeking in. They went to the ladies’ solar and his father’s study, and no one was within. They searched the library, running out of places to look. As a result of their limited options, they happened to walk into the great hall at the same time as Angus.
“She isnae on the parapet.”
When a loud commotion broke out in the bailey, Colin gave a brief nod. “I donna have time for this, Angus. See what that’s about and check the stables again while ye’re out there. Mary, come with me.”
They walked to the gardens in the back of the castle and called Sybella’s name. All of the signs indicated that his sister still remained at Kintail, but she was nowhere to be found. A thought froze in his brain and he shuddered. There was one place he had neglected to look.
The dungeon.
Mary shook her head and approached him. “She isnae here.”
“There is a place I didnae search. I donna want ye coming with me. ’Tis nay place for a woman.”
Mary reached out and touched his arm. “Please tell me your father wouldnae place Sybella in the dungeon. Surely he wouldnae do such a thing. Please tell me he wouldnae, Colin.”
She paled when he closed his eyes.
“I am coming with ye.” She ran to keep up with him, but he didn’t bother to slow his pace.
“Mary…”
“Naught ye can say will stop me. Let’s find Sybella. Enough time has passed. I am sick with worry.”
That made two of them. Colin had no time to argue. He descended the stairs to the dungeon, pausing only long enough to light the torch. He didn’t notice the chill in the air or the rat that gnawed on something in the corner. He was too concerned about his sister.
“Ella!” Mary called from the bottom step.
“Ye wait here.” He walked over and held up the light to the first, second, and third doors. Only empty shackles lined the walls, and the dungeon had no occupants. Colin shook his head, his misgivings increasing by the moment. “She isnae here.”
“Where could she possibly be?”
“I donna know. I have nay choice. ’Tis time to have speech with my father. I am mad with worry.” He put out the torch as Mary lifted her skirts and ran hastily up the steps. He was somewhat surprised that his cousin’s wife, who regularly preached about propriety, had remained by his side in the dungeon. This was the first time he had seen her throw caution to the wind. It was apparent that Mary was as worried about Sybella as he was. They proceeded to the great hall as Colin mentally prepared himself to confront his father.
“Lady Mary…”
Colin turned to see the cook standing with her young daughter by her side. The girl’s arms were wrapped around her mother’s waist. When the woman spotted him, she flinched and took a step back before his obviously frantic expression.
She lowered her voice as Mary approached. “My apologies, m’lady, but ’tis difficult to work on the meal for the morrow with all of that screaming. And pardon me for saying so, m’lady, but having my daughter hear that over and over isnae good for young ears. That ‘thalla gu taigh na galla.’” Go to hell.
Mary looked at Colin, and he raced to the one place that had haunted him as a child.
***
Sybella could no longer scream. Her voice had deserted her, the same as her husband. Darkness enveloped her and the muck swathed her. And when the smell no longer bothered her, that’s when she knew no one was coming for her.
She closed her eyes and wanted to succumb to blackness. She prayed the gods would take her now. She was no longer frightened and no longer angry, and her throat ached with defeat. Her mind was languid, without hope. Her head was bowed, her body slumped in despair.
The pain in her heart was a sick and fiery gnawing, but it could’ve been one of the rats that crawled on top of her. The last traces of resistance had banished and she had given up all hope. She was lost.
She wanted to die.
Her only regret was that Alexander would never know how much she loved him. When she finally spoke the truth, he hadn’t believed her. There were too many lies. She’d betrayed him. Her own husband. And for what? For a clan who didn’t give a damn about her and threw her away like a piece of garbage.
Being in the pit was a fate far worse than death. She sat in hell with no means of escape, wondering if her father would bury her or let her mind and body decay down here with the rats. If Sybella had a knife, she would put an end to this brutal torture.
She placed her head back on the slimy wall as something with legs crawled in her hair. And taking one last breath, she realized she didn’t care.
***
Some part in the back of Colin’s mind couldn’t fathom the cook’s words. His sister had been thrown into the pit. He was breathless with rage. His heart hammered against his chest and his breathing
was labored.
He threw open the gate from the floor and lowered the ladder. “Ella…” He wasn’t sure what frightened him more: that Sybella didn’t charge up the ladder or that she didn’t respond.
“Sybella,” called Mary.
Colin didn’t hesitate. He climbed down the ladder and couldn’t see a damn thing. “Ella…Dear God, Ella, please answer me. Come to me, Sister, and escape this madness.” He lowered his hand and then realized she probably couldn’t even see it.
“Did ye find her?” asked Mary from above.
“Nay. I cannae see and she doesnae respond. Ella, are ye here?”
He stepped off the ladder and almost slid in place. He reached out in front of him, but it was so dark. He shuffled his feet and almost stumbled over what he thought felt like a leg. How he prayed it was Sybella’s. He knelt down and found an arm. “’Tis all right, Ella. I am going to get ye out of here.”
He gently lifted her to her feet and she was limp in his arms. “Mary, I have her. Steady the ladder.” He bent down and hefted Sybella over his shoulder and then turned, fumbling for the ladder. “Hold on, Sister. ’Tis all right.” Colin climbed out from the depths of hell, and when he reached the top, Mary gasped.
“Oh, Sybella.”
He lowered his sister to the ground and propped her up against the wall. Mary brushed away her own tears and knelt down beside Sybella. Looking up at him, Mary smothered a sob.
“How could he do this? How?”
Colin studied Sybella, who sat with a glazed expression upon her face. She still wore her nightrail, which was caked with muck. She was filthy. Her hair was matted, and every spot of her ivory skin was covered with something unthinkable. When a centipede slithered its way from under her hair, Colin reached over and grabbed it. He threw it to the ground and crushed it under his boot.
Mary’s eyes widened and she told the cook to have a maid draw a bath for Sybella.
Victoria Roberts - [Bad Boys of the Highlands 03] Page 22