The Talisman (Heart of the Highlander Series Book 2)

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The Talisman (Heart of the Highlander Series Book 2) Page 29

by Gafford, Deborah


  Nodding silently, he reached over and touched Logan's cold face. The dark stubble stood out in stark contrast to his colorless cheeks. Then he gripped his brother's shoulder in a silent farewell before he walked to the hut's doorway and signaled for the men to carry Logan to the waiting wagon.

  After they gently laid his brother's body in the wagon and covered him completely with another tartan, Gavin nodded to his men.

  Two of the MacPherson clansmen carried the trussed, bleating sheep over to the shepherd and his wife and laid them at their feet, then turned and went back to stand beside the cart.

  Forcing back his tears, Gavin looked at the man and his wife. "Please–" He stopped and cleared his throat forcing his words past the large lump burning there. "Please accept my gratitude for all you have done for my brother."

  The shepherd and his wife looked at each other, their mouths agape. The man nodded silently as if he knew not what to say.

  The woman walked up to Gavin and handed him the two small roughly sewn cloth pouches that had lain beside Logan's body. She opened them to show him what they held. One contained a lump of dirt and the other a bit of salt. "M'laird, we wish to give ye these fer yer brother. The bit o' earth is fer his body, to lie easy 'neath the sod, an' the salt is fer his immortal soul, to keep it pure an' help it find its way to Heaven's gates."

  Humbled by the gesture, Gavin silently nodded his thanks. He walked over and placed them gently beside his brother's body.

  Then he turned back to face the man and woman who had done so much for Logan, a stranger to them. "I… I thank you. My clan and I will not forget your kindness. …God be with you."

  Silently, he and his men mounted their horses as Calum climbed onto the seat of the wagon. The air was still, as if it held its breath in sadness. Gavin nodded to the couple, then he and his men slowly began the journey home. The only sounds he heard as they rode away were the plaintive cries of the sheep.

  God help him, they matched those in his heart.

  #

  The return trip seemed even shorter. Gavin's heart ached knowing the pain his news would cause Meggie and the others. He would see that Logan was buried in the village kirkyard beside their parents and then he would go in search of his brother's murderer. He dare not wait long for fear the bastard would escape him. Meggie and Ailis would be safe inside Kirkholm's walls with Calum to protect them.

  Silently, Gavin vowed to wed Ailis after he avenged his brother's death. Though she had never said it, deep down he sensed she truly cared for him. Perhaps she feared to admit it. He would find out why she held back from giving in to her feelings and help her through it. He loved her and wanted to care for her, to make her life happy once again.

  He had seen too much death and sorrow. With her by his side, he would know joy again. In the future, God willing, he and Ailis would have a large family to love and care for and carry on the MacPherson line. Aye, together, they would fill the empty places in their hearts and create a new life for themselves, surrounded by their love for each other and their children.

  #

  The sun was high overhead as he and his men neared the gates of Kirkholm. There was no need to call out for admittance. He knew the guards on the outer wall had watched their somber approach, and recognizing him, would open the massive gates as soon as they neared.

  The loud screech of the hinges seemed eerily appropriate as the gates slowly widened to allow them to enter. They rode under the portcullis and continued on to the inner courtyard, scattering squawking chickens and attracting the attention of dogs, running to yap at the wheels of the wagon.

  Gavin dismounted and slowly walked toward the keep, his feet as heavy as lead. He was tired. No, more than tired. It felt as if a part of him had died.

  God give him strength. He would have to tell Meggie now. What could he say? There were no words that would not destroy a part of her. Logan and she were twins. How much more would she feel his loss?

  As he crossed the courtyard, he looked for her among the small group of his clan that had begun to gather as if sensing something dire. When he did not see her, he entered the keep and continued toward the great hall.

  Calum joined him, shaking his head sadly. "My God, Gavin, how will we tell Meggie? She was fair hurt by Logan's no attendin' the celebration and our betrothal. But to realize she will ne'er see him again… I fear it may be more than she can bear. My poor Meggie!"

  "Aye, it tears me apart to have to tell her." He laid his hand on his cousin's shoulder. "I am glad she has you to care for her as well. Between us, we will help her through this. After we have spoken with her, I will send one of our men to fetch the priest from the village. I will see Logan buried before I leave. You must watch over Meggie and Ailis for me."

  Calum nodded silently.

  Gavin did not have to explain why he was leaving. If not for Meggie's sake, his cousin would be riding with him to hunt down Logan's killer. To speed him on his way to Hell.

  As if his tortured thoughts called to her, Megan's voice spoke from behind him as she followed him into the hall. "And where have you been, you two? I have not seen you all morn."

  Calum hurried to her side and protectively wrapped his arm around her shoulders. "Meggie, we have tragic news. You must be strong."

  She looked from Calum to Gavin, a look of apprehension spreading over her face.

  Gavin straightened his shoulders and drew a deep breath, at a loss for words. "Meggie, it grieves me near more than I can bear to have to tell you this. Logan is… dead. He was found by a shepherd two days ago. Calum and I left this morn to bring him home."

  "No! Dear God, no!" Megan turned pale and slumped backward into Calum's arms.

  Gavin watched his cousin pick her up tenderly and he nodded toward the stairs. "Bring her to the solar. She will be more comfortable there."

  After they had eased her onto a long bench, Calum sat beside her, cradling her head in his lap.

  Never since his parents' death had Gavin thought to see such crying and heartbreak again. A bitter ache settled in his chest as he stood there, helpless to ease his sister's suffering as she cried out her grief.

  After a time, Megan calmed enough to speak. She turned her gaze from Calum to Gavin with swollen tear-filled eyes. "How… how did it happen?"

  A look passed between the two men before either spoke.

  Calum stroked her hand and said, "We dinna know what happened, Meggie. Gavin will leave soon to seek an answer."

  She bolted upright. "What are you two not telling me? Why do you need to leave, Gavin? Tell me. I want to know!"

  Calum wrapped her in his arms as Gavin answered. "Meggie, we did not wish to grieve you more. Logan's death was no accident. He was killed by someone with his own dirk."

  Megan clutched Calum's arms. "No! How could that be?"

  A sudden flurry of skirts heralded a woman's entrance to the solar. "Ah, there ye are, Meggie," Katie said. "I have been lookin' all o'er the keep fer ye."

  She stopped suddenly, obviously noticing Megan's tear streaked face. "Fie, dinna be unhappy wi' Ailis. 'Tis my fault, nay hers. When I didna see her breakin' her fast wi' ye this morn, I was afeared ye were displeased wi' her." The clanswoman gripped her hands together and bowed her head for a moment as if ashamed. "I knocked on yer chamber door but she didna answer an' no one has seen her about. 'Twas I who asked her to talk to him, instead o' disturbin' ye last night, when he insisted on speakin' wi' ye."

  Megan wiped a tear from her face. "What are you talking about, Katie? I have not seen Ailis today."

  The woman looked flustered. "I thought since no one has seen her, that ye were vexed wi' her an' she had left the castle to be by herself for a–"

  Gavin's voice cut across her words. "Who asked to speak with Meggie last night?"

  "Why, 'twas Domhnull Murdoch, Logan's friend. He insisted on speakin' wi' her an' said he couldna wait till later; that he was leavin' the valley in the morn. He said that Meggie would nay forgive me if I didna br
ing her to him. Ailis went out to talk wi' him instead."

  "Out where?"

  "He was waitin' wi' his horse by the castle gates when I saw him. He insisted that I bring Meggie to–"

  Megan's cry interrupted her. "Sweet Mary, no! I just remembered. Logan told me he lost his dirk in a wager to Domhnull."

  Gavin didn't answer. He ran from the room and vaulted down the stairs. Fear beat at him and threatened to overwhelm him as he ran toward the stable.

  Chapter Twenty-one

  The late afternoon sun slowly made its way across the sky as Domhnull stood up and dusted off his ragged kilt. He had been watching the bloody hillside for hours. No one had approached. He snorted to himself. The bloody MacPhersons were nay so smart.

  It had been easier than he had expected. That dim-witted MacPherson wench had convinced Meggie to speak to him and none had seen him. He grinned. 'Twas a shame he couldna see Calum's face when he found his betrothed was gone.

  Domhnull licked his lips and rubbed his sweaty forehead across his arm. He had wanted Megan for years, but she had ne'er looked at him except as Logan's friend. 'Twould be different now. 'Twas nay damn brother or betrothed here to say him nay. He would use her for as long as it pleased him. Just let her try to act as if she was too good for him now.

  He grew hard at the thought of bedding her. It felt good just imagining all the ways he would take her. He had not had a virgin in many months. Even though that bitch in the wagon had nay spread her legs willingly, she had nay been a virgin.

  She should have kept quiet an' mayhap I would have let her live when I was through wi' her. She caused her own death. Aye, an' the old mon's too, by screamin' an' fightin' me the way she did.

  Bloody hell. Mam had screamed like that when she came down wi' the pox. I couldna abide listenin' to her. She would have died anyway, if I hadna killed her.

  The shrill screech of a bird brought Domhnull's head up with a snap. He whirled around, grabbed the dirk he kept sheathed in the top of his frayed woolen hose, and waved it in disgust. "Away from here, ye bloody crow! Ye are nay worth killin'. E'en wi' this poor excuse o' a blade."

  He looked down at his crude iron weapon and spit on the ground. "A pox on Logan fer hurryin' me hand. I didna mean to use his blade. I should have kept his fine steel one an' used this instead. If I had had more bloody time, I would have gone back fer it."

  Frowning, he shoved his dirk back in his hose then wiped his hands on his kilt before he picked up the finely crafted claymore at his feet. "Och, nay great loss. I have his grand sword. Aye, an' I plan to keep it."

  Domhnull scanned the land once more before he left his hiding place. "I have had enough o' sittin' on my arse waitin'. None will find me here." He cupped his swollen manhood in his hand and grinned. "I have better things to be doin'." His grin deepened as hurried to his horse.

  #

  When Ailis opened her eyes again, the dizziness was gone and her pain had eased. Ignoring the rancid smell of the rotting straw beneath her, she pushed and squirmed against the cot until she managed to roll onto her back. She looked around cautiously, hoping for a way to escape.

  Sunlight filtered through a tiny window cut into the wattle and daub wall high above her. A log burned in a fire ring in the middle of the dirt floor filling the air with a gray haze. Although the center of the roof had a smoke hole to allow the smoke to escape, several branches and straw had fallen free covering most of the hole. She could barely see the sky through the opening.

  Only a few feet from the cot stood a crude wooden table littered with a broken jug and spoiled food. A stool made from a log, cracked with age, stood on the far side of the table. The only door in the small, ill-kept hut stood across the room. Since Murdoch might now be just outside the closed door, she glanced back at the small window.

  Even if she could manage to free her bound hands, she would never be able to escape through the meager opening. Frustrated and frightened, she stared at her hands. Praise the saints. They were not tied as she had first thought. A strip of torn fabric was wound tightly around her wrists, but the end was simply pulled over and through the binding.

  'Twould seem Murdoch had been in haste to make his escape and had nay knotted the rag around her wrists. Was his haste also why her legs remained free? Or were they so for a different reason? It would take no feat of strength for Murdoch to spread her legs and rape her if that was his intention. God help her! She had no hope of defending herself with her hands bound!

  She trembled with fear remembering how he had caressed her back and called her Meggie. How violent would he become when he discovered the truth? Holy Mother, she must escape!

  Ailis thrust her bound wrists to her lips and frantically chewed on the filthy cloth. Her heart hammered in her chest as she listened for the slightest noise, fearing Murdoch would return before she could free her hands.

  Over and over, she tore at the unyielding fabric. It grew damp, but remained just as tight. She scraped her teeth over her wrists until they were raw and bleeding from her attempts to shred the cloth. Despite the pain, she continued to chew and tug. Suddenly, one end pulled free.

  With a cry of hope, she grasped the small fragment tightly between her teeth and yanked hard. She twisted her wrists even though the motion cut further into her skin. The binding loosened and slipped a bit. Then stopped.

  She choked back a sob as terror threatened to drive her sanity from her, and bit into the cloth again, biting and ripping at it with all her strength. God, she must not give in to her fright. There would be naught to save her if she did. Tears ran down her cheeks and soaked the cloth even more. They burned as they touched the raw scrapes on her skin.

  With a silent prayer, she clenched her teeth and yanked at the narrow band of cloth as hard as she could. All at once, the cloth ripped and fell from her hands.

  Needles of pain pricked her flesh and throbbed through her fingers as her blood pumped freely through them for the first time in hours. Despite the pain, she thrust her quivering hands to the cot and pushed herself upright. Dizziness overwhelmed her and fell back on the cot. Praying she had enough time, she forced herself to sit still even though she knew every moment she delayed might make her escape impossible. As soon as her head cleared, she stumbled toward the door.

  'Twas too late.

  Murdoch's massive torso blocked the doorway. "What the bloody–"

  Ailis spun around but he lunged and grabbed her shawl before she could take another step. Her head snapped back painfully as he jerked the shawl toward him. She lost her balance and fell against him.

  His hairy, pock marked arms immediately wrapped around her like a vise, smothering her in the odor of his rancid sweat. His bear-sized hands wrenched at her, spinning her around within the confines of his deadly grasp.

  Ailis struggled, her chin tucked against her chest, pulling back from him as far as his hold would allow. She did not look at him, fearing his anger would rob her of the last trace of courage she still possessed.

  #

  Domhnull sneered, "Ye needna fight me, Meggie. I have ye now an' I mean to keep ye. Look at me."

  Ailis kept her head lowered and continued to struggle in his arms.

  "Damn ye. I said, 'Look at me!'"

  With one hand, he dug his beefy fingers into her shoulder and reached for her chin with the other. She wrenched her head to the side and his hand fell to the neck of her dress. He grabbed it and yanked it viciously. The material ripped down the center partially exposing her breasts.

  Sucking in a quick breath, Domhnull felt himself grow hard once again. Even with anticipating the ways he planned to take Meggie, the long ride back to the cottage had lessened his body's reaction. But the sight of her exposed skin excited him afresh. For a moment he simply stood there and stared.

  Then, noticing the dark metal talisman nestled against her bosom, he reached out and tore it from her neck. The thin leather cord broke leaving a bright red line on one side of her neck where it had cut into her skin.


  He forced his gaze from her breasts and stared at the talisman in his hand. God's blood. 'Twas Fearghus' talisman. He thought he had lost it on the way back to the village. How had Meggie come by it?

  Releasing her shoulder, he wrenched the shawl from her head. "Ye! What are ye doin' wearin' Meggie's shawl?" He thrust his fist in her face and shook the talisman. "Where did ye get this?"

  Ailis recoiled from him and frantically tried to pull the torn portions of her dress together.

  Domhnull shouted, "Answer me, bitch! How did ye get this talisman?" His hands shot out and grabbed her, shaking her roughly and knocking her hands from her dress. The talisman bounced against her bosom as it dangled from the cord he held clenched between his fingers.

  Frenzied thoughts raced through his head. Meggie must still be at Kirkholm. The foolish chit he had sent to bring her to him would have told everyone in the castle about him by now. But how had this shrew come by Fearghus' talisman?

  Suddenly, the memory of his actions in the ale merchant's wagon replayed in his mind. He had been wearin' the talisman then. It had bounced against the woman's breasts as he had taken her. After the old mon had run in an' he had killed him, his daughter had fought wildly.

  Domhnull froze as he remembered the woman yanking the talisman from his neck as he killed her. He had nay heeded it for he had been in too much haste to set fire to the wagon an' leave before he was discovered.

  The woman before him moved suddenly, trying to pull free of his grasp. He tightened his grip on her shoulders and glared down at her. Somehow she had found the wagon an' taken the talisman from the dead wench. But when?

  Domhnull darted a quick glance at the talisman dangling from his fingers. The bloody thing was nay burned, not even its leather cord.

  'Twas only one way she could have done so. She must have been there an' taken it right after he left.

  She kenned what he had done!

  If she told Gavin about it, the MacPhersons would hunt him down like a dog.

 

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