“Ye saved him, milady. I had never seen him more alive,” Dermot spoke. “Ye saved me as well. I shall be forever in yer debt.”
Before Aislinn could comment, she heard footsteps approaching. She quickly dried her tears and stood to bravely meet her captor.
Chapter 56
“What do ye mean they are missing?” Dougray stormed. Murrough had already gathered men for a search party and they were scouting the areas. “Dermot, Teige, Cormac, even Hamish, are gone?”
“It would seem so,” Murrough confirmed even though Dougray already knew the answer.
“Where was Aislinn going?”
“We don’t know, but we are looking into it. There is a definite trail leading from the gate. They seemed to be in a hurry by the tracks.”
Dougray was beyond worried. She disobeyed often but this was out of character even for her. She usually wandered near the glen or down by the water. There was no reason for her to venture toward Butler territory. It didn’t make any sense. “Send for Moira.” He whirled around to face Murrough. He didn’t know why he hadn’t thought of it earlier.
Murrough motioned to the guard to do Dougray’s bidding. Dougray paced the room.
Abbot Kirwan decided to come forward offering his opinion. “She has always fought against yer authority, milord. She may have decided that she would take no more. Mayhap she is on her way back to the Hennessy stronghold.
Dougray turned on the man, his eyes narrowing to slits. “When I wish to hear yer opinions, dear Abbot, I will ask for them.”
Kirwan turned his attention to Cahir, his beady eyes fastening onto his. Cahir was not comfortable with the abbot, but some of what he relayed to him could not be denied. He had seen firsthand what witchery the woman could perform.
At that moment, Moira was ushered in. Dougray quickly advanced upon her, nearly frightening the girl to death. He took a deep breath to calm his frantic heartbeat, so that he could better address the young woman. “Moira, did yer mistress say where she was heading this afternoon?”
Moira’s eyes nervously looked between Murrough and Dougray. “Something must have happened.”
“Where did she go, Moira?”
“She received a letter, milord.”
“Did she mention what was in this letter?”
“I am not sure, but milady said that she was going after ye.” “Me? Ye are sure?”
Moira nodded. “She took her sword. She thought ye were in some kind of peril.”
Dougray turned to Murrough. “We ride to Butler’s stronghold.” “But milord….”
“Don’t argue with me, Murrough. If Butler has Aislinn, he will die this night.”
Dougray stormed from the hall leaving Murrough to tend to the frightened maid.
“Has harm come to milady?” Moira searched Murrough’s face.
“We do not know what has become of her. But we believe that she was with Cormac and Teige.”
“Aye. Teige is a strong man.” Moira blushed and looked down at her folded hands.
Murrough realized that the lass must care deeply for Teige. He wondered if the man was aware of her budding attraction. He gently laid a hand on her shoulder. “Aye, lass, Teige is very capable. Do not worry so.”
She brushed away a tear, trying very hard to believe him.
Sir Fingham Butler eyed the securely bound Lady Aislinn Fitzpatrick of Dunhaven with a look that would have brought forth fear in the bravest of men, yet she stood there dry eyed, shoulders back and throwing a few glaring looks of her own.
Still, she didn’t look all that threatening. She was tall, as he had heard men say of her characteristics, standing nearly a full three inches above his own height. She was dressed in a riding habit, and her hair, though quite short, was decorated with beads painstakingly sewn into the strands. That seemed a little fancy for going out on a raid, but again she was an unusual woman.
She was not an overly attractive in his opinion but there was something about her eyes that seemed to captivate him. They were like pools of shimmering midnight with long dark lashes to frame them. Those bold eyes spoke of courage and he was not one to think lightly of such an attribute.
Even now at her obvious disadvantage she was blatantly eyeing him. If she was frightened in any way, he could not tell for she did not even flinch beneath his gaze. He stood in front of her now, feet apart, hands behind his back. “So, ye are the feared warrior whom they call Scathach.” He spoke in refined English and in return she answered him readily in the same language. “My lord, I am not aware what you might have heard about me, but I assure you that they are most likely exaggerated, as most tales usually are.” He smiled. “Most assuredly. Still, I have seen the fear in these men’s eyes.” He pulled out his dirk in a dramatic display hoping to unnerve her just a little. He was to be disappointed; not a single muscle did she move. Rather than being perturbed over the fact, he found himself rather impressed.
He approached her then, circling her before he took the sharp edge of his dirk and lightly ran it against the delicate portion of her neck. “Do I not frighten ye in the least?”
“No. I have decided that you must be a fair lord or you wouldn’t have so many loyal men. You won’t murder me in your home, especially with my hands tied behind my back because it wouldn’t be honorable.” She held her breath hoping that she had called his bluff. When she heard his low chuckle, she knew that she had been right.
He cut her loose and she immediately rubbed her sore members, trying to restore some circulation. “Come. Sit.” Butler indicated the bench.
Once seated, she looked at him again with questions of her own. “Since I was not invited on my own accord, I can only presume that you have some alternative motive?”
He smiled. “Aye. Ye don’t mince words, do ye?” “I believe in being direct.”
“Aye and so do I. We might get along yet. As ye know, the Lord of Dunhaven and I have not seen eye to eye.” “Enemies, is what I have heard.”
“Ye have been informed, but do ye know how this came to be?”
“Why don’t you tell me? From experience, I have learned that it is a good idea to hear both sides of the story.”
“It is simple: Dougray Fitzpatrick is a murderer.” This time he read unease in those dark penetrating eyes. She was human after all. “Ah, he did not tell ye this.” She didn’t say anything so he filled in the answers. “He murdered his wife…my only daughter.”
“You have proof of this?”
“Proof! Aye, there is proof. My daughter is dead. That is all the proof that one needs.” He was up and pacing then, furious that she had even questioned him.
“You witnessed the act?”
He stopped and glared at her. “If I had, Fitzpatrick would be dead now.
No, he was very clever indeed. He made her death look like an accident.” “And he did this because….” She held out her hands, wanting him to back up his accusation.
“Because he wanted her holdings and nothing more.” “Dougray is a very wealthy man, why would he….”
“He has nothing but his land; his money is gone, taken with his father’s death. He needed my daughter’s dowry to sustain his holdings. He would have lost everything if it hadn’t been for his marriage to Ella.”
“Why did you agree to the marriage then?”
“I was fooled into thinking that he might actually love her. They were not married more than a few weeks before my Ella met her untimely death. She was the most beautiful woman. She could have had anyone, someone who would have cherished her. Instead, she married a man who had no means other than a title.”
“It doesn’t seem to be the way that Dougray saw it. He told me he loved her. He weeps at her grave for the injustice of a life that was taken too soon. You say that Dougray is responsible? Well he feels the same and blames himself. He has told me what happened. Do you wish to hear his side of the story or do you prefer to continue your hatred without really knowing?”
Fingham hesitated. He hadn’
t expected this woman to defend Fitzpatrick. He had heard that she had been forced into this marriage. Finally, he nodded for her to continue.
“Dougray was supposed to have gone riding that day Ella died, but he was called away to settle a petty conflict, with two men who did not have the decency to put aside their differences for one more day. Ella didn’t want to wait for Dougray, feeling it could be hours before they would be able to head out. She wanted to ride in the beautiful afternoon sun and not take the chance that the weather would change.”
“Why was she on Fitzpatrick’s horse?”
“Dougray’s mount was the only one saddled. Ella was the one who insisted that she could handle the horse.”
“I don’t believe ye!” he shouted, his eyes bulging. He walked over to her as though he would strike her, but Aislinn again held her ground. Still looking at her, he yelled for his man. “Tremain!” He turned toward the door as the warrior filled the doorway. Obviously, he had not been far away. “Get her out of my sight!” he ordered as he stormed out of the room.
Tremain glanced at the retreating back of his lord before he turned raised brows to Aislinn. “Follow me.” He wasn’t overly cordial.
She started to head toward the stairs that would lead down to the dungeon, but Tremain halted her. “Nay. Milord wishes ye to have a room.”
Fingham went to his private chambers asking not to be disturbed. What if what the woman said was true? Could Fitzpatrick actually be innocent of his daughter’s death? It would have been like Ella to take Dougray’s mount. She never feared riding any horse. He collapsed in his chair, suddenly feeling very old and tired.
Cormac led the men in silence following the tracks readily enough. The more he dwelled on the day’s events, the more troubled he became by them.
The summons that was sent to Aislinn could not be from Fingham Butler.
It simply was not his way, which meant that Aislinn was heading into a sure trap. This was not the only thing that was bothering him. He had a nagging feeling that Fiona’s behavior this afternoon was a well thought out plan to keep him away from the keep. Fiona had mentioned that she needed for him to do her a favor, something that would ensure all their safety. He should have questioned her, but he had been lost within her sweet embrace, but now, her words came back to haunt him.
“Ye will need to go to Dougray’s aid in the Butler’s territory,” she cooed into his ear, as she hurried upon him. He had nodded his head, too close to rapture to comment on her strange request, and then he had fallen asleep exhausted from the hours of their lovemaking. He would have forgotten all about what she had mentioned, if he hadn’t been informed of the letter that Aislinn had received. Before he left the keep, he had tried to find Fiona and question her further, but she was conveniently nowhere to be found.
They had ridden hard and fast before they came upon a small party of Butler’s men. A fight immediately broke out but they had the advantage, and it ended before there was any bloodshed. From the ones captured Cormac was able to learn what had happened to Aislinn and the others.
Tremain had taken them prisoner. He swore under his breath wondering what course he should take now.
He solemnly walked over to where the bodies were thrown knowing from his captives that one of his men had fallen trying to defend Lady Aislinn. He came through the foliage spotting him only a few feet away lying there in a pool of blood. Grief washed over him like a wave. The boy had been under his command and he had failed him. He clutched the hilt of his sword, wishing that he could seek his revenge for the injustice done.
He knelt down on his haunches resting his head in his hands as the full weight of his bereavement fell upon him. He had failed everyone whom he held dear and for what? Never should he have listened to his heart.
A low moan drew his attention. He stood, his hand still on his sword for he was not sure who stirred or if there was a threat. His eyes widened in disbelief. “Hamish?”
The boy slowly turned and looked to where he saw Cormac. “What happened?” Hamish was still disoriented. He looked down at himself and saw the sticky substance that was splattered against his clothing. “I’ve been slaughtered!”
Cormac was beside him now searching for the wound that had caused the unsightly spillage. “Ye are speaking with a strong mind; I do not think the blood is pouring from yer body. He motioned for Hamish to look behind him. The boy turned his head to see a slain man with only part of his head still attached. Hamish quickly looked away feeling the bile rise in the back of his throat.
“Ye were lucky this day, Hamish. An amazing thing that the blood of a Butler is what has saved yer sorry arse.”
Hamish nodded but his worries were not of himself. “Where is A.J.?” “Tremain has taken her. We came upon ye after the fighting was over. We have learned already that Dermot and Teige were taken hostage as well. Tremain obviously left ye for dead.” He helped the boy to his feet.
“We need to go after them.” Hamish was already looking for his sword. “We need more men. Tremain is bringing milady back to the Butler’s stronghold. We will not be able to reach them in time.” “We can try.”
“That would be suicide, Hamish. As it is, we endanger ourselves by staying here. They will be back to investigate what became of their men. Thinking the worst, they will bring plenty. It would not be wise for them to find us chatting about our options. Retrieve yer sword, Hamish, we must go back for help.”
Dougray’s men came across Hamish and Cormac almost immediately. Dougray himself rode ahead to meet them, hoping that they would tell him that Aislinn was already on her way back to the keep, but one look at Hamish was enough to send him into a panic. “What has happened here? Where are ye injuries, lad?”
“’Tis not my blood, milord, but the blood of a Butler,” Hamish answered.
Dougray looked to Cormac. “And Aislinn?” His heart pounded in his ears waiting to hear his answer.
“She is alive, but Tremain has taken her to Lord Fingham. Teige and Dermot are prisoners also.” Cormac could not meet Dougray’s gaze for he was guilty of leaving the keep unattended.
“How much lead do they have on us?”
“No more than an hour,” Cormac again answered.
Dougray looked at Hamish whose eyes were downcast. He moved his mount over to him. “Ye may go back to the keep if ye like.”
The boy met Dougray’s eyes and sat up a little taller. “Nay, milord. I will fight till we have A.J.…I mean milady, home safe and sound.”
He nodded. “Ye are a man now, Hamish. Forgive me for not seeing that sooner. He turned to Murrough. “We must be alert.”
A rider approached and the men parted to let him by. Dougray’s eyes widened in surprise. “Fiach Ó Colmaín what are ye doing here?” He couldn’t help but notice the broadsword he carried; he looked up seeing his cousin smiling at him. “But ye are a priest.”
“So ye and the others keep reminding me, but I am a man first with duties to his family. Yer wife has been taken to the enemy’s keep; I am here to lend a hand.”
“Ye still know how to use that rusty old thing?”
“I took vows. I did not hack off me arms. Now what do we know?”
Chapter 57
Aislinn still was not sure what was going to happen to her, but for now she seemed to be safe since Tremain deposited her in a private chamber with food and drink. She was treated with upmost respect, but still there was no denying that she indeed was a prisoner. She had barely touched her meal when the servant came back for the tray. She was an elderly woman with gray hair and with eyes that looked upon her with kindness. “Please tell me, my friends that were brought in with me, are they all right?”
The older woman glanced nervously behind her. “Do not ask such things.” She went over to the tray, noticing that the tall dark woman had not eaten very much. She took pity on her. “They are still alive.” With that she took the tray and hurried out of the room.
Aislinn couldn’t help but try the door to see if
it was unlocked. Of course it was not. She went back to the bed and sat down. She didn’t know what she was going to do. A quick survey of her prison, she found nothing that would aid her in an escape. The windows were mere slits and she wouldn’t be able to fit through them and the only weapon she could find was the heavy candlestick holder. She wasn’t sure what good it was going to be against swords and daggers, but still she kept it close at hand.
There seemed nothing more she could do, but wait.
Dougray’s men swiftly surrounded the outermost region of the castle, relieving some of Butler’s men from their posts and securing the area.
Fiach came to stand by his cousin. “I do not mean to draw this to yer attention, but I feel it would be of some interest to ye.” Dougray looked at him and nodded for him to continue. “Ye might find it a bit curious that though Hamish is covered with the enemy’s blood, yer man Cormac has not a drop, not even on his sword. Ye might want to question where he was when the fight broke out.” Fiach moved back to his position, but Dougray’s eyes sought out Cormac. He had never in the past had reason to doubt the man, but he couldn’t dismiss the obvious clues. Cormac had been acting peculiar, almost guilty…but from what?
Teige stood and walked over to the bars that held him prisoner.
“It’s of no use ye know,” Dermot told him. “What’s not?”
“Ye trying to see if ye can bend the bars to yer will. They’re still as sturdy as they were when they first brought us in here.”
Teige sighed. “I can’t stand not knowing what is going on up there.” “Butler has definite plans, but I would wager that he has no intentions of hurting A.J.”
“Nay. I’ve come to suspect that milady is bait.” “Bait?”
“Aye, Dermot. Butler wants the Fitzpatrick well enough and what better way to have him come straight to him.”
“A trap sure enough.”
“Aye, and us stuck below like a couple of rats.” He pounded his fist against the door.
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