“To arms,” Kenneth called and looked to Alec, who signaled for the beacons around the wall to be relit.
Bam! A cascade of rocks could be heard on the outer wall as another cannon slammed into it.
“Signal the men who stayed back on the ships to come around and engage,” Alec said as a bombardment of three cannonballs blasted into the wall.
“Fire!” the lookout on top of the wall yelled. Alec snapped his gaze up to see him pointing toward the village.
Tor and Cullen ran in the gate from the far outer wall. “Your village is on fire, MacNeil,” Cullen yelled. “Ye need men back there.”
“I have six men here who can row across,” Tor said.
“Daniel,” Alec called to his lead oarsman. “Kenneth is readying the ships to attack. Organize the rest of the men to row back to the village. Kisimul can withstand cannon.”
Daniel ran, waving his hands for attention. Ian hobbled out of the soldiers’ barracks with his leg wrapped tightly to the iron braces. Another cannon hit the back of Kisimul.
“MacInnes has a death wish,” Ian said. He had his sword strapped to his good leg.
“Ye should be resting,” Alec said, taking mental note of the men moving in their designated groupings.
“With cannons trying to blast into Kisimul? Not likely,” he said. “I can help put out fires in the village.”
“Find out who lit them,” Alec said as he turned back to the keep where Mairi and his children were.
Kisimul will hold. It’s held for centuries.
“Mairi!” he yelled as he tore into the keep.
He ran to the stairs and stopped at the bottom. Mairi stood at the top, looking every bit the angel in her white smock and robe. Her face looked pale, her eyes red. She’d been crying.
“Mairi.”
She held up a hand to stop him from approaching. “I’ll get the children,” she said, her voice strong. “And Millie. We’re safe here. Kisimul will never fall.”
“The village is on fire,” he said.
“Go,” she said, waving him toward the door.
“We will talk when I return,” he said, looking up at her, wanting to run up to touch her, hold her. “Don’t leave.”
She held the wooden railing at the top with both hands. “Make certain ye return,” she said. “I don’t want to add your boat to the line at the dock.”
Another cannon blast hit the outer wall. “It will hold,” Mairi said. “Go.”
With one last look, he turned, running out to join his men.
Chapter Nineteen
Mairi ran into Cinnia’s room. Both children stood at the windows, staring through the glass into the night. “Mairi,” Cinnia yelled and ran across the room, throwing herself into Mairi’s arms.
Mairi stroked her head. “Kisimul is stronger than cannonballs.”
“That’s what I told her,” Weylyn said, but his face looked as white as a bleached sheet. Daisy whined, her ears perked high on her head as she sat on the bed beside Weylyn’s dog.
“Let us get dressed,” Mairi said and smiled. “If we are going to be under siege, we shouldn’t do it in our bedclothes.” She led Cinnia over to the privacy screen where her day dress hung. “I need to find my own and check on Millie. Meet me in my chamber.” The children began helping each other into their clothes, and Mairi flew out the door, running down the hall.
She opened the door to find Millie already dressed. The woman pointed to the window and formed an O with her lips. Who? Mairi came closer, so Millie could see her lips move in the dim light. “Geoff MacInnes. He’s angry about his ship being crippled off South Uist and me being taken from Kilchoan.” Although he’d seemed much more infuriated about his bloody ship. With both Cullen and Tor here, as well as the MacNeil warriors, Geoff was a fool to attack.
Cinnia and Weylyn barged into the room, Daisy and Ares on their heels. Mairi ran behind her changing screen and threw on a new smock and her day gown. When she stepped out, Millie was hugging both children in to her.
“No worries, ye two,” Mairi said with forced cheerfulness. “Kisimul has never fallen to attack. Cannonballs may mar the outer walls, but they will never break through to us.”
“Where is Bessy?” Cinnia asked.
“I haven’t seen her,” Mairi said. With all the noise from the cannon fire, she surely would have come running.
“Maybe she’s hiding,” Weylyn said. “She’s not very brave.”
“Weylyn, run to her room and see if she’s in there,” Mairi said. “Meet us on the landing.” Ares ran off with him.
Mairi bent to stroke Daisy, who stepped up on her bent knee to lick her cheek. She scratched behind the dog’s ears. “Don’t worry. Kisimul protects dogs as well.” She kissed her smooth head.
Straightening, Mairi waved to Millie to follow with Cinnia out into the corridor. Mairi and Millie both held candles to light their way. Weylyn’s boots cracked on the floorboards as he and Ares ran up, both panting.
“She’s not in her room, and her fire’s out, like she hasn’t been there all night,” he said.
“Maybe she is still in the kitchens,” Mairi said. “We’ll check, but let’s stay out of the way of the warriors.” She took hold of Weylyn’s small hand and felt him shaking. He would become a mountain of strength like his father, but right now he was still a child of seven.
Mairi bent before him. “I need ye to keep an eye on Ares and Daisy and any other hounds about. Ye have a way with them, and they’re bound to be frightened.” As if she understood, Daisy nuzzled into the boy and whined.
A look of pride replaced some of the fear in Weylyn’s face. He stroked Daisy. “It will be fine,” he said to her. “Kisimul never falls.”
Cinnia took Millie’s arm, and Mairi walked behind them to keep an eye on everyone in their small group. Behind them, the bailey emptied as men left the small island to fight. Geoff was an idiot if he thought he could win this. “What is he thinking?” Mairi whispered and ducked into the lower kitchen. The other two dogs from Kilchoan ran across the bailey to join them.
“Da must have taken Geri and Freki across with him,” Weylyn said. “They are trained for battle.”
Cinnia raced up the steps to the upper kitchen and then back down. “She’s not up there,” Cinnia yelled, holding her skirt as she leaped back down the steps.
The four of them, Ares, Daisy, and her two brothers ducked into the center bailey. It was empty except for Father Lassiter who stood by the chapel door. He waved them over with a broad smile as if he’d just spotted them in a crowd at a festival. They ran over, Daisy barking at him until Weylyn bent down and wrapped her in a hug.
“Glad to see ye,” Father Lassiter said, breathing heavily. He wiped a dusty arm across his forehead, which was smudged with black. He was covered in dirt, bits of hay sticking to his dark coat. Had he been cleaning the chapel? “I thought I’d been completely abandoned when everyone left for the ships and village.”
“Ye are safer here,” Cinnia assured him.
“Have ye seen Bessy Cameron, Father?” Mairi asked.
Father Lassiter pointed across the bailey where Bessy stood in a corner of the inner wall. Eyes wide, she looked close to all-out panic. Mairi turned to go to her, but Father Lassiter’s hand on her arm stopped her. “’Tis my calling to help those afraid for their mortal lives. I will coax her to join us.” He went toward her like a man approaching a frightened foal, while the four of them waited.
Cannon blasts made Bessy jump, and she clasped her hands in the folds of her skirts while the priest spoke to her. His lips moved quickly, and Bessy shook her head. Was she too frightened to follow him?
Millie stood next to Mairi, watching the negotiation. She tugged on Mairi’s sleeve, pulling her gaze. Millie’s brows wrinkled inward, her eyes narrowed as if watching closely. She shook met Mairi’s eyes before quickly swinging her gaze back to the priest and girl. “What is it?” Mairi asked.
Millie shook her head again, pinching her lips. S
he tapped her own throat roughly as if frustrated, obviously wanting to tell Mairi something. “Something is wrong?” Mairi asked.
Millie nodded, looking back to the two of them. Father Lassiter looked angry as Bessy spoke, a pleading look on her face. If she was afraid to move, then he should leave her there. She’d be safe hiding there in the corner.
Millie yanked on Mairi’s sleeve, her hands moving in signals that Mairi couldn’t understand.
“I think he gave up,” Cinnia said, as Father Lassiter came back across the bailey. They stood beside the door into the great hall. Millie yanked the children inside with her. The four dogs and Mairi followed. Once inside, Millie lifted the bar to slide across the door as Father Lassiter pushed against it.
“Millie, let him in,” Mairi said, even though the woman couldn’t hear her.
“Blast it, woman, let me in,” the priest said and pushed harder, forcing it wide open. Daisy barked and showed her teeth. The other dogs came up on Daisy’s sides, growling.
Millie grabbed Mairi’s arm, yanking her behind her.
“The woman is daft,” Father Lassiter yelled over Daisy’s barking and ran a hand over his head. His face was red, and his eyes narrowed. “Shut your yap,” he snapped at the dog, kicking out at her with a boot.
“Don’t kick her,” Weylyn shouted back, leaping forward to drag Daisy away. “She’s just anxious from the attack. They all are. Dogs pick up on danger.”
As Father Lassiter stepped closer, Millie dodged in front of Mairi. Her hand rose up, and Mairi blinked. Good Lord, the woman held a singh dubh, its lethal point trained on the priest. Millie thought Father Lassiter was the danger. Before anyone could move, the old woman lunged toward him, planting her dagger into his arm as if she’d been aiming for his heart.
“Bloody bitch,” Father Lassiter roared and swung his fist around, striking her in the jaw. Her body pitched to the side with the force, and she slammed to the floor. Cinnia screamed.
“Stop,” Bessy yelled from the doorway. “Ye can’t do this.”
Mairi dove for Millie who lay on the floorboards, unmoving. Was she even breathing? She stared back at the priest. “Ye struck an old woman? Father, ye are a man of God.”
“She is insane, and she surprised me,” Father Lassiter said, yanking the blade out of his arm and wrapping it with a holy sash he’d pulled from around his neck. “Get water. In the well room. Go,” he said.
“Nay,” Bessy yelled, but Cinnia and Weylyn had already run into the well room. Ares and Daisy barked at Father Lassiter as the other two dogs stood over Millie on the ground as if guarding her. Bessy tried to grab the priest’s shoulder, but he shook her off, banging her into the wall.
“Who are ye?” Mairi asked, but there was no time for him to answer or even for her to draw her own dagger as he lunged across the hall. He barreled into her, shoving her into the well room. She fell to the floor at the feet of the children. But instead of falling on stone, she was cushioned by hay. Mounds of hay. It filled the room, along with wooden seats Mairi recognized from the chapel.
Weylyn ran at him, but the man caught the boy easily with his good arm and threw him back in. He ducked out through the door where Daisy bit at his feet. “Damn dog,” he hissed, kicking at her as he grabbed a lit torch stuck in a sconce on the side of the doorway.
Mairi glanced around her at the crisp, dry hay. Oh God. Oh, Sweet Lord, save us. She pushed up, running toward the open door, but didn’t make it there before he brandished the torch into the room, touching the flames to the hay on both sides of the doorway. “Nay,” Mairi yelled, hitting his arm, but he threw the torch to the back of the stuffed well room. Mairi gripped the door but couldn’t wrench it free from his hand. Even with one arm injured, he was still stronger than her. Faces close together in the doorway, he slowly forced it closed, even as she leveraged her boot on the stone wall next to it. Cinnia ran up to help, and Weylyn, but they couldn’t grip the door, their hands sliding off a black substance.
“Who are ye? Lucifer disguised as a priest?” Mairi spat. She would know who to damn with her last breath.
His face tightened into a sneer as his lips pulled back, showing little yellow teeth. All traces of a godly man had vanished. “Ye will die, not like Joyce by my blade, but by flame. Long live Angus Cameron, chief of Barra Isle and Kisimul Castle.”
The door slammed shut, sealing them inside. Mairi spun around to see Weylyn and Cinnia wiping their black hands on their clothes, and she realized it was pitch. It was painted all over the walls and door. She dashed forward, stomping at the fire, and the children joined in, but the straw caught on fire faster than they could put it out. The smoke billowed up, filling the tiny room.
Mairi coughed, covering her mouth with a sleeve. “Water.” She leaned over the rectangular stone well, but the bucket was missing. Only the chain hung in the middle, coiled to the top over the gaping black hole. He’d set this all up. Millie must have seen him say something to Bessy, and Bessy had pushed past her fear to try to save them. Had she known all along that the priest was a Cameron? That her brother was plotting to take over Barra? Was Alec battling him now in the village?
Alec. Could he withstand the hell of losing his children in a fiery blaze, the self-condemnation that would beat him bloody for leaving them on Kisimul to be murdered?
“Nay,” she yelled against the crackling inferno building in the room. She couldn’t allow it. Running to the door, Mairi beat on it. “Let us out!” Behind her Cinnia and Weylyn coughed, hacking against the black smoke. “Get down low,” Mairi yelled, and they sank to the straw-scattered floor. Fire licked up the walls, burning hot. The bloody traitor had created an oven inside the well room, an oven meant to bake them to a crisp.
Cinnia crawled over to Mairi, tears streaking down her face. “We’re going to die,” she wailed.
Weylyn threw himself into Mairi’s arms. “The flames are too fast. Too hot.”
Fire licked up the walls to the wooden ceiling. There were no windows. Only the barred door and the…
“Well,” she said. Coughing, she began to drag the children with her toward the rectangular hole in the ground. Weylyn followed, but Cinnia needed to be tugged, her body wracked with coughs. Standing up to lean over, Mairi breathed in the cool, clean air that sat just down inside the stone lip. “Lean in. Breathe,” she said. Weylyn followed her order, but she had to lift Cinnia under her arms, throwing her face over the hole. “Breathe. The air is good down there,” she said into the girl’s hair, and felt her inhale.
Heat singeing her back, Mairi grabbed the chain, throwing it down the dark hole. “What are ye doing?” Weylyn asked, his wide eyes red from the smoke. Ash spots marked his young face.
“It’s the only safe place,” she answered.
He looked between her and the hole and nodded. “Aye.”
“Come on, Cinnia,” Mairi called against the girl, and she stirred. Mairi lifted her to sit her on the edge of the well.
“Where are we going?” Cinnia’s words were rough whispers as if her throat had been scorched already.
Mairi wiped the ashy sweat from the girl’s face. “We’re going down.” Down into the heart of Kisimul.
Chapter Twenty
Where the bloody hell had all these MacInnes come from?
Alec leaped from the ferry that had brought him, his hounds, a score of men, and his horse over from Kisimul. Flames shot up through the thatching on at least three cottages. Screams tore through him as he turned to whistle for Sköll. The horse trotted over, weaving between the chaos, so he could mount.
His men ran into the village, swords drawn to meet those torching the homes and attacking. Women and children fled toward the hills beyond to escape the carnage and smoke. With the pressure of his heel, Sköll turned toward four men who were setting Ruth’s bakery on fire as she tried to hit them with the heavy wood board she used to take bread out of the ovens.
“Run, Ruth,” he yelled. As she took off in another direction, eyes wide
, Alec’s sword swung down in an arc, slicing through two of the men, taking one head and one arm. Turning, Sköll knocked the other two over with his hind quarters, delivering a kick to one that left him unconscious while the other ran off.
Alec jumped off Sköll to battle two more men who came at him, warding off their thrusts easily. One fell to his sword and the other lost his weapon. With a powerful stride, Alec grabbed the man around the throat with his hand, squeezing until the bastard’s eyes bulged. “What the hell are ye doing?”
The man couldn’t speak in Alec’s grip, but he didn’t have to. Beyond him stood another large, barrel-chested warrior. One Alec had known most of his life. And suddenly he knew exactly what was going on. With a surge of fury, Alec threw the man he held toward the flaming wall of the bakery but kept his gaze on his true enemy. Angus Cameron.
Fury burned as brightly within him as the doomed houses around the village square. Muscles taut and blood pumping fast, Alec strode toward the bastard. Angus Cameron was going to die.
Angus stared, a wide smile on his paunchy face. “I’d hoped to do this the easy way after I had my man lure Joyce away from Kisimul. It was easier for him to kill her off that rock fortress of yours.”
Lured away?
“Timid thing,” he said. “Hardly knew what was happening to her.”
Alec’s stomach clenched. Poor Joyce, sent to wed a chief hardly old enough to be called a man. She’d suffered in loneliness at Kisimul, dutifully giving him children despite her sadness. Only to have her throat slit, executed for doing her duty in staying with him. The woman hadn’t abandoned Kisimul and her children after all.
Angus shook his head. “With her gone, ye were supposed to marry my sister before your untimely death, leaving her in the seat of the clan until I came to claim it. But with the Maclean lass about, I’ve decided to kill ye now and take Barra by force.” With that, Angus charged, lifting his claymore high with one hand while holding his wooden targe with the other.
The Wolf of Kisimul Castle (Highland Isles) Page 17