My Highland Rebel

by Amanda Forester

  He removed himself from the tub and helped Jyne out, wrapping her in the robe she had brought for him and grabbing the plaid for himself. Now for the hardest part. The farewell. If everything went according to plan, he would never see her again.

  “Brother Luke will be leaving in the morning. Ye’ll allow him to return ye to yer people,” he said.

  Jyne frowned at him. “I’m only leaving because I made ye a promise.”

  “I would ask ye for yet more.”

  “Ye dare ask more o’ me?”

  “I would ask that ye allow my sister to accompany ye back to yer clan. If ye would provide her sanctuary, it would be a blessing to her. And to me.”

  “O’ course I will. I swear she will be safe. But what o’ the Ranalds?”

  “Aye, I’ve thought o’ them. If things go according to plan, they will be safe too.”

  “But what will ye do?” she asked.

  Core stared at the ground, the words stuck in his teeth. “After this is over, I’m leaving.”

  “Leaving? Where?”

  “I dinna ken. Somewhere far away where I might start over.”

  “But what about…me?”

  “I’m sorry, m’lady. Where I go, ye canna go. And where ye go, I canna be. We have no place together. We are too different.”

  Jyne’s lips parted as if he had slapped her. The look of betrayal cut him to the quick.

  He tried to explain. “Please, believe that if there was any other way…I need to keep us both safe.”

  “Safe!” She brushed away a tear with an impatient hand. “I dinna want to be safe. I want to be wi’ ye!”

  “I canna be wi’ ye, if it puts ye at risk. I canna do it.”

  “Coward!”

  “True.”

  “When are ye leaving?”

  “Tonight.”

  Jyne blinked, and more tears fell.

  He would have rather cut off a limb than watch her cry, but this was the only way to get her out of harm’s way. At this point, her safety was the only thing that mattered to him.

  “I’m sorry,” he said softly. “I am so sorry.”

  “I hate ye.”

  “Good, then ye winna spend any time missing my sorry presence. Come, let me walk ye back to yer chamber.”

  “I can do it alone.”

  He walked her back anyway. There was not far to go, for her chamber was only two stories above the makeshift bathing room. She reached her doorway, stepped inside, and slammed the door in his face.

  Cormac stared at the wooden door. Was that how it was going to end? From within, he could hear the muffled sounds of crying. A lump formed in his throat, and he hastily wiped away something that had gotten in his eyes.

  This was all part of his plan.

  It truly was a horrible plan.

  And it was about to get worse.

  * * *

  It was fortunate that Core had gotten sleep during the day, for he was certainly not getting sleep during the night. He gathered his experiments, the bottles of saltpeter, sulfur, and other ingredients, and mixed them carefully to create more of the black powder. He laid out small charges in the courtyard. If he was going to do this, he might as well make it memorable. In truth, he was counting on it to be memorable, and for all to tell his father the grim tale.

  After the courtyard was prepared, he went down to the crypt. It was almost dawn, and he needed to get everything prepared. He began to carefully mix the exact proportions of saltpeter and sulfur, taking care to stay well away from the torch he had brought.

  “What is this ye’re doing?” asked Donnach, waking up. He sat up and stretched, pushing back the blankets from his fresh pallet.

  “Alchemy,” returned Core over his shoulder.

  Donnach washed his hands and face in a basin of water and prepared himself for the day. Over the past few days, thanks to Core and Brother Luke, Donnach’s cell had been transformed. It now boasted all the amenities of any good chamber, except a key to turn the lock. Core had ensured that Donnach was well supplied with food and drink, and even emptied his chamber pot.

  Donnach sat on a chair and began to leaf through an ornately engraved book, no doubt courtesy of Brother Luke. “What are ye doing wi’ alchemy? And when might I expect my breakfast?”

  “Sorry, too busy to serve ye today.” Core set the charges, making sure the powder was just right. “I’ll be showing everyone the power o’ the Fire Lord.”

  Donnach snapped the book shut. “Fire Lord? Ye’re no’ fooling about wi’ that thunder and lightning sacrilege that ripped a hole through the postern gate, are ye?”

  Core turned to him. “How would ye ken about that?”

  “I heard it, dinna I? And Brother Luke told me o’ the damage. I dinna want any o’ that here. Take it away!”

  “It will be fine. Just dinna toss any sparks this way.”

  Donnach jumped up and rattled the bars on the gate. “Ye let me out now! If ye care to kill me, come do it like a man!”

  “I’m no’ trying to kill ye,” soothed Cormac. “I assure ye, I’ll let ye go at the right time, so ye can run away. Ye’re right. ’Tis time for ye to fetch the Laird Campbell.” He turned back to his work. “I think there will be enough time,” he muttered.

  “Ye think? Ye’re not sure? Let me out!” Donnach rattled the cage harder, the loud clanging echoing off the cavern walls.

  “I will, I will. But if I let ye out now, ye’ll just hurt me.”

  “I swear I’ll rip ye apart!”

  “Well, ye’re going to have to wait. Now remember—no sparks.” Cormac left Donnach hollering and threatening and banging on the bars of his cage.

  Cormac quietly crept back to the tower. The sun’s rays had not yet broken over the horizon, but he needed to move quickly to get everything prepared. Despite his haste, he paused on the second floor, outside the door to Jyne’s room. Was she sleeping? Did she still hate him?

  Core forced his feet to move up one more flight of circular stairs to his own solar.

  “’Tis my turn to wake ye.” Core shook Luke.

  The monk blinked a few times in the predawn gloom. “What are you about now?”

  “I have a plan. I need ye to take Breanna and Jyne back to her clan. Jyne has agreed to ask her brother for sanctuary for Breanna. She should be safe there. Ye need to leave this morn.”

  Brother Luke sat up straight. “And what of you?”

  Cormac sighed. “The Fire Lord needs to die.”

  Luke stared at him. “What are you saying?”

  “My father is determined to see me become some ruthless warlord like himself and will destroy anything and anyone I care for to make me serve him. Ye’re right. Once he learns o’ my power to destroy, he winna stop but use it to harm others.”

  Luke frowned at him. “What are you going to do?”

  “If I am dead, it all stops. The monks are safe. The books are safe. Jyne is safe.”

  Luke rose with a deep frown etched on his face and put a hand on his shoulder. “My friend, to take your own life, it is not right. There must be another way.”

  Cormac shook his head. “There is no other way. The Fire Lord must die. Though…if I do it right, I hope to live to die again some other day.”

  Luke’s frown turned to confusion. “I do not follow you.”

  “I plan to set a blast that will convince all that I am dead.”

  “But you will not be?”

  “I hope not. Then I will run far and fast. Mayhap Florence will suit me better than it did ye.”

  “And Jyne?”

  Cormac took a breath. “Jyne will return home wi’ an adventure to rival her siblings’. In time, I hope she will remember me fondly. But the important thing is that she will be safe.”

  “And the truth about you?” asked Luke.
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  “Tell her,” said Cormac firmly. “She will not suffer heartache if she hates me. But wait till ye get her safe.”

  “As you wish,” said Luke with a nod.

  “Hurry now. Red Rex may come at any time. I’ve met wi’ Ranald and told him to get his people moving, at least the ones who can travel. The sooner ye leave, the better.”

  “But my books…”

  Core shook his head. “We must hope for the best. Will ye leave the books to protect the lives of—”

  “Of course I will,” interrupted Luke. “What do you take me for?” He thrust his feet into boots and prepared himself for the day. “Though I may be able to take a few in flight—”

  “When Red Rex arrives, there will be naught here but stories o’ my glorious death. Bran has already told him my story about the treasure was false. He will come to take out his vengeance on me, but with me dead, there will be little point. I warrant he will leave the Ranalds and the books alone. I fear he may put the monastery to the torch, but at least the monks and the books will no’ be inside. Later, when he is gone, ye can return for yer scrolls.”

  Luke nodded slowly. “I hope ye’re right.”

  “Just leave now. I’ve said my farewells to Jyne. Convey to Breanna that I wish her well.”

  “I wish for you the same.” Much to Cormac’s surprise, Luke embraced him warmly, then kissed both cheeks. It was more affection than he had ever displayed. It was more emotion than Cormac thought Luke capable of feeling.

  Cormac grabbed the large cloak and horned helm, the trappings of the Fire Lord. He would not be sorry to see them go. He nodded a farewell to Luke and went back downstairs. He had not made it far before he was accosted by the enraged figure of his sister.

  “What did ye do to her?” Breanna demanded, standing before him on the stone stairs, her hands on her hips, her eyes blazing like fire.

  “Is she no’ well?” he asked with true anxiety.

  “She cried herself to sleep, that’s what. Now what fool thing did ye do?”

  “I tricked her into agreeing to leave. Rex is coming. She needs to be gone before he arrives.”

  Breanna’s face sobered in an instant. “Aye, she does. I would’na wish to see her hurt.”

  “Aye. Ye both need to be gone. Brother Luke will take ye both to the Campbell. Jyne has agreed to ask for sanctuary for ye.”

  Breanna stared at him and blinked back emotion welling up in her eyes. “Ye did that for me? I always thought in the end, I’d have to marry that old fool.”

  “O’ course I did that for ye. Why would ye doubt me?”

  “No’ doubt ye. I just know our father. I wish I could find all my sisters and protect them in the same way.” Breanna took a deep breath, as if a great weight had been lifted. “I canna believe ye did this for me.”

  “Ye’re my sister,” Cormac said with a shrug.

  Breanna shook her head. “Half sister. Yer mother was a lady. Mine was…well, she wasna a lady, I can tell ye that. I’m just the bastard child of a warlord.”

  “Ye’re my sister,” Cormac said firmly.

  “And a fine lady,” added Brother Luke, coming down the stairs.

  “Take care o’ them, and get them clear o’ Kinoch as soon as may be.”

  “What shall I tell Jyne?” asked Breanna.

  “Tell her…tell her I love her. Nay, tell her I’m sorry. Nay…I dinna ken. She doesna understand the danger she’s in. Just, dinna tell her anything. The sooner she forgets me, the better.”

  “Will ye forget her?”

  “Nay. I will never forget.”

  Twenty-nine

  “Cormac told us to move quickly,” said Brother Luke, grabbing another armload of books.

  “Aye, but would ye leave these behind? Red Rex loves to burn books,” said Breanna, carrying out a load herself.

  “Does he?” asked Jyne, seizing more books to carry.

  “So I’ve been told,” said Breanna quickly.

  Jyne hustled out of the side door of the chapel where all the books had been stashed and carried them out the postern gate to where the cart was hiding. Leaving brought mixed emotions. She did not wish to abandon her post or the Ranalds, but she was a Campbell and would honor her word. Besides, somewhere out there was Cormac, and she still held hope that somehow they could be together again.

  She had met with Alasdair, who was already helping to pack those who could travel to join the children. He would stay with those who could not leave. She said a tearful farewell to Alasdair, Cook, and the others. She did not wish to leave them, but she knew she had no other choice. Also, they may be better able to avoid notice if she was not among them.

  “What about the children we took to the crofters’ huts?” she asked Breanna and Brother Luke. “Should we take them wi’ us?”

  “Do ye ken yer brother would be open to helping them also?” asked Breanna.

  “O’ course he would!” exclaimed Jyne. “We’ve never turned aside a person in need, and none in our clan ever know hunger, at least not when it is within our power to prevent it.”

  “Ah, then let’s take them wi’ us,” said Breanna with a wide smile.

  “They would slow us down considerably,” warned Brother Luke. He shook his head. “I probably should not take the books, but to leave them here…”

  “Nay, the books must be moved. Red Rex will burn them,” said Breanna firmly. “I doubt he will care about orphans living in huts a few miles away. They can mean nothing to him. Taking them wi’ us might put them at more risk.”

  “Agreed,” said Jyne reluctantly, for she knew Breanna was right. “When we tell my brother where Red Rex is, he will certainly ride here with his warriors to put an end to him. I hope we can return here soon, for my brother canna be far.” The thought that Donnach had not been able to deliver the message was one too terrible to entertain.

  “He can certainly try,” muttered Breanna. “Red Rex is as slippery as an eel.”

  They were almost finished loading the books when loud popping pierced the quiet dawn, shattering the calm and sending hundreds of birds loudly squawking into flight.

  “What in the world was that?” cried Jyne.

  “’Tis the Fire Lord up to something,” grumbled Luke.

  “Finish what ye’re doing. I’ll go check.” Jyne grabbed her bow and a quiver of arrows that Brother Luke had managed to return to her for her journey home.

  “Nay, m’lady!” cried Breanna.

  “Please, stay here!” insisted Brother Luke, but Jyne paid them no heed. If the Fire Lord had decided to hurt her friends, she would stay and defend them, promise or no promise.

  Jyne ran into the chapel and out the door to a passage that led back outside or to the sleeping quarters of the marauders. Something was happening in the inner courtyard; she could hear it.

  Not wanting to be seen, she slipped into the old passageway of the converts and ran down the dark, narrow passage, trailing her fingertips to the wall to prevent herself from crashing into anything. She crawled out the other side and dashed into the east storeroom. From there, she could peek from behind the door to see what was happening.

  The Fire Lord, in his bulky bearskin cloak and his monstrous horned helm, stood with his back toward her in the middle of the once-peaceful courtyard. He held a torch high in one hand. His men and the few elders left were gathered on the other side of the courtyard, watching him.

  “I have heard ye doubt my knowledge and my power!” the Fire Lord accused. “Some o’ ye doubt I know where the Templar treasure is. To these, I only have one message.” He lowered his torch for a moment, and something on the ground began to sparkle and spit, running along the ground until it flashed lightning with a huge clap of thunder.

  Jyne clapped her hands over her ears in surprise at the loud noise and stepped back farther into the storeroom.


  “Dinna ever doubt me again!” roared the Fire Lord.

  Jyne was inclined not to. He was truly a wicked demon. She could not wait to have her brother put an end to his existence.

  A sudden banging sound from below her feet, followed by the wail of the undead, filled her with a gripping fear. Had the Fire Lord awoken the ghost of the old tower? She frowned at herself. She had created that story. She could not let it terrify her. But something was making quite a racket in the crypt.

  “I will go now and show ye the treasure that has been sealed in this keep. Prepare to be amazed!” shouted the Fire Lord. More bangs and roars of his particular demonic power rang in her eardrums and shook the very stones around her.

  She grabbed a lit torch from the wall and wrenched open the trapdoor in the floor, revealing a stone staircase leading down. The banging and hollering was louder now, almost sounding like a man.

  She carefully made her way down the stairs and around a bend in the passage, which opened into a larger cavern. The cave had been hewn from the stone in sharp, angular strokes. Minerals in the rock sparkled in the light of her flickering torch. On the far end was an iron-bar gate, and within stood a man.

  “Donnach!” She ran to her clansman, who was locked behind the gate. Donnach was here? Then nobody had run for help? Her heart sank to her shoes.

  “Lady Jyne!” he exclaimed in surprise. “Are ye well, m’lady? Ye should no’ be here.”

  “Och, Donnach, did that bastard lock ye in here? I swear to ye, I will avenge ye.”

  “Nay, lass, ye must go. ’Tis no’ safe here.”

  “Jyne!”

  Jyne spun around to face the Fire Lord himself.

  “How dare ye!” she demanded. “How dare ye lock my kinsman in a crypt! I will see ye hanged for this and all yer other crimes!”

  The Fire Lord held up his hands, showing her that he was holding a key. “Ye’re right. I am a wicked, horrible man. I will unlock the gate now.” The Fire Lord spoke slowly and calmly, as if trying not to spook her. The torch in her hand flickered, its orange light dancing against the walls of the cavern.