by Maya Banks
She tried to scream but no sound came out. Tears of rage blurred her vision as one of the men fondled her breasts and then tweaked one nipple.
Just before she blacked out, the hand relaxed at her throat and she sucked in deep breaths. As soon as she had enough air, she opened her mouth to scream just as her face exploded in pain again.
He administered methodical, forceful slaps to her face, alternating sides until a haze of pain enveloped her. The other hands continued their lewd groping, twisting, and pawing her like an animal.
Hot tears slipped over her battered cheeks. Never had she felt so helpless in her life. Where was her sword? How was she expected to defend herself?
She would be raped here on her own land, helpless to do anything but lay there and cry.
When she was barely conscious, her attacker leaned in close until his hot, fetid breath blew over her face.
“You’re going to deliver a message to the new laird,” he hissed. “Tell him no McCabe is safe from Duncan Cameron. Not Mairin McCabe or her new daughter. Nor anyone the McCabes call dear. Cameron will destroy all who ally themselves with Ewan McCabe. He won’t rest until Neamh Álainn is his. You can tell him that your pretty face is a token of Duncan Cameron’s esteem.”
He climbed over her, kicking snow on her face as he walked back to his horse.
The sounds of horses crossing the stream filtered through her muddled mind. She tried to raise her head but pain swamped her. Her stomach revolted and nausea boiled up into her throat.
She closed her eyes and took small, steadying breaths until the nausea abated. Then she slowly rolled to her side and lay there for a long moment collecting her strength.
When she tried to get to her knees, she pitched forward. Tears of frustration bit angrily at her eyes. By all that was holy, she had to make it back to the keep even if she had to crawl.
She nearly passed out again when she pushed herself upward. She glanced up the hill and sighed wearily at the seemingly interminable distance.
And then she began to crawl.
CHAPTER 15
“My lady! My lady!”
It took all Rionna’s effort to raise her head and stare ahead, though she couldn’t make out who was yelling. Her right eye was nearly swollen shut and her vision was blurry out of the other one. Her ears still rung from the blows she’d received.
“Dear God, lass, what happened to you?”
“Hugh,” she whispered. She made a feeble attempt to hold the tattered tunic to her breasts.
“Aye, lass, ’tis Hugh. Tell me what happened.”
She licked her lips and tasted blood. “Men.” Her voice was raspy, barely recognizable. Her throat was swollen from the attacker’s grip. “Came across the brook.”
“To arms!” Hugh roared.
Rionna pitched forward, the last of her strength gone as she listened to Hugh shout orders for the men to get to their horses.
“Rionna!”
Gentle hands touched her shoulders and carefully turned her. Then shoved the mass of hair from her swollen face.
“Oh, lass,” Sarah moaned. “What has happened to you?”
“C-Cold. Help me inside.”
“Nay, don’t move. I’ll have one of the men carry you. Does anything feel broken?”
For some reason Rionna found amusement in that. She grinned crookedly and promptly regretted moving any part of her mouth. “Just my face.”
“Mangan, come carry your mistress to her chamber,” Sarah ordered.
Rionna groaned when she was lifted by the burly warrior.
“ ’Tis sorry I am, lass,” Mangan said gruffly. “I don’t mean to hurt you.”
“I’m fine, Mangan. Just a little bruised.”
“ ’Tis disgraceful for a man to abuse a woman so,” he growled.
“Aye, ’tis,” she whispered. She shivered, remembering Caelen’s reaction to her father striking her. He would be furious when he learned of the attack.
Mangan bore her inside and up the stairs, with Sarah and several serving women following along the entire way.
“Put her on the bed. Careful now!” Sarah said briskly. “Neda, fetch me warm water and rags and have hot water brought up for the lass to have a bath. She’s going to catch a chill. Mangan, bring up wood for the fire. I need a brisk flame to warm her.”
Rionna sank onto the bed and moaned softly. Now that she was safe and inside the keep, the battle to remain conscious was lost. The room grew dimmer and dimmer, and despite Sarah’s attempt to keep her awake darkness crowded in and she let go with a weak sigh.
“ ’Tis a fine shot you made,” Caelen said to James as he stood over the fallen stag. “Your father is right. You’ve a steady aim with a bow.”
The younger man grinned in acknowledgment. “That makes two. Three, counting the stag we sent back to the keep. One more and ’twill be enough meat for many weeks to come.”
“Aye, perhaps on the morrow we’ll down another one. ’Tis getting dark. We should seek a place to camp for the night and start a fire.”
Little more than an hour later, the men sat in front of a warm fire with one leg of the stag roasting over the flames. Simon pulled a piece from the bone with his knife and tossed it toward Caelen.
Caelen took a bite and nodded in approval. “ ’Tis a fine piece of venison.”
Simon carved pieces for the rest of the men until the bone was picked clean. Gannon hunkered down next to Caelen and leaned back against the log.
“It’s been awhile since I’ve been on a long hunt. All I’ve done of late is trail after difficult women.”
Caelen snorted and coughed as a piece of meat got stuck in his throat. Gannon pounded him on the back and both laughed.
“ ’Tis the truth I didn’t envy your duty,” Caelen said ruefully. “I took my turn at trailing after Mairin. ’Tis not something I want to do again. I oft wondered what bad thing you’d done to make my brothers choose you to look after their women.”
Gannon shook his head. “And I’ve oft wondered if Cormac got himself married just to avoid the duty.”
Caelen chuckled. “ ’Tis possible, I suppose. You have to admit Mairin ran him ragged.”
Simon took a seat on the other side of Caelen as the rest of the men settled around the fire. “Tell me something, Laird. Do we stand a chance against the might of Duncan Cameron’s army? Would we even be in his sights if we hadn’t allied ourselves with your kin?”
Caelen’s eyes narrowed at the innuendo. “Gregor approached us because he feared Cameron. This alliance was at his instigation.”
“But you benefit.”
“This is not intended as an insult, but the fact of the matter is, Gregor commanded a poor army. The benefit we see from this alliance is the joining of McCabe land on either side. McDonald land was all that separated Neamh Álainn from McCabe keep. But the main benefit is the other lairds who were willing to join with us once Gregor agreed to an alliance. Our strength is in our numbers and the McCabes’ superior fighting force.”
“You’re a cocky lot,” Simon said.
“There isn’t a force who can match our skill,” Caelen said bluntly.
“Then why do you wait to destroy Cameron?” James asked.
“Aye,” one of the other men said as he sat forward. “Why wait?”
The other McDonald men who’d accompanied them on the hunt also leaned forward, taking a keen interest in the turn of the conversation.
“Because patience is required when vanquishing one’s enemy,” Caelen said. “We’ve waited many years to rid the world of Duncan Cameron. He’s a dangerous, ambitious man who will stop at nothing to control all he sees. He’s set his sights on our land. All of our land. We believe he has struck a bargain with Malcolm. If Malcolm leads another rebellion against David and takes the throne, Scotland will once more be split in two. Cameron’s reward will be the highlands. He will in effect be king without the title while Malcolm will rule over Cumbria. No more will lairds rule over their own lands
. Cameron’s power would be absolute. No distinction. No legacy to hold for our children and our children’s children. All would be controlled by him.”
“We cannot allow this,” James muttered.
“Nay, we cannot,” Caelen agreed.
“And what of Gregor? Where has he gone? Where does his loyalty lie?” Simon asked.
Caelen turned his gaze on the older man. “That I do not know. He disappeared with many McDonald men. He was not content with the king’s decree. We must be wary, not only of Cameron but of Gregor as well. He may well try to take back what he believes is rightfully his.”
“We should have voted him out long since,” Simon said grimly. “ ’Tis as much our fault. Aye, he was a poor laird and he did much damage to our clan, but we allowed it and we must answer to God for our sins.”
“ ’Tis not too late to right the wrongs of the past,” Caelen said. “Once we have provided food for our clan, we must turn our focus to strengthening our men. We must send a message to our enemies. We are not an easy conquest.”
Simon leaned back and stared intently at Caelen. “ ’Tis the first time you’ve called it your clan, Laird.”
Caelen’s brows came together. “So it is. Perhaps ’tis settling well with me.”
The men nodded their satisfaction. There was still wariness in their gazes, but Caelen felt as though he’d scored much needed headway with the men he now commanded. His acceptance wouldn’t be overnight, but at least they weren’t ignoring him outright.
Gannon put his hand on Caelen’s arm and put his finger to his lips. The men immediately went quiet. Not waiting to hear for himself what had alarmed his commander, Caelen got to his feet and drew his sword.
The others followed suit, impressing Caelen with their speed and quiet. Perhaps they could be formed into skilled warriors yet.
“Laird! Laird! Laird Caelen!”
Hugh McDonald rode into the encampment, four men right behind him. ’Twas evident the horse had been ridden hard and without rest. Hugh slid from the saddle and staggered in Caelen’s direction.
Caelen resheathed his sword and grabbed the much larger man by his tunic. “What is it, Hugh? What has happened?”
“ ’Tis your wife, Laird.”
Caelen’s blood ran cold. “What mean you?”
Hugh caught his breath. “She was set upon by intruders two days past. They came across the brook between the two lochs. From the forest. They were hiding in the trees.”
Caelen got into Hugh’s face, his pulse pounding harshly at his temples. “Is she all right? Was she hurt? What did they do to her?”
“She was badly beaten, Laird. I know nothing more. I saw her when she crawled back to the courtyard, but I left soon after to pursue her attackers. When I lost their trail, I came directly to find you.”
Caelen thrust him away, his hands shaking as he attempted to collect his thoughts.
“She is alive?”
“Aye, Laird. She was alive when I left. I do not think the injuries were serious enough to cause her death.”
Caelen turned to Gannon. “You ride with me.” Then he gestured at Simon. “You and the others pack the meat and return to the keep at once.”
Gannon strode swiftly to ready the horses and Caelen turned back to Hugh. “Who were they?” he asked in a deadly voice.
“I know not that either, Laird. The lass barely spoke a word. I did not wait for her to relate the tale before I left in pursuit of the ones who launched the attack.”
“You did right, Hugh.”
Simon pushed forward, his expression serious. “Laird, I would ride back with you and Gannon. ’Tis not safe for two men alone.”
Caelen raised one eyebrow. “You seek to protect me?”
Simon paused a moment before he finally answered. “You’re my laird. My duty is to watch your back at all times. I cannot do that if I am left behind.”
“Very well, Simon. I’ll be glad of your escort. Let us make haste so that I may see to my lady wife.”
CHAPTER 16
The sun hadn’t yet risen when Caelen, Gannon, and Simon rode into the courtyard. Caelen was off his horse before it had fully stopped. Sarah met him at the bottom of the steps leading into the keep.
“How is she?” he demanded.
Sarah wrung her hands, her face creased with worry. “Thank God you’ve come home, Laird. I don’t know what to do with her. She’s not left her chamber since the attack. She’s not herself. She won’t eat. She just sits and stares out her window.”
Caelen grasped Sarah’s arms, shaking her from her hysteria. “Is she well? How badly is she hurt?”
Tears shimmered in Sarah’s eyes. “ ’Tis the truth I don’t know what all was done to her. Once she regained consciousness she was so quiet. She refuses any company. She won’t confide in me.”
“I’ll see to her,” Caelen said as he brushed past Sarah.
Dread gripped him as he hurried up the stairs. He realized when he reached the door to his chamber that he was afraid. It was an odd sensation and even odder to admit such. He’d watched his brothers go through hell with the women they loved, but he hadn’t imagined he could feel that same fear that had gripped his brothers.
He shook his head. He’d feel concern for any woman who’d been abused. And outrage that another man had dared to touch what was his.
He stood in the hallway, his hand raised to knock when he realized what he was doing. He dropped his hand and then opened the door.
He’d expected to find her asleep but when his gaze fell over the bed, it was empty. It didn’t look as though she’d slept in it recently. He turned his head, scanning the room to find her sitting by the fire, her head cocked to the side.
His breath caught at the bruises shadowing her face. He could see only her profile, but her eye was swollen and even from across the room he could see fingerprints around her neck.
Carefully he shut the door, not wanting to awaken her. Then he crossed the room so that he could look more closely at her.
Sweet Jesu, but someone had sorely beat the lass. His hands tightened in rage as he stood over her. She looked so fragile. So delicate. How had she ever survived such brutality? Worse, just how much had been done to her?
His stomach heaved as he imagined just what could have occurred. Sarah had said she had closed herself off in her chamber ever since the attack and would confide in no one. Had she been violated?
His hand trembled as he reached out to caress her cheek. Dear God, he couldn’t stand the thought of someone touching her. Of hurting her. He had to sit down on the stone hearth before his legs gave way.
She stirred when his hand left her face. Her eyelids blinked and then she squinted as if opening her right eye had caused her pain.
“Caelen,” she whispered.
“Aye, lass, ’tis me. Are you well? Do you hurt still?”
She licked her lips and then raised a hand to massage her throat. The delicate movement only brought more attention to her fragility, and fury sizzled through him like a whip.
“I’m sore, but I am well. ’Tis nothing serious. Was your hunt successful?”
The formality of their conversation baffled Caelen. ’Twas as if nothing amiss had occurred during his absence and he’d come home to a polite greeting from his wife.
The shadows around her eyes troubled him, for they went deeper than the bruises. The fragility that he’d already noted was more pronounced the longer she was awake. There was something off about her, and now he realized why Sarah was so concerned.
“Rionna,” he began gently. “Can you tell me what happened to you? ’Tis important I know all. Take your time. ’Tis no hurry for ’tis just you and I alone in our chamber. There is naught you can’t tell me.”
Her eyes flickered dispassionately as her gaze rested on him. He wanted to touch her but, God’s teeth, he didn’t know where he could lay hand on her that wouldn’t hurt her.
“I was standing at the brook. When I looked up, I saw men on hors
es across the water. I knew I would never be able to run up the hill before they caught me so I ran along the bank, but they quickly caught up to me.”
He slid his hand over the top of hers where it rested on her lap. He eased his fingers underneath hers and rubbed his thumb along her knuckles. Her hand was tiny in his, and he was reminded of how small and slight she was.
“One knocked me to the ground and backhanded me. I put my fingers in his eyes and scratched him.”
“Good,” Caelen said gruffly.
“I escaped a moment but was caught by another man.”
For the first time, her voice wavered, fringed with emotion as she broke off and fixed her stare into the fire.
“ ’Twas naught I could do,” she whispered. “He hit me. He tore my clothing. He … touched me,” she choked out.
Caelen went completely still. He tried to swallow but couldn’t manage it. “Did he rape you?”
She turned her gaze back on him, her eyes wide and startled. “Nay. He groped my breasts. He bruised me and humiliated me. He gave me a message for you.”
Relief that she hadn’t been molested was tempered by the fact that she’d still been sorely abused. And now it appeared as though it had all happened because someone wanted to hurt what was his.
“Tell me his message.”
“He said that no McCabe is safe from Duncan Cameron. Not Mairin. Not Isabel. Not anyone who a McCabe calls dear. He said to tell you that my face is a token of Cameron’s esteem.”
He ground his teeth together so hard that he feared breaking them. His jaw ached as he tried valiantly to keep his rage at bay. His wife needed gentleness and understanding from him. Not a warrior bent on killing everyone in his path.
“What then, Rionna?” he asked gently.
Her eyes found his again, so dark and troubled. There was shame and pain in the golden depths. She looked … beaten. Not just in body, but in spirit. It was like a dagger to his gut.
“They left and I crawled up the hill to the courtyard. I don’t remember much else.”
His chest hurt. His stomach heaved. The idea that his proud, spirited wife was beaten so badly that she had to crawl on the ground like an animal. Crawl.