A Highlander’s Homecoming

by Melissa Mayhue

“And just where is it yer so anxious to take me?” she asked as the child tugged at her hand again.

  “To rescue Robbie, of course.”

  Oh, for the simple thoughts of a child. “I dinna see how that would be possible, Jamie. The MacDowylt has named himself laird and has his men in place everywhere.” There was even one in the hallway outside. She’d seen the man when Malcolm had left her here. “How did you get past the guard to get in here?”

  “That’s just it. That’s why we have to go now. The one that saved me and another man, they were talking in the room while I ate. They dinna think I listened, but I did,” he boasted. “All the guards save the ones on the front gates have been called to the great hall to meet with the MacDowylt himself this night. The guards and all the castle staff. The man said he worried that their prisoners might escape through the side exit, the one we use to get to the fields, but he said the MacDowylt himself had ordered it to be so and that it should be no problem because the prisoners wouldna ken there were no guards about.”

  Isa paused for only a moment. It seemed too good to be true, but she wasn’t going to question her luck. As Jamie said, they had precious little time and this could well be their only chance.

  Allowing him to pull her forward, she scanned the hallway in both directions. Empty, just as Jamie had said it would be. As quietly as possible, she ran with the child, to the end of the hall and down the stairs.

  At the first floor, she peeked around the corner of the stairway, holding her breath in anticipation of some large man with an even larger sword waiting there. None to be seen, but she could hear the sounds of voices coming from the direction of the great hall, confirming what Jamie had overheard the men talking about.

  “Come on,” she whispered, leading him toward the old storage room and the dank, dark little steps she remembered finding as a child. The passageway to the dungeon.

  Her grandfather had warned her to stay away from the pit and told her it had seen its last use before he was born—that his own father had sealed it shut and shut it would stay as long as he lived.

  Obviously if Roland had no problem with murdering her grandfather, he’d have no problem reopening the nasty dungeon pit.

  The shortest route to the storage room lay through the kitchens, and as they stepped inside, Isa found herself slowing down, amazed at the stillness.

  “Do you ever remember finding the kitchens with no a soul in them? No even one person to tend the fires?”

  Jamie shook his head, tugging at her hand again. “It’s as the MacDowylt ordered. Hurry, before they finish and return.”

  As he said, there was no time to linger.

  Isa snatched up a lantern hanging by the fireplace and lit it before heading back into the tiny cubby where they’d find the entrance to the storage room. Together they lifted the heavy wooden door and climbed down into the dark.

  She paused at the bottom of the steps, trying to get her bearings. It had been well over twenty years since she’d been down here.

  “This is no place for a wee lass to be playing,” her grandfather had said when he’d found her peering into the black abyss of the dungeon. If you fall into the pit, you’ll be stuck until someone comes down and hears you calling. It’s too deep for even a grown man to climb out.”

  She’d done as he asked and left this place at the time, more because of the forbidding black depths she’d seen and the hideous smell rising up through the bars of the metal grate.

  The smell. That was the key.

  “Sniff the air, Jamie. We look for a stench something like a garderobe.

  “I ken what you search for, Isa. It’s over here.” Jamie ran into the dark, away from the glow of her lantern, his awkward limp exaggerated by the shadows. “Look,” he called excitedly. “I’ve found it here but I canna move the barrel that blocks it.”

  Following the sound of his voice, she reached the spot and set her lantern on a nearby crate.

  “Bollocks,” she muttered, putting her shoulder against the large barrel. What was she going to do now?

  God, but he hated dark little holes.

  Robert tried to lick his lips, but his tongue felt glued to the roof of his mouth, sticky and heavy. Lack of food and water were making themselves felt. That and the ever-worsening wound in his side.

  He should have eaten last night instead of wandering out to stare off into the night. Ah, but that had led to Isa coming out to find him, and for the night they’d shared he’d gladly starve to death.

  No! He was a long way from starving. He’d done without food for far longer periods of time. Food and water. He wasn’t about to give up now.

  He needed to stand, to move around through the black. That should convince him his cell was larger than it seemed.

  Using the rough stone wall for support, he dragged himself to his feet while holding his chest, panting as he did so. He moved slowly, one heavy step after another, finding no corners. That told him he was either in a space so enormous he’d not yet traversed one wall or, more likely, he was in a round hole.

  From the feel of the wall, this place had been hewn directly from the rock, giving even more credence to the round hole theory. In spite of that, he knew there had to be openings of some sort in here somewhere. He’d heard the scurried scratching of small animals. Rats, likely. Filthy, disgusting, disease-carrying rats.

  “At least I’ve no call to fash myself over that,” he muttered, continuing to follow the wall around. From the burn and swelling in his old wound, he knew it wouldn’t be diseased rats that would bring about his death. No, he could thank the Faerie Magic for the fate awaiting him. A fate he didn’t intend to give in to until he’d found a way out of this place and delivered Isa safely into the care of his family.

  More scratching, a scraping from somewhere in the dark. Cocking his head to the side, he listened intently, but heard nothing more. The silence pounded at his ears, and he felt as if the walls were pressing in on him.

  Had to keep moving. Had to keep up the pretense of more room than he knew what to do with.

  The dark confined space had obviously disoriented his brain. It had sounded as if the noise came from the ceiling, but rats didn’t live on the ceiling. That was impossible.

  Unless he were already hallucinating. Or his cell mates were bats.

  Or Faeries.

  And where were the damned Fae when he really needed them? “No a fucking Faerie to be found down here,” he yelled into the darkness, stumbling to one knee with the effort.

  As if in answer to his angry call, a pale yellow light seemed to flicker into the darkness, from above, directly ahead of him.

  Now wouldn’t that be just his luck? To piss off some wandering Faerie.

  As if there were anything left they could do to him.

  “Take yer best shot, you Faerie bastards,” he called, lurching toward the light.

  “Robbie? Are you down there?”

  Isa? He shook his head, struggling back to his feet. Not possible. She was prisoner somewhere in the castle proper.

  “Robert MacQuarrie!” the disembodied Isa demanded. “I ken you have to be down there. I hear you moving about. Answer me, dammit!”

  “Isa?”

  He stumbled toward the light, looking directly up into it. Her face, her beautiful face hovered above the grated opening.

  “Isa?” He whispered this time, fearful of speaking out loud lest the apparition disappear.

  “He’s there! Help me get this open.”

  “Look, Isa. There’s a rope just up there.”

  He’d swear that was little Jamie’s voice. Now that was impossible. He must be hallucinating because Jamie had been burned alive in that . . .

  His throat tightened and he fought for air, feeling as if he might be reduced to blubbering like some dainty girl at any moment.

  That infernal scraping sound again!

  He looked up to see the grate disappearing as it was dragged away from the opening.

  “Stand back so
I dinna hit you with this. I’ve tied it off on this end, but you’ll have to climb. Please tell me you can climb, aye?”

  For Isa? Anything.

  Whether this was hallucination or reality no longer mattered. He was going for it.

  He pulled on the rope, testing, hoping it would hold his weight. Then, one hand after another, he lifted himself up the long rope, ignoring the searing pain in his chest.

  When he reached the top, hands grabbed at his clothing, helping him over the edge. For a long moment he lay there, catching his breath.

  “Come on, Robbie, on yer feet. We’ve no time.”

  He pushed to his knees and looked up. There before him, like angelic visions, Isa and Jamie waited.

  Had he died in that hole?

  Allowing them to help him to his feet, he decided not to look back down. Just in case.

  He reached out and pulled Jamie to him, hugging the boy tightly. “How?” he asked, looking over at Isa.

  “Later,” was all she said, her face pinched with anxiety as she urged him forward.

  His legs didn’t seem to want to cooperate, and it was all he could manage to drag himself up the narrow wooden steps and out into the kitchens. By the time they made it across the big room and out the door, he was panting with the effort. Isa situated herself next to him, and draped his arm over her shoulder, helping to support his weight. He didn’t want to lean on her, but he could think of no other way.

  Too slow. They’d never make a successful escape like this.

  They’d made it outside the castle and were nearing the little gate that led out to the fields when Jamie veered off to one side.

  “This way, Jamie,” Isa panted, shifting his arm on her shoulder.

  “No, Isa,” the child called, limping steadily away. “Bronco’s tethered out here. I heard the men say so.”

  “Bronco?”

  “My horse.” Robert had told Jamie about raising Bronco from a colt while they’d worked together on the fence. “I’m a hard-core Denver fan,” he added with a chuckle, though even he’d be forced to admit his comment lost any trace of humor ending in that wheezy grunt. Damn, but his chest hurt.

  “I’ve no idea about this ‘hard-core,’ but yer hard to understand, I’ll say that for you,” she muttered in return. “Now why do you suppose they’d have left yer animal all alone, way out here?”

  Before he could even consider her question, Jamie returned, leading Robbie’s horse along behind him.

  It took a few extra moments, and an argument with Isa about her walking while he rode, but soon enough both he and Jamie sat on Bronco’s back, with Isa leading them through a deserted side gate.

  With a little more of this kind of luck, they might even have a chance.

  Chapter 27

  At this rate, they didn’t stand a chance.

  Isa winced as she stepped into yet another hole on the rutted road, twisting her foot once more. It had happened so many times as they made their way through the night, she’d given up counting. She was certainly no stranger to putting in a hard day’s work, but the distance they’d traveled so far had taken its toll. Her shins ached and the muscles in the backs of her legs felt as if they’d knotted themselves into hard little lumps of pain.

  She’d been so grateful to see the sun rise this morning, lighting her way at last, she’d come close to forgetting how tired she felt.

  Glancing back at the horse she led, she almost wished it were still dark. Jamie’s cheeks were stained a feverish pink, his small head bobbing with each step the animal took. Without a doubt, the child was asleep sitting up.

  And Robbie! She couldn’t begin to imagine what kept him upright in the saddle.

  An involuntary shudder ran through her body. She’d promised herself that as soon as the sun came up she was stopping to have a look at the place he clutched on his chest, but from the circles under his tightly closed eyes and the sweat on his brow, she feared she’d not be able to get him back up on the horse if he once climbed down.

  Again she stumbled, her legs numb with fatigue, the pain of her hours on her feet creeping up into her lower back.

  “You need to rest, Isa.” Robbie must have caught her looking back at him. “And I need off this animal before I fall off. There’s tree cover over there.”

  She thought to protest, but he was already swinging his long leg over the back of his mount. He hit the ground with a grunt, doubling over.

  Dropping the lead she held, she ran to his side and slid under his arm on his good side. Together they managed to get him to a grassy area and she helped him to sit up against a large tree.

  Jamie slid off the great horse right into her arms when she tugged on his leg, and she wondered if he even woke up. When she laid him on the ground next to Robbie, he curled onto his side, all without ever opening his eyes.

  She led the horse over to where they sat and looped his lead around a bush before dropping to her knees by Robbie.

  “Move yer hand. I want to see what those bastards did to you.”

  He shook his head to deny her but didn’t resist when she pushed his hand away and tugged his shirt up.

  “Holy Mother,” she whispered before she thought, glancing to his face guiltily when she realized she’d spoken aloud.

  “That bad, huh?” His eyes were closed so she had no means of guessing what he was thinking.

  Bad? It was the worst thing she’d ever seen. Like a wound freshly closed, the skin was swollen and bruised, with what looked like a newly formed scab covering a jagged cut between his ribs. Heat from the wound assaulted her fingers, hovering over the site.

  When she looked up again, he was watching her intently, his expression telling her more than she wanted to know. If she could only fill the silence with her talk, she wouldn’t have to hear the words she could see in his eyes. If she didn’t allow him to say it, it still wouldn’t be real.

  “We’ve come such a long way this night. We passed the crossroads hours ago, so we’re doing just fine. After we rest for bit, we’ll start out again. I’m sure we’ll find water soon, and we can wash that wound properly.” She would have continued, but he covered her hand with his palm and the mark on her skin came alive, stealing whatever thoughts she might have expressed.

  “It’s time to face the facts of our situation. The wound is growing worse. We need to go over what yer to do if I should lose consciousness, aye? No matter what happens, you must give me yer promise that you and Jamie will get to MacQuarrie Keep. ”

  “Of course we’ll get there. Together. All three of us.” They had to. She couldn’t bear the thought of anything else. “With you to lead us.”

  “As far as we have yet to travel, there could very well come a time when I willna be able to lead. With one of us walking, our progress is slow and Bronco canna carry all three.”

  Desperation clouded her thoughts but fueled her tongue. There must be a way. “In that case, you go on ahead with Jamie. I’ll wait here. You can come back for me.”

  He made a clucking noise with his tongue that reminded her of her chickens at their feed.

  “Surely you ken I’d never leave you behind. No for any reason. As you say, we’ll go on together, but you must be prepared for whatever is to come. Just in case.”

  “Dinna say that!” she ordered sharply, covering her mouth with her hand when Jamie’s body jerked in response to her words.

  Robbie picked up a stick and began scratching in the dirt next to his leg. “I’m drawing you a map. You’ll need to memorize it exactly for when I canna direct you there.”

  “Dinna you even think of such things.” Surely he wasn’t giving up. She wouldn’t let him. “We will make it there together. All of us. We’ll find help. We’ll make it to a village and find a healer.”

  Robbie leaned his head back against the tree and closed his eyes, as if holding his head up took more effort than he could manage. “I’ve traveled this way recently, remember? We’re too far from any village to count on help. It’s r
eality we must deal with now. Study the map I’ve drawn. It’ll be you who must find the way if I’m no able. It’s time to use yer logic, no yer emotions, love.”

  “If no a village, then someone traveling on the road. We will find help.” They had to. Logic be damned. She didn’t want to hear anything else.

  He lifted his hand, stroking the back of his fingers down her cheek before covering her hand with his again. “As much as I want yer words to be true, Isa, as much as I might wish for someone to come along to help us, you need to deal with what is, no what you want things to be. Make yer peace with that now. Our fate will likely be in yer hands before our journey is ended. You must be prepared for that.”

  Beside Robbie, Jamie sat up, rubbing his knuckles against his eyes. “Are we almost there?”

  “No,” she and Robbie answered simultaneously.

  “Are we lost?”

  “Of course we’re no lost,” Isa answered quickly, seeing the fear on the child’s face. “We’ve only stopped to allow Bronco a wee rest. We’ll be back on our way soon, dearling, but for now, perhaps you’d best try to sleep a little more.”

  Sleep was the only answer she had at the moment. Sleep so he wouldn’t remember how hungry he might be. Or how thirsty. Or how much pain he must be in with his own injuries. Sleep so he wouldn’t ask the questions she couldn’t answer.

  “Are they going to travel with us?”

  Isa slowly turned her head to look in the direction Jamie pointed. In the distance and closing, two wagons rumbled along. And now that she listened, she could hear the metal rattle that accompanied their passage.

  “Tinklers,” she breathed, pushing up to stand. “Thank the saints. Robbie, look, it’s those Tinklers.”

  Robert opened his eyes, blinking in disbelief as Isa ran down the road toward the approaching wagons. Though he hardly had the energy to smile, he couldn’t remember a time more deserving of great blustery guffaws of laughter. How like the Fae. Bring him right up to the edge and then dangle the carrot in front of him, even though they all knew the Magic would have its own way in the end.

  Still, he felt grateful, in spite of what would likely be. The arrival of the Tinklers offered hope to Isa and to him as well.