“Glynis! Sorcha!” The answering silence closed in on him.
His boots echoed on the stone steps as he climbed the stairs to the bedchambers above. Would he find them dead? His wife’s body, broken and used by the foul men who had destroyed their home? Alex did not think he was strong enough for that, but he kept walking.
When he pushed their bedchamber door, it creaked open slowly, revealing the room inch by inch. In contrast to the rest of the keep, the bedchamber was neat and tidy. It looked as if Glynis had just stepped out.
Except for her dirk lying in the middle of the floor.
Alex sank to his knees and picked it up. There was no blood on it, praise God. But if Glynis and Sorcha were not here, that meant the pirates and Magnus had taken them—and their purpose could only be evil. Alex had to find his wife and daughter before they were harmed, but he did not know where to look.
Alex pounded the floor with his fists. “Where did they take ye?” he shouted. “Where? Where?”
A creak right next to him brought him upright. When he saw his wee daughter standing in the chest holding the top up, Alex swept her up into his arms. He ran his hands over her to assure himself the fairies were not playing tricks on his eyes, and then he held her tightly against him. Sweet Jesus and all the angels, thank ye.
Alex thought he heard a small voice in his ear, saying, “Aye.”
He leaned back. “Was that you, Sorcha?”
She looked at him with her clear eyes and nodded. In the midst of a day of dread and despair, the miracle of hearing his daughter’s sweet voice for the first time overwhelmed him.
“What was that ye said, mo chroí?” Alex asked, as he brushed her hair back with his fingers.
“Eye.” He had thought she was saying aye before, but this time when she said the word she rested the point of her finger next to her eye.
“Did something happen to your eye?” he asked.
“That’s where the bad man took Mother.”
His daughter spoke in perfect Gaelic, but Alex had no idea what she meant.
“Eye snort,” Sorcha said. “That’s where the bad man said he was taking her.”
Eye snort? What in the name of heaven was…
“Eyenort Loch?” he asked. “On South Uist?”
“South Uist,” Sorcha repeated, and nodded.
Alex gave her a big kiss on her forehead. “What a blessing ye are.”
“Mother called him Magnus,” Sorcha said. “She doesn’t like him.”
“That’s verra helpful, little one,” Alex said, keeping his voice calm with an effort. “Do ye remember anything else?”
“Another bad man came, and they argued.”
“Did ye hear the second man’s name?”
Sorcha gave him a solemn nod. “Hugh.”
“Ye did verra, verra well,” Alex said as he started down the stairs with her. “Now I must leave ye with Bessie while I go fetch your mother.”
“Bring her home,” Sorcha said, hugging his neck.
“I will.”
Alex had just had one miracle. And now he needed another.
CHAPTER 53
I’ll let your husband stew for a few days,” Hugh said, as he tied her wrists to the mast. “I need my bait live ’til then, so I’m leaving a man here to guard ye from Magnus. Ye made an enemy with that one, lass, though I can’t say I blame ye for sticking a blade in him. Magnus is an arse.”
“Aithníonn ciaróg ciaróg eile,” Glynis said. A beetle recognizes another beetle.
Hugh hit her so hard across the face that Glynis saw stars and swayed on her feet.
“Mind that tongue of yours if ye want to keep it,” he said.
She had been foolish to goad him—her stepmother always told her that she did not know when to be quiet. Because Hugh had protected her from Magnus, she’d relaxed her guard around him. She’d do well to remember that Hugh was a ruthless man who killed innocents and stole food from the mouths of children.
“If Magnus sets foot on my boat against my orders, kill him,” Hugh said to the man with him. “I could use another boat.”
While Hugh hoisted himself over the side of the galley, Glynis eyed her guard. He was a huge, muscular man with unkempt hair, a scarred face, and only one ear. When the guard turned, the look he gave her sent alarm racing through her veins. Glynis felt helpless to defend herself, tied like a dog to the mast. She tugged at the ropes, but they held fast.
* * *
A heavy fog rolled in over the loch as evening turned to night. Although Alex could not see the shore, the raucous laughter of the pirates’ camp carried clearly across the still water. Hugh had grown lax.
Behind the laugher, Alex heard the clank of cups and the snap of the fires. Hugh’s and Magnus’s men would outnumber them, but they had surprise on their side. Judging from the sounds, Hugh’s men were well into their cups, celebrating with Alex’s whiskey and ale.
Alex, Duncan, Ian, and Connor stood at the front of his galley and would go first. While the others were fine warriors, the four of them had long years of fighting together. And they were the best.
Alex nodded to the others, and the four of them dropped over the side of the boat with a soft splash. He paused to listen, but the pirates carried on as before. As soon as he gave a low dove call, the other men began dropping into the water behind them. They moved silently through the chest-high water, holding their shields and claymores over their heads. As he neared shore, Alex could see the glow of campfires through the thick fog.
He and Connor hid in the brush near the shore, while Duncan and Ian led most of the men behind the encampment. Duncan and Ian’s group would attack from behind so the pirates could not escape inland. Their plan was to trap the pirates between the devil and the deep blue sea.
Before giving the signal, Alex and Connor’s task was to make certain Glynis and any other hostages would not be caught in the middle of the attack. They crawled forward on their bellies until they were close enough to see the faces of the men gathered around the fires. Alex saw Hugh and Connor’s other uncles, Angus and Torquil.
But he did not see Magnus. Or Glynis.
Alex’s blood went cold as he saw one man come out of a tent that had been set up and another go in. Either that was where the whiskey was—or they were taking turns with a woman. When Alex heard a woman cry out, he was off the ground before Connor grabbed his arm to stop him.
No, Connor mouthed and shook his head. He nodded in the direction Duncan had gone, to tell him that Duncan was closer and would deal with it. The blood pounded in Alex’s head. In his mind’s eye, Alex could see Duncan slipping into the back of the tent and then holding his hand over the man’s mouth to keep him quiet while he slit his throat.
The man did not come out of the tent. Aye, the four of them knew each other very well.
It was not Glynis that he had heard cry out. Alex scanned the rest of the camp, but he did not see her or any other prisoners who would be in harm’s way when they attacked. But where was Glynis? Had she also been in the tent, raped by a dozen men?
Or was she dead?
Alex forced himself to focus on the battle ahead. When Connor touched his arm, Alex made another low bird call to alert the men with Ian and Duncan that it was time. An instant later, he and Connor rose to their feet, shouting the MacDonald battle cry, “Fraoch!”
Their men across the fire echoed their ferocious cry. Fraoch! Fraoch! Fraoch!
Alex channeled his pent-up rage and his fear for his wife into his blade, slicing through one man after another. Battle fever burned in his veins like blue fire. He whirled and swung like a madman, until Duncan’s voice penetrated through the battle sounds around him.
“Connor needs help!” Duncan shouted from across the fire.
Alex turned and saw that Hugh and several of his men were closing in on Connor. Alex leaped to his defense, and the two fought back to back, as they often did. Despite everything, Alex began to enjoy himself. He was made for this. No one could match the pair o
f them as fighters—except perhaps Duncan and Ian.
Hugh was a strong and cagy fighter, but he was always willing to risk the lives of his men before his own. When it was clear that Alex and Connor were winning the fight, Hugh slipped away into the darkness.
“I’ll get Hugh,” Connor shouted. “Angus is running for their boats—catch him before he escapes.”
Through the fog, Alex could just make out the back of a man running hard for the loch. Alex charged after him and brought him down to the ground, crashing on top of him with a thud.
“Where is she?” Alex shouted, as he sat on Angus’s chest with his dirk against the man’s throat. When Angus did not answer quickly enough, Alex pressed the blade deeper, drawing a line of blood. Enunciating each word, he said, “Where is my wife?”
“On the boat,” Angus gasped.
“Which boat?”
“Hugh’s,” Angus said. “He put her there to keep her away from Magnus.”
“If I find ye laid a finger on her, Angus,” Alex said between clenched teeth, “I’ll come back and gut ye.”
Alex had no time to tie Angus so he picked up the nearest rock and hit him on the head.
* * *
Glynis’s wrists were raw from struggling to get the ropes off, but she kept at it. She glanced over her shoulder at her surly keeper, wondering if there was a way she could get his dirk off him. He had an oil lamp beside him, but the fog was so thick that she could see little more than his dim outline, sitting with his legs propped up on the side of the boat.
Somehow, she must get free and warn Alex and the others before they fell into Hugh’s trap. She had not seen a village or even a cottage when they were sailing to the camp. Once she escaped, she would have a long way to travel before she found someone to help her, but she would walk to hell and back if she had to.
Suddenly, there were shouts and the sounds of fighting on the beach. Glynis could not see what was happening through the fog and darkness, but she had not heard a boat arrive. It didn’t surprise her that the pirates had started fighting among themselves. Hugh and Magnus were uneasy allies. Neither trusted the other, and with good reason.
“Arrgh…”
The horrible gagging sound was close. Was that her guard? Glynis leaned forward as far as the rope would let her and squinted into the darkness at the far end of the boat.
The figure of a man slowly emerged from the night fog, carrying his long claymore blade before him. Even before she could see his face, she knew who it was.
She was alone on the boat with Magnus.
* * *
The others were still caught up in the battle, and Alex could not wait for them. He ran through the dense fog, sucking the heavy air deep into his lungs. When he reached the edge of the loch, he saw a wavering light over the water.
God, no! One of the boats was aflame.
Alex splashed into the water. The three pirate boats loomed out of the fog like ghost ships, dimly lit by the glow of fire on the middle ship. Alex could just make out the carved serpent head affixed to its bow. It was Hugh’s ship that was burning.
He clamped his dirk between his teeth and swam the rest of the way to the boat. He found a rope hanging over the side near the burning bow. As he hauled himself up, he strained to listen, but he could hear nothing over the crackle of flames and the sounds from the ongoing battle on shore. When he rolled over the side into the boat, he fell onto something soft.
A body. His mind whirled at the possibilities, and a cold fear settled in his belly. Magnus must have killed the guard. Through the flames, he caught glimpses of the back of a man. Then he heard a deep, angry voice. Magnus’s voice.
“Ye made a fool of me before all my clan,” Magnus said. “That is why they took the chieftainship from me. They lost respect for me because of you.”
“They took the chieftainship from ye because ye were cruel to your own people.”
Ach, that was his wife—arguing with a vicious man with a blade in his hand.
God help him, Magnus was far too close to her. Alex moved forward cautiously, knowing he would have but one chance. If Magnus heard him coming, he could kill Glynis before Alex could reach her.
“All my troubles started with you,” Magnus said, waving his blade in the air like a madman. Flames were licking at his feet, but he was so enraged he didn’t seem to notice. “I should have dragged ye back by your hair and fooked ye til I got ye with child.”
Alex crept forward, his own rage barely under control.
“Everyone was already laughing at me because of what ye did,” Magnus said. “So when I heard ye didn’t leave Shaggy’s with your father, I went looking for ye. I couldn’t let my wife run off with another man.”
“I’m no your wife!” Glynis said.
Alex sensed Magnus was about to attack her. The fire was so hot now that sweat rolled down his face as he crept closer. He must take his chance soon.
“It was while I chasing after ye that they took the chieftainship from me,” Magnus shouted. “They never would have had the ballocks to do it if I’d been there. Because of you, they took everything from me!”
When Magnus swung his arm back, Alex was already running through the flames.
* * *
“Glynis!”
Everything seemed to happen at once: Glynis heard Alex’s voice shouting her name; a dirk flew through the air and landed with a thunk above her head; and Magnus flung his arms out and arched back, howling in pain.
Through the flames, she saw Alex charging across the boat toward them with his hair flying out behind him. All the saints be praised! He looked like one of the legendary heroes of his tales.
Magnus, a famed warrior himself, recovered in time to block Alex’s sword, though his arms shook and his knees bent with the effort. When he turned, she saw the dirk sticking out of his shoulder. Remembering the one above her head, Glynis reached up and worked it out of the wood. Turning the blade toward her, she sawed awkwardly against the ropes holding her wrists. It seemed to take forever, but at last she cut through them.
Glynis backed out of the way as the men fought in the cramped space, knocking over barrels of ale and sending captured pigs squealing. Their swords clanked and scraped the wood of the boat as flames rose higher around them. As the heat seared her face, Glynis feared they would all be consumed in the blaze.
Her hands shook, but she held the dirk in front of her, looking for a chance to stick it into Magnus. But the two men were moving too quickly for her to be sure she wouldn’t strike Alex by mistake. And then Magnus was charging straight at her through the flames, his face contorted with black rage. Just before he reached her, Alex jerked him backward by the back of his shirt.
Pain seared Glynis’s leg. When she looked down, her skirts were on fire. She leaned over and beat at the flames with her hands. But her hair swung down over her shoulders. When it caught on fire, she shrieked.
Alex appeared out of the flames at a full run.
The next Glynis knew they were flying through the air. They hit the water hard, knocking the breath out of her. The last sound she heard as they plunged beneath the surface was the sizzle of flames meeting the water.
She swallowed water and came up coughing. Water streamed down her face, and the charred smell of burned hair filled her nose as Alex carried her to shore. She rested her cheek against his chest and listened to the reassuring sound of his thundering heart.
“Mo chroí, did he hurt ye?” he asked. “Are ye all right?”
“I am now.”
Alex came to a halt. “I love ye so much. I couldn’t bear it if I lost ye.”
She let the words wash over her. Alex loved her.
“You’ll never lose me,” she said. “Never.”
CHAPTER 54
No more whiskey!” Glynis pushed away the cup Alex held to her mouth.
Duncan, Ian, and Connor were all hovering over her as well, like a bunch of mother hens.
“A burn is the worst kind of wound,�
�� Alex said. “No need to be brave now.”
She’d let the men ply her with whiskey—the man’s cure for everything—last night, but she wanted to arrive home sober, for heaven’s sake.
“My leg barely pains me at all now,” Glynis said, though it hurt like the devil. “I won’t have our daughter see me stumbling off the boat.”
“Ye won’t stumble because ye won’t be walking,” Alex said, in a tone that told her there would be no arguing the point.
“Ye have quite a gathering of folks to welcome ye home,” Ian said.
Glynis ignored her husband’s protests and stood. It looked as if everyone from the castle and the nearby cottages had come down to the beach to greet them. She smiled up at Alex and squeezed his hand.
When Alex carried her off the boat, the people waiting on the shore cheered—which very nearly made her weep. Alex set her on her feet as Sorcha ran up. Glynis dropped to one knee on the sand and held out her arms to her daughter.
“Mother,” Sorcha said, as she threw her arms around Glynis’s neck. “I knew da would bring ye home.”
As she held Sorcha tightly against her, Glynis did shed a tear now. She would always remember this moment when she heard her daughter’s voice for the first time, calling her Mother.
“Your mother has a battle wound that proves how brave she is,” Alex said, as he helped Glynis to her feet again. He rested his hand on Sorcha’s head. “Wait til ye see it—it’s a beauty.”
Glynis laughed because she knew he meant it.
“We’ll bid ye farewell now and join our men on the other ship,” Connor said.
“Ye can’t stay?” Glynis asked, looking from Connor to Ian and Duncan.
“We must deliver Angus and Torquil to the new Clanranald chieftain for their punishment,” Connor said. “The Clanranalds, at least, will have justice.”
“I know ye feel badly about Hugh escaping again.” Alex clasped Connor’s shoulder. “But I appreciate what ye did.”
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