A Highlander Born From Chaos (Highlanders 0f Kirklinton Book 2)

by Kenna Kendrick

  “If ye have harmed her in any way,” he cried, as Crispin staggered up.

  “The harlot will destroy our clan, Hamish. Can ye nae see that” he snarled, drawing his sword.

  “And I suppose ‘Tis ye who believe ye can restore its honor by seein’ harm come to her,” Hamish cried, lunging forward, as their swords clashed.

  Fraser stepped forward, but Rory held him back, as Hamish and Crispin faced one another.

  “Wait, father. Let him prove himself,” Rory said, as Hamish and Crispin circled one another in the gathering gloom of the lonely path.

  “Coward,” Hamish cried, “ye wouldnae face me when my father died, and instead ye sneak around behind my back and make as though ‘Tis I who have betrayed our cause. I have sought only to save it, but now I see ye as ye truly are, cousin. A man without honor and with nay courage in his heart.”

  At these words, Crispin lunged forward, his sword clashing with Hamish’s as he cried out in anger. But Hamish was by far the better swordsman, and he stepped to one side, sending Crispin reeling into the snow once more.

  “Get up, ye pathetic man,” Owen cried, pulling Crispin to his feet and pushing him back towards Hamish.

  He clutched at his side, a look of pain on his face, staggering forward and lunging again towards his opponent.

  “ ye who have dishonored yerself, cousin. Breakin’ off yer engagement with Isabella. Ye will lead us all to our doom. The English will be upon us, our clan’s name will be gone, and for what? So that ye can marry a harlot?” Crispin said, his sword once more clashing against Hamish’s.

  “I have nay love for the English, I have nay love for a clan that would still refuse to see that the old differences must be set aside. We are Scots, and the sooner we behaved as such, the better,” Hamish replied, and with a mighty roar, he fell upon Crispin, raining down blow upon blow, as his cousin struck out desperately left and right.

  But it was Hamish who had the upper hand, and Crispin was soon beaten back as Hamish’s anger was unleashed. He tried desperately to fight back, but for every swipe he took, Hamish took two, and he fell to the ground, beaten and bloodied.

  “Ye are a man alone, Hamish. There is nae one of our clan who will support ye, admit that ye have lost,” Crispin cried.

  “Never, for ‘Tis ye who stirred them up against me. ‘Tis ye who is the traitor, sidin’ with the English against us. That alliance is gone now, and I will see our clan mighty again, without ye or any of them to help us,” Hamish replied.

  As Crispin raised his sword, swiping feebly through the air, Hamish raised his sword and struck his cousin such a blow, that it sent him reeling back into the snow. He stood breathless, looking down at Crispin’s lifeless body, and slowly turned to face the others.

  “Hamish, I …” Fraser began, but Hamish held up his hand.

  “Now, dae ye believe me? ‘Tis I who wish to find Evie, ‘Tis I who wish to marry her, and ‘Tis I who wish to bring peace between our clans. This man was nay MacBryde, for all he wished for was the cling to power. He would have killed me, had I nae killed him,” Hamish replied.

  Fraser nodded, stepping forward, his sword now back in its hilt.

  “I believe ye, Hamish MacBryde, and now I ask ye to prove yerself again. Come, let us hurry on. The night is drawin’ in, and we are nay closer to findin’ Evie,” he said, and the others followed him along the path.

  “My cousin had crofts along this way. We should search them to see if there is any trace of Evie. This path leads eventually south of the border and towards the Musgrave castle. ‘Tis a lonely way and treacherous at the best of times. But if Crispin had anything to dae with Evie’s disappearance, and I am certain he did, then ‘Tis likely that she is somewhere near,” Hamish said, catching up with Fraser.

  “Good, then we are on the right path,” Fraser replied.

  “In more ways than one, I hope, Laird,” Hamish said.

  “That much is to be seen, but my opinion of ye has changed somewhat in these past hours, Hamish MacBryde, but forgive me if yet I daenae trust ye fully,” Fraser replied.

  “I wouldnae expect ye to, Laird. If I was ye, then I wouldnae dae either,” Hamish said.

  It was dark now and cold, though no further snowfall had come. The clouds had nearly cleared, though the moon remained partially obscured by their last wisps hanging in the sky above. The path was dark, and Hamish kept his wits about him, lest they be set upon by unknown foes lurking in the shadows. The crofts belonging to his cousin lay about a mile further on. Hamish tended to avoid them if he could, for he and his cousin had never got on well, and Hamish had no guilt in having settled their score by the sword.

  “How much further now, Hamish?” Fraser asked as they came to a clump of trees, the path narrowing even further.

  “About half a mile until the first croft. We must keep out wits about us, though. If Crispin was in league with Isabella and the Musgraves, then their soldiers could be anywhere near about. ‘Tis dangerous to stray too close to the borders,” Hamish replied.

  “Ye daenae need to tell me how dangerous the Musgraves are,” Fraser replied.

  Hamish nodded, he knew the story of Fraser’s imprisonment well enough. It was a dark chapter in the history of the Musgraves, and their anger at the killing of Howard Musgrave had been passed on through the generations. Isabella had always spoken of her hatred for the Elliotts, a hatred for which she had no other reason than the stories of the past. But the disappearance of Evie had chilling similarities to that of her mother all those years ago, and Hamish was fearful at the thought that Isabella may be seeking to enact revenge.

  They walked on in silence for a while, an owl hooting overhead causing Hamish to startle, his hand going instinctively to his sword hilt. At last, they came in sight of the first croft, and Hamish raised his hand, calling for them to halt. It was a low, stone building, partially built into a rocky cliffside, surrounded by trees.

  “Well, this is a lonely place and make nay mistake,” Fraser whispered.

  “Come on, we shall creep up and see if we can take them by surprise. If Evie is there, then we shall soon know of it,” Hamish said, and without a further word, they crept forward, each holding his breath, the threat of danger lying all around.

  Chapter Thirty-Six

  Evie awoke with a start, though her sleep had been so interrupted that it could hardly be called rest. The croft was dark, or darker than it had been earlier on, and she guessed that it was the dead of night. Around her, the soldiers snored, and she could see the faint outline of Isabella asleep in the chair by the hearth.

  The fire had burned low now, and it felt even colder than before. None of the others were stirring, and Evie listened again, wondering if she had imagined the noise which had awoken her. But apart from the snoring of the soldiers, there was nothing else, no further sounds. Evie sighed, the path here had been long and lonely and had little idea as to where she was.

  Close to the border and with nay hope of rescue, she said to herself.

  There was no point in trying to escape; if she made any movement, it would surely wake the soldiers, and the consequences would be unpleasant. She wondered what the Musgrave castle would be like and whether she could be as brave as her mother in enduring whatever horror awaited her.

  She was determined not to cry, but she could not help a tear rolling down her cheeks, as she thought sadly of her fate. There was no sign of rescue, for how would anyone know where she was? She had snuck away in secret, and perhaps her father and mother would wash their hands of her; she had behaved appallingly towards her family, with no regard for their feelings.

  I have hurt them, and now I have hurt myself, she told herself, as she lay shivering in the darkness on the cold hard bed.

  But at that moment, there came another noise, above the snoring of the soldiers. The sound of … she could not quite make it out, was it footsteps outside? The whispers of someone beyond the door? She strained her ears, listening as hard as she could, her hopes
rising at the thought of rescue.

  * * *

  “Wait a moment,” Hamish whispered, “if this is the place, then Isabella will have Evie well-guarded. We must be prepared to fight.”

  “We are nae cowards, Hamish MacBryde. We will gladly take on an army if it means gainin’ back our sister from the enemy,” Rory replied, and Owen agreed.

  “Aye, we will fight, and we shall win,” he said.

  “The Musgraves are …” Hamish began, but Fraser caught his arm.

  “We Elliotts have faced the Musgraves before in battle, and we have been victorious. Daenae worry about us, lad,” he said, and Hamish smiled.

  “I have underestimated ye, Laird. For that, I am sorry, come now, let us go forward, but proceed carefully, who knows what devilish tricks Isabella has planned for us,” he said.

  They crept forward towards the darkened croft. There were no windows, only a door, which seemed barred shut, and once more, Hamish raised his hand.

  “Send Rory and Owen, smash in the door, and fall upon them. The lock will nae be strong,” Fraser said, and Hamish nodded.

  “Aye, come then, make haste,” he said, and the two brothers charged forward, with Hamish, Fraser, and Sweeney behind.

  They crashed into the door, the old hinges splintering against the force of their impact. With a cry, they were through Hamish pushing past them, desperate for the first sight of Evie inside. But he was surprised by what he found. There was no one there and no sign that anyone had been there. No fire burned in the hearth, and moonlight flooded through a hole in the roof above. Hamish cursed, turning to the others and shaking his head.

  “She has nae been here. It does nae look as though anyone has been here in weeks,” he said, and in his frustration, he kicked over a table by the fireplace.

  “Then, where next?” Fraser asked, his voice sounding angry and frustrated.

  “There is another croft, just like this, further along, the path. It too belonged to my cousin, we should look there,” Hamish said.

  But in his mind, his greatest fear was being realized. If Evie had been taken to Musgrave Castle, then all hope was surely lost.

  I will find her, even if I have to go to the ends of the earth to dae so, he vowed as they hurried out of the croft.

  * * *

  As Evie strained her ears through the darkness, one of the soldiers gave an almighty snort and sat up.

  “Where am I? What …? Where the …?” he said, startling Evie and causing the others to stir.

  “You fool,” Isabella cried, getting up from her chair and cuffing the soldier around the ear, “do you not know the rest of us are sleeping.”

  “Mistress, a thousand pardons, I …” he began, but Isabella only cursed and cuffed him again.

  “Nothing, look, the girl is awake now and the others. The hour is still early, or late. But seeing as you have so disturbed us, we shall depart for Musgrave Castle. I have no desire to remain here in this awful place a moment longer. Do you hear me, men? Make ready to leave, get the candles lit, I want you ready as soon as possible,” Isabella said, and Evie knew that she would soon be beyond rescue.

  If they departed for Musgrave Castle, then neither Hamish nor her family would surely dare follow. She had heard such terrible rumors of that wicked place, a place of darkness and terror. A place where once you were taken through the gates as a prisoner, it was unlikely you would emerge.

  I am nae as brave as my mother, she said to herself, shrinking back on the bed, as around her, the preparations to depart were made.

  “Up now, do not just lie there, you pathetic little harlot. On your feet,” Isabella said, catching hold of Evie by the arm and pulling her to her feet.

  “Ye daenae have to dae this, Isabella. All this for a man who does nae love ye and will never love ye. Ye cannae force love, Isabella, ye cannae force Hamish to love ye, whatever ye may think,” Evie said, “daenae live with hate, Isabella, it will only bring ye sadness.”

  “Silence,” Isabella cried, raising her hand to strike Evie, but as she did so, a tear ran down her cheek, and she stepped back.

  “Let me go, and I promise ye shall have nay further trouble from me. I will return to Kirklinton, Hamish, and I will …” but her words were caught short by Isabella’s palm across her cheek.

  “You and Hamish will do nothing. He is not coming to rescue you, and do you think I would really let you go? After everything that has happened? You are a fool Evie Elliott and fools must be taught a lesson. We, Musgraves, have learned from the past, and we do not easily forget the humiliation inflicted upon us by your clan. Unlike Sir Percy and my cousin Howard, I shall see to it that revenge is truly had,” Isabella said, “come now, take her.”

  The soldiers stepped forward, pulling Evie to her feet and binding her hands with chords. The cut into her wrists, smarting, and she winced in pain, letting out a cry.

  “There is more to come,” the soldier said, laughing and pulling her towards him.

  “Enough delay, we leave now,” Isabella said, turning to smirk at Evie, who looked at her defiantly, “and you shall enjoy the hospitality of the Musgraves. You foolish mother stayed only a while, but perhaps you shall have the luck of your pitiful grandmother.”

  And with that, she pulled open the door to the croft, and the party marched out into the snow.

  Chapter Thirty-Seven

  “There, the croft is up ahead,” Hamish said, pointing along the path in front.

  The others paused, peering through the darkness. It stood on a rocky outcrop, surrounded by trees, much like the one further back along the path. Again, there were no lights, though no windows in which to display one. It was a wild place, the snow having fallen even thicker here than on the moorlands behind. The wind had whipped it up into drifts, and there was little hope of pressing much further on that night.

  They were all tired, though none of them voiced it, and Hamish dreaded finding the croft empty, or worse abandoned. Had Evie even been here? It had been a gamble to take this path, though her pendant proved that she had been there. He wondered what had become of her and whether she was even alive. He had not made the suggestion of that fear to the others. But it was a very real possibility. If it was Isabella who had Evie, then she was surely capable of anything, even murder, if it meant her revenge.

  “The same as before,” Fraser said, holding up his hand and pointing towards Rory and Owen.

  They nodded and prepared to advance towards the croft, just as Fraser put his hand on Hamish’s shoulder.

  “Come on,” Hamish said, but Fraser leaned forward to whisper in his ear.

  “Whatever happens, know this, ye have my respect. Ye are … ye are nae what I thought ye, Hamish MacBryde,” he said.

  “And ye are nae what I thought of ye, Laird,” Hamish replied.

  Turning, they advanced towards the croft. Rory and Owen in front and Sweeney at the rear. Their swords were drawn, poised, and ready for the attack. But, as they came within a few yards of the door, they were startled as it opened.

  It was Isabella who emerged first, and she too appeared astonished by the sight which met her. With a cry, she turned, running back into the croft as the soldiers behind her fell over themselves in surprise.

  “Evie?” Fraser cried, “Evie, are ye there?”

  Together, the party rushed forward, as Isabella cried out for her soldiers to attack.

  “Stand aside,” Hamish cried, but the soldiers, recovered now from their initial surprise, drew their swords and charged through the door towards them.

  But despite their fatigue, the party was riled up by the sight of Isabella and her men. Hamish found himself filled with such rage and anger that he let out a great cry, rushing forward and striking at the first soldiers with such a blow that it sent him reeling backward. The others too charged ahead, with cries and shouts of vengeance, and the soldiers fled, running through the snow, trailing blood in their wake, as Hamish rushed into the croft.

  “Evie,” he cried, �
��Evie, are ye there?”

  The croft was dark, the remnants of a fire burning in the hearth, but through the gloom, he heard a cry—Evie’s voice echoing in the darkness.

  “Hamish, help me,” she shouted, and Hamish held up his hand for the others to step back.

  A shaft of moonlight from the door now illuminated the scene, as Fraser and the others stood to one side, and as Hamish’s eyes adjusted to the gloom, he saw with horror the scene before him. Isabella had Evie caught in her grip, and in her hand, there flashed the silver of a dagger held at Evie’s throat.

  “You stay back, Hamish, else you know what will happen,” Isabella said, her voice sounding calm, yet menacing.