‘So,’ he began, walking back to where she sat, ‘what should we do while we wait?’
She moved so quickly that she stumbled over the box and had to put her arm out to stop herself from falling. He grabbed for her and managed to get a hold on her cloak. Though it did not come loose, the foodstuffs she’d shoved into her cloak did, dropping to the floor at her feet. For a moment neither of them moved nor spoke. Then, when he could hold it in no longer, Niall laughed aloud.
‘Going somewhere or are you just hungry?’ he asked, scooping up some of the bannocks and holding them out to her. Would she lie?
She grabbed them and, without uttering a word, shoved them back inside her cloak. Tugging it back into place, she watched him as closely as he did her.
‘Food for your journey home,’ he said. ‘And with your knowledge of the camp, I suspect you know a way out of here that will keep you from sight as you escape.’ She gasped, telling him what he wanted to know. ‘Will the pot be your weapon of choice once more when you decide to leave?’
All the colour drained from her face in a moment and she swayed on her feet then. When he reached out to steady her, she backed away, putting as much of the cave between them as she could. It mattered not to him, for it was time for her to share her knowledge of this place. And more so, to tell him who she was.
Niall realised, as he prepared to confront her, that one part he needed to know and the other he desperately needed to know. Damn his soul, but he feared the desire more than the need.
Chapter Eleven
‘Sit.’ When she did not act, he repeated his order, pointing to the makeshift stool. ‘Sit there now.’
Niall had come to dislike seeing fear on her face, but if that’s what he needed to get the truth from her now, that’s what he would use. His tone made her move and she crossed to the box a few paces away.
‘So, there are other ways, secret ways, in and out of this place and you know them.’ Crossing his arms over his chest, he stood in front of her and watched her as he spoke. ‘You lived here when you were a child during the conflict between The Mackintosh and his dead cousin.’
He let the silence stand between them until she twitched. Well, her left eye did, giving him the sign he needed. Niall crouched down so she would have difficulty avoiding his gaze.
‘A boon for a boon mayhap? To loosen your words?’ he asked. Her body reacted quickly and Niall didn’t think she realised it at first. Those lips opened and her tongue slid along them. He could not help the smile on his own face. Her demeanour changed in an instant to one like the warrior woman he’d called her earlier. Ilysa crossed her arms over her own chest, mirroring his stance, and then she met his gaze with a glare.
‘I will not let you kiss me again,’ she said. Her words were spoken quietly yet he heard the strong vow in them.
Niall leaned in towards her then, wanting to prove her newest lie, and stared at her mouth. Moving slowly, he stopped when only a few inches separated them, when he could feel the heat of her open-mouthed breathing against him. Then, as she leaned the tiniest bit closer, he closed the space and his mouth almost touched hers.
Almost. His point proven, Niall leaned away.
‘I do not think I would have to force you to accept my kiss, lass.’ He smiled as she shook her head at him. ‘That is not the boon I speak of now. I wish some information in exchange for granting you the same.’
Though her disgruntled expression over the kiss had not eased, her green eyes showed interest in this new offer. She tilted her head and studied him.
‘A question for a question?’ she asked. Niall sat back on his heels and nodded. ‘And if I will not answer?’
‘The other boon will be required.’ His pleasure that she did not scream and run from him was somewhat dimmed when she spoke.
‘And if you will not?’
‘Then a boon of your choosing,’ he offered. ‘Though letting you go is not going to happen.’
‘Very well,’ she said. ‘I suppose you will go first?’
He needed to concentrate on the questions he chose, for he knew she would play this well. An ill-chosen word or phrase and she would wheedle her way out of giving him the information he wanted. He stood and took a couple of paces away from her. His body had been protesting ever since he leaned out of her kiss and parts of him would like nothing more than to take what had been offered.
‘How many ways out of this place are there?’ She stood now and paced around the cave before answering him. ‘Not counting the ones I know about.’
‘Which are those?’ She glanced over and waited for his clarification.
‘The main one in from the west. And the one along the stream.’
‘Then three others.’
‘Three?’
‘Aye, three.’ She nodded, confirming her answer.
She began to explain and then she stopped, smiling at him as she did. Aye, the lass would play this game well. He motioned for her to take her turn, preparing himself to dissemble and limit his answers as best he could. What would the lass want to know about him?
‘Where are you from?’ she asked, remaining in the far shadows as she spoke.
’Twas not the first or second or even subsequent question he’d expected from her. He thought about how to answer and what possible reason she had for knowing that. Giving his place of birth would not reveal too much. He thought. He hoped.
‘I was born in a small town in the Borders near Kelso,’ he said.
Niall watched as she thought about his words. A few silent minutes passed before he asked his next query. Each one, he knew, would bring more risk with the possibility of more information.
‘Another?’ he offered.
He could almost feel her curiosity stirring from across the chamber. Niall had a number of questions he’d like answered and it might give him insight into who would want the mighty Mackintosh clan and chief to suffer. Her nod of acceptance made him feel a strange elation.
How closely did she know the Mackintosh? Would Brodie Mackintosh send a troop of men out to find her? What did she know of the feud that threatened to explode between the two powerful families? How many knew of this place? Did he believe The Camerons were behind the attacks?
All of them good questions. Questions to which he wanted answers and to which he would get them...in time. For now, he needed to ask but one.
‘Will The Mackintosh send his warriors to find you?’ He settled on that one. It would give him information that he could use with Lundie and the others.
‘Brodie Mackintosh would not leave his kith or kin to fight his battles or take his punishments. He will not abandon me.’
Her words ended in a quivering voice, in spite of the faith she expressed for her chieftain. Her certainty sounded very, very personal to him. Was she...?
Nay! She was an innocent, he was sure of it. But her knowledge made it seem like she knew the chieftain well. So, if not his leman, what were her ties to him? Too late to ask that question now.
The lass stopped pacing then and faced him. She was waiting for her chance to ask her question.
She started and stopped a number of times, clearly unsure of which question to ask. Finally, she let out a breath and the words flowed with it.
‘What are you?’
* * *
She watched his eyes widen then before he spoke. He’d not expected this question or her first. In trying to decide whether or not she was in danger and, if so, how much, Fia needed more information about this man who stood between her and the rest of the men there.
His first answer revealed that he was not from the Highlands. She suspected he was more than what he seemed so his second reply would fill in the unknowns about that. If he answered. He could decline and offer her a boon of her choosing instead. As she stood there waiting, she
thought about what she could ask him for her boon.
Her gaze went to his mouth. Memories of the way he possessed her mouth during those kisses made her ache for another. She took in and let out a deep breath, trying to keep herself in control and trying not to ask for another of those kisses. He’d been staring off at the shadows in the back of the cave and thankfully had not witnessed her wanton display.
‘I am a man who had sold his honour to the one who will pay the most.’ He’d whispered the words so softly, she thought she might have imagined them. The pain as he said them made her heart hurt. Then he cleared his throat, smiled that wicked smile and spoke loud enough that there was no mistake of his claim. ‘I am Iain Dubh, lately of the west of Scotland. A sacker of villages. A kidnapper of fair maidens. A thief among thieves.’
Though she had thought part of this exchange between them meant she needed to answer truthfully, Iain had not thought it necessary to follow that assumption. He’d lied then, even as he’d revealed a painful truth with the first words. She thought to take him to task over it and realised it would change naught. He would lie when he wanted and share the truth if he thought that was needed.
A liar among liars.
‘What is wrong?’ he asked. Turning towards her, he took a step in her direction. Only the voice calling from outside stopped him.
‘Iain Dubh,’ Lundie said, summoning him. ‘The winds have changed like the lass said.’
Iain waved with his hand for her to stay where she was rather than join him at the opening as he lifted the flap. Lundie stood there waiting. The rains still poured down, but the winds had changed their direction, blowing in now from the east and south rather than north and west. Though it might be hours more, or even a whole day before the storm ceased, this was a good sign.
Think what he might, Fia planned to escape. There would come a moment of distraction or inattention and she would use it to get away. Or to get into the shelter that lay buried in the side of the mountain. If she disappeared, these men would search for her at first. But with what she’d told Iain about Brodie, she thought they might decide that their own escape was more important than staying around for Brodie’s arrival.
Oh, he would come. Or he would send his men to find her. These outlaws might have hidden their destination at first, however that would not prevent the leader of the Chattan Confederation from using all the resources at hand from seeking her return. From what she’d overheard, they’d ridden west before turning back north through the mountains. It would only be a matter of time until Brodie or someone thought to search here.
While Iain was outside with Lundie, she retrieved and wrapped the bannocks and dried venison and beef strips. Tucking them carefully back into the lining of her cloak, she folded it and laid it out of the way. Then she walked as quietly as possible over to the entrance and, staying out of view, listened to the two men talking there.
‘At first light,’ Lundie said.
‘Ye said three days?’ Iain asked him.
‘Aye, depending on the roads after this storm. But that is my plan.’
‘And when ye return? We leave?’ he asked.
‘’Tis what I was told. The men’ll be paid and go off in their own ways. If’n ye be wanting more work, I can speak to...him and ask him.’
‘Aye,’ Iain said.
So, he meant to continue his lying, thieving, pillaging ways if there was gold left to be earned? Even the sadness in his voice when he spoke of selling his honour was a lie.
That he lied truly did not surprise her, but her own sense of pain in hearing him offer his honour up again did. Shaking her head, she listened on.
‘Do ye think The Mackintosh wi’ be sending out after us?’ Lundie asked. ‘After her?’ Fia listened for what Iain would say. Would he warn them off?
‘I think we wi’ be safe here until yer return. Once yer back, we can set things to right and be on our way.’ She heard shuffling feet and knew Lundie was leaving. Set things to right? Did that mean her?
‘Wi’ ye tell the rest of them?’ Iain asked as Lundie moved away.
‘Aye. I wi’ give them orders, but ye wi’ hiv to deal wi’ problems because of the lass,’ Lundie said. ‘If ye expect me to back ye with him, show me ye can handle this.’
Iain grunted in reply. Though she expected him to enter the cave, he did not. Instead, as she peeked from behind the flap, she watched him walk a short distance away, taking shelter under the thick and interwoven branches of an ancient tree. In that moment, Fia knew she must be prepared and ready to go as soon as the opportunity presented itself.
For, these men would never leave a witness alive to tell of their guilt. Even if it was not The Mackintosh chasing them. No matter who followed or if none did, they could not take the risk that someone’s words, her words, could connect them to their crimes.
So, though she’d thought that the danger she faced was to her virtue, Fia now realised that her life was at stake.
* * *
She spent the next hours as the storm blew itself out considering her plan and her choices in silence for he did not try to engage her in conversation. He was as lost in his thoughts as she in hers. Fia had told him of the three paths out and yet never told him where they were. Now, she prayed that each of them remained open and usable after all the passing years. She would have to get to whichever one was closest when her chance came.
He watched her throughout the rest of the day. She could not look at him without wanting to scream at him. He played the appealing rogue so well, even while planning her demise. Well, she could play her role just as well. She waited as the rains finally ceased and the men began to clear the centre of the camp from most of the downed branches. She obeyed orders and made a meal. She even followed Iain Dubh back to the cave when he called to her.
Lundie gave his final orders to the group, promising them gold and other rewards before they sought their rest that night. None of them wanted to risk their payment, so begrudging acceptance was given. As Anndra said to her, soon they would have enough gold to buy any number of women for their use.
Iain followed her into the cave after giving her a few minutes to take care of herself. She avoided the pallet he’d made up there, for she did not wish to be anywhere near him. When he arrived, he closed the flap and checked the banked fire in the alcove. It yet gave off a fair amount of heat and would make it more comfortable than the last night had been in there.
Fia planned to sleep sitting against the wall, wrapped in her cloak and ready to run. All of that changed when he lifted the blankets and lay down on the side closest the entrance. He placed his sword at his side and then beckoned her in. When she shook her head and began explaining that she would prefer to sleep elsewhere, he got that angry expression in his gaze that worried her.
Within minutes, she lay next to him, with as much distance between their bodies as she could manage. Unfortunately he had other plans and soon, she lay on her side with him close behind her. His breath on her neck taunted her. When she tried to get up once, he took her braid and wrapped in several times around his fist, chaining her securely to him for the rest of the night.
* * *
Alan remained in the shieling for those first nights, watching the snows change to rain and back again several times before the rains won control of the storm. The main road up the mountainside remained impassable and would most likely remain so for some time. He ventured out to attempt it every few hours while the sun was up and on the third day he made it further up than before.
He changed his route, remembering how he’d found his way in the last time and crept in silence and under cover until he reached the encampment. Six men worked to clear a place in the centre of the camp. One man was their leader for it was obvious from his behaviour and from the way the others acquiesced to his every order. None of them sounded as though they came from the
Highlands and none of them wore plaids, choosing instead the lowlanders’ mode of dress.
Alan smiled. None of them were Camerons. The scraps left behind at each attack were truly to throw the blame where they wanted it to land.
Most of the damage from the storm he could see were from broken branches and downed trees. As he watched they carried supplies and such out of one of the caves and set up a fire, for cooking he thought. Keeping a watch for any sign of where they might be keeping Fia—if she was still with them—he remembered his time here and knew there were several caves up along the paths. Mayhap he would need to look there?
Then he saw her, walking down the pathway to the left, followed by a tall, black-haired man. As they approached, he could see that she looked well. Or better than he’d expected in a situation like this. Shifting his position and leaning to the other side of the tree that gave him shelter, he also saw the mutinous expression on her face that foretold of trouble.
Yet, she walked freely among the men, not one of them abused or mistreated her. Indeed, she cooked something for them and they stood in an orderly line waiting for their portion. Each spoke to her as they passed and she did not cower or seem in fear of her life. But... There was something different in the way the black-haired man treated her.
And something different in the way she responded to every word he spoke and glance given. It reminded him...it reminded him of the way Brodie and Arabella were, here, in this place, all those years ago. Alan put that aside when the older man, the leader, began to speak to the group. With their attention turned to him, Alan took advantage of it to skirt his way to the other side of the clearing. Staying far enough away that his movements were not seen, he positioned himself nearer to the caves and listened.
Their leader, Lundie as he was called, would leave in the morning. He would meet with the one behind this whole plan, the attacks and more, Alan suspected. As he spoke, Alan’s thoughts tumbled about, sorting through the details and coming up with an idea. An idea, a plan that conflicted with his orders from Brodie.
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