Taken by her Highland Enemy: He was running from his past; she was fighting for her future...

by Kendrick, Kenna

  Eamon swallowed, remembering his faculties as they flooded back to him. “What happened?”

  Lukas seemed hesitant to reply. “I had tae hit ye, lad. Ye were nearly going mad with yer yelling and yer attempts tae leave. There was nae other way tae stop ye. Ye have only awoken now. Yet ye have spoken her name intae the night. It was like ye were awake while ye slept.”

  Eamon tensed, remembering what had happened only hours before. His grip tightened on his knife, even though he had lowered the weapon. “Whose?”

  Lukas sighed. “Isabelle’s, of course. Ye were telling her ye loved her.”

  Eamon scoffed. “It was a lie, of course. The ravings of a madman.”

  “Ye certainly have that correct.”

  Eamon scowled. “Where are we? What are we doing here?”

  Eamon could see the other men, huddling around a fire. Nothing else was able to be seen in the darkness. “We have taken ye from the MacManus land. They were nae pleased with the flames from the Englishmen. We helped them put out what we could afore we left, taking ye intae the forest. We thought it our best hiding place until we could decide what tae do. I reckon we have little time until yer brother is dead.”

  Eamon nodded grimly. So that is why the darkness in his mind had lain so heavily and thick upon him. He shuddered as he looked around at the darkened forms of trees around him. “So ye propose we go after them? Cutler’s men?”

  “Aye. We followed them once ye were unconscious, but we had tae hide once they realized we were on their tail. I watched them as they fled. I think I know where they have made camp. We will be able tae see their light in these barren hills, once we leave the forest.”

  Eamon nodded and tried to stand, but he began to feel woozy and clutched his head. “Lad, ye hit me hard enough, I think.”

  The other men chuckled. “Aye, I think so,” Dirk replied. “We had tae be sure ye would be compliant in allowing us tae take ye. I have never seen ye in such a state.”

  Eamon remembered. He was flailing, ridiculous at the loss of Isabelle. His whole body tried to steel itself against the feelings that flooded forward into his heart. She was gone. She had lied to him. Who was the woman who had taken his heart and refused to give it back?

  Lukas said as they sat before the fire, “A woman always makes a man mad. It is perhaps better to do without them.” Grunts of agreement sounded around the flames.

  “It is nae so easy as that,” Eamon grumbled. “They are wily temptresses and pull ye intae their sphere with nae mercy. That woman was the spy that we met. It was her the whole time! I presume she was in league with her father tae send us tae our demise.”

  The men were silent for a moment before Errol said, “Truly? Wow, I would never have guessed.” He sat back in astonishment, a slight chuckle escaping his lips.

  “Aye,” Lukas said, his voice full of bewilderment. “But she never did make much of a good captive. She was always trying tae get her point across as if she had planned everything.”

  Eamon snorted. “Aye, she had done so, I believe. Her lady’s maid tells me it is so.” He sat upright, with fear. “Where is the lass? Arya? Dinnae tell me we left her with a strange clan all on her own.”

  “Nae, nae, she sleeps there.” Lukas pointed to a tree not far from the fire, and Eamon visibly relaxed.

  “Good. We will need tae find a place for her. Perhaps she will wish tae reside in Sean’s village if it remains in existence.”

  Lukas moved near. “This is what we need tae discuss, lad. We must go and fight once ye are ready. We must take back what is ours and fight for what we believe in! Yer brother shouldnae die for naething, nae at the hands of that Englishman! Have ye lost yer fire?”

  “Aye. What purpose is there now when it is all lies and deceit? I have lost my brother. I have disappointed him in my weakness. Will he want me for a rescuer? The woman has taken my heart with her, and she has deceived me. She is with them! What am I worth now?”

  “Lad, ye are a foolish idiot! If she was leaving tae go with her father, why would they nae burn the whole village down? They left as soon as she ran through the door. She has deceived us all, tae be sure, but I dinnae think she sides with her father. I think she left for a good reason.”

  “So, the MacManus land didnae burn?”

  “Nae. There was a fight tae keep the fire contained, but all is well. Although I dinnae think ye should get yer favours from that clan from now on,” he laughed.

  Eamon looked at his old friend with concern. “But what of yer own lives? Why do ye do this for me now? We could very well lose everything if we attempt tae bombard the camp?”

  Lukas turned to the men and thought for a moment before saying, “We still get that wealth, do we nae?”

  For the first time, Eamon laughed a little, feeling a bit lighter with the aid of his friends so near at hand. “If we can find it, that is.”

  Lukas tapped his finger to his lips. “Like ye said, we are Highlanders. The woods and rocks are our hiding places. We find a way tae come upon the men unawares. We attack them without them knowing. Once we reduce the number, we can rush in and fight with swords, just as we planned. It could all go as ye thought.”

  Eamon thought it over. “Aye, it could be so. But ye would be willing tae risk it?”

  Lukas slapped his friend’s back. “Aye for ye, lad? We would do it, just so that ye wouldnae look as ye do now anymore. We couldnae bear it. What say ye?”

  Eamon looked around at each of the men. “I fear they will execute Sean at first light. I have dreamed of it. Will ye be prepared tae leave soon?”

  “Aye. We were just waiting for ye. What do ye propose we do with the girl while we go tae fight?”

  Eamon looked in Arya’s direction. He wasn’t sure what caused him to have mercy on this woman who had likewise deceived him, but in his heart, he knew that he could not simply abandon a woman to her own devices in the wilderness, especially not a Sassenach lost in a country not her own. “We will take her with us but place her in a hiding place and tell her tae head tae the village if we dinnae return.”

  “Aye, a sound plan, lad. Come. We are ready. Now that ye are awake, we should rush tae the camp tae wait until the right moment. We will find our hiding places in the trees.” Eamon stood, feeling a little bit stronger. Lukas handed him a flask.

  “Drink this, lad. Find yer strength. Here is a hunk of bread as well.” Eamon took them gratefully, feeling even stronger as he filled his belly. He tried to keep Isabelle from his mind and just focus on his brother’s pain. She would be witness to his brother’s execution if he did not get there in time. He thought angrily, it would give her the recompense she deserved.

  They slid over to Arya, and Eamon pressed on her shoulder to rouse her. Once she awoke, she looked up at Eamon’s face with concern. “You have awoken, sir. I was worried about you.”

  “Nae tae worry about, lass. We go tae find my brother.”

  “And the mistress?” Arya asked, hope in her eyes.

  His voice was tight with emotion. “Nae. She has chosen her lot. We fight only for the life of my brother. Ye will come with us and wait in hiding. If we dinnae return, we will show ye the way tae the village, so that ye can find help.”

  Arya nodded silently. He could tell she was on the verge of saying something but refrained. He stood, stretching his arms out. “It is time. Let us go.”

  They clambered up onto their horses, and Arya rode with him as they edged out of the forest. With each step they took away from the heavy-laden darkness, Eamon felt just a little bit lighter. The forest held omens of death, and it had clouded his mind. At least now, in the light of the stars and moon, he could feel some semblance of hope. They rode out into the openness of the countryside, but the night was dark enough, and they did not fear they're being exposed.

  Lukas led the way, but Eamon started to get worried when he could see nothing that gave him any indication that a camp was nearby. There was no firelight, no tents, no tracks of humans or horses hea
ding in their direction. Where could it be? Perhaps his friend had been wrong? He cursed himself for being unconscious for so long: another weakness that perhaps had lost him too much time to find his brother alive and well.

  He rode next to Lukas. “Where is it? I see naething.”

  Lukas turned from side to side and slowed. “It should have been here. They couldnae go so far. I could have sworn I saw them head in this direction.”

  Eamon looked back at his men when his horse stepped into a pile of wood. He pulled Aine away and looked down at a pile of smoldering ashes at her hooves. He cooed her as she began to bristle. “Sorry, lassie.” He squinted into the darkness. “Lukas, look at this.” He gazed around the ashes and saw footprints and holes for stakes. There was even a stray rope. They have been here.”

  Lukas nodded in assent, spinning his horse around as he took in the surroundings. “Aye, but where have they gone?”

  * * *

  Isabelle had fallen asleep for a brief moment before she was roused again and roughly. “Come, we are off!” The rude voice bellowed into her ear, and she was pulled into standing after the ropes were cut from behind her.

  “What? Where are we going?”

  “Your father wishes to leave. It is not safe here in the middle of this brutish wilderness.” The guard pulled her and Sean towards horses, their hands still tied. In all the time she was asleep, the camp had transformed, reduced to nothing. Even the fires were stomped into darkness. Her heart began to race. Where would they be going? And why? She knew what her fate was going to be, but she was not yet ready for it. She had not had time to prepare for death and disappointment.

  Sean and Isabelle stumbled towards the horses, being pushed onto them with the assistance of the guards. Their hands remained tied, and their horses were tied to others so that they could not dream of escape. She wondered idly where the carriage had gone that she’d been so used to traveling in with her father. With her little bit of sleep, renewed life began to stir in Isabelle’s breast. Perhaps there was some hope of survival with their departure? Perhaps there was something?

  She saw Martin scuttle by as he made preparations to leave. She whispered into the night, “Martin, where are we going? What is this?”

  Martin stopped and turned to her, looking up into her face as she sat atop a horse. “It is not safe. The guards were meant to inform you. We have heard rustlings in the woods. We are too exposed. He wishes to conduct the executions at the Fort.” He turned away, a slight smile on his face.

  What had happened to Martin in all these years? Why the man is practically gleeful at my demise! She chewed on his words, lifting her head to the stars. This time, she prayed for mercy, hoping that somewhere someone would find them and rescue them. She had seen it in her dreams, a blurry vision of Eamon rushing through the trees to slaughter the men who held her captive, truly captive this time. It had given her the calming rest she had been needing, but once she awoke, it was only to be replaced with cold despair.

  Execution. She saw the word etched across the canvas of her brain. It seemed foreign, unreadable to her mind. Had she ever thought she would be here, resigned to this of all fates? She glanced at Sean, who stared back, hollowness in his gaze.

  With the bellowed call of her father, the convoy began to move, and she gripped tightly to the saddle, determined to find a way out.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Eamon and Lukas decided to return to the forest to Eamon’s chagrin. They were moving slowly now, their minds wondering what could have happened to the group that had been there but had suddenly disappeared like mist into the night. They slowed at their old camp, but Eamon did not get off his horse. He could not stay any longer in this woods, which held their fate in its hands, filling them with dread.

  “Lads, I cannae stay another night in this forest. I say we return tae the village, find the remaining Scots and return to fight Cutler with what numbers we have.”

  The men nodded from their horses, feeling the same heavy spirit as Eamon. Harold said, “But we dinnae know where they could be. Where do we go from there?”

  “I do,” said a soft voice in the quiet from behind Eamon. At first, he did not know where it came from.

  “Do ye, lass?” Eamon turned to try and face her.

  She stammered out, “I believe I do. There is only one place where Lord Cutler would go if he would not complete his duties here.”

  “Where?” he cried, but he knew once he’d asked. “The Fort. Am I right?”

  She nodded in the silence, and he ground his teeth together, ready to meet his fate.

  * * *

  Her father and his men did not rest overnight. They rode and rode, and Isabelle was wavering between the sleeping and the waking world. She began to feel a heat pulse through her body in waves, and when she woke intermittently, she had to wipe the sweat from her brow. It felt eternal, this ride towards death, and she almost wished for it to happen because waiting for it was worse than the actual act, at least she felt it to be so.

  At times, she thought she glimpsed Donovan riding nearby, but she couldn’t decide. His horse was far, attached to another soldier, and she fell back into darkness once she spotted his face. What if it was possible that her father had kept him alive? Perhaps there was some mercy in his heart?

  Then, she realized that he would only add to the number of executions on that day, that fateful day that her father would decide. She had not seen him since that night when he sent her to her fate. He had been busy, yelling and bustling about with his men, leading the way towards Fort William over the silent green hills, under the bright sunlight, and under the faded stars. Eventually, she saw the familiar façade of stone that had housed her for months since their arrival in Scotland.

  She closed her eyes, feeling weaker by the moment. She had barely been given water and food, and any breaks they had, they only took time to relieve themselves. Hands pulled at her arms, and she felt herself being pulled down to the ground. She hadn’t yet opened her eyes, and she didn’t want to. She knew what was inside of that stone, and she could not bear to think of it. But the thought of Sean and his own fears made her open her eyes. They had arrived at twilight, and she could see the torches blazing proudly into the night, and she wished fruitlessly to be given a comfortable bed and a warm meal.

  Instead, without seeing her father’s face, she and Sean were taken inside the Fort, drawn into the dungeon, and pushed inside together. A few moments later, a third body was thrust in between them, and she pulled away in shock.

  “Donovan. It is you!” His bruised and bloodied face looked back at her pitifully. What would Arya think of the man she had formed an affection for?

  He nodded in return. “Mistress. I see ye are here with us now.” His voice was raspy and weak, and she could see a few scars on his body. Her heart ached for what her father had done. She wanted to rage at the world for putting her into such a family. How could her long-passed mother have ever thought to be with such a man!

  She simmered with anger and despair at the same time, not knowing which emotion to feel more strongly. Despite her fatigued state, the fact that they had slowed and finally were sitting at rest, allowed her to sit and think about how she had arrived here.

  Sean touched his hand to Donovan’s shoulder. “It is good tae see ye again, lad. I had nae hope of ever seeing yer face. And Gareth?”

  A sound was emitted from Donovan’s throat, and Isabelle looked away, knowing that it was a mix between a cry and a scream. “He has fallen. That bastard Cutler has run him through with a heated blade!”

  His voice was turning thick with sadness, and Isabelle could feel the emotion in the room as he cried out into the space of the dungeon. Sean was silent and nodded mournfully for his friend. Isabelle felt the need to apologize for her father, but why? What he had done was unforgivable, and she would no longer pretend that she and he had any ties. She would not take on his great debt to mankind or the pain he had caused. It was not she that had done so.r />
  He had gone his own way, forged his own path, and left sense and decorum behind a long time ago. She wanted to weep for the fact, but she realized the fruitlessness of that act. Why should she shed tears for a man who had not a moral bone in his body?

  Soon steps were heard clambering down the dungeon steps, moving furiously towards them in the dimness of the lower rooms. She knew it would be someone to tell them of their fate. To her surprise, it was her own father’s face that appeared on the other side of the iron bars, smiling at the two men who sat pitifully on the floor, tied up and weak.

  He did not look at her, and she knew why. He was angry at her betrayal. She knew he had hope for her to take over, but now it was all lost. She looked down at her dirtied boots, wondering what he would say next.