Fianna Leighton - Tales of Clan Mackay

by Return to the Highlands

  Nicholas shook his head, a wry smile curving his mouth. “That makes no sense, Ann.”

  “Aye, well a heart seldom does, lad.” Ann heaved a sigh and stood up. “Now rest, so when yer wife returns she'll find ye hale if not yet hearty. And make her know how much ye love her, aye?”

  Nicholas gave her another wry smile. “That I can and intend to do.”

  Ann patted his knee and left the room, wondering if he'd heard a thing she'd said.

  ***

  They traveled for most of the day, stopping briefly, and then moving on. The snow hampered them little, the stout highland horses well used to the rocky paths. Sutherland gave them no clue to where they were going. The winds behind them scattered snow across their footprints, burying any evidence of their passing for anyone following.

  Mary had to believe someone knew something was wrong. The guard had to come to find them gone. Would the boy tell? Would he fabricate some lie to cover their absence? Would not Nicholas sense something amiss deep in his heart? She closed her eyes, bringing him to mind, pushing such thoughts his way. But she was not a witch, nor had any way of connecting with him. She had only to remain calm, to allow Sutherland his way until some opportunity came their way to escape.

  She'd had no chance to speak to Fiona. Sutherland had kept them apart, leaving them no opportunity to make a plan to escape. She would not leave without Fiona.

  She had no doubt whatever it was the Earl had planned, it would not be good for her or Fiona, or the Mackays.

  The second evening brought them to a tiny remote castle, hidden amid the hills. It was hardly twenty paces square, straight lines jutting upwards toward the sky, stones moss covered and crumbling. The doorway stood above their heads and the one of the men stood on the back of his horse to gain entry. Once inside he pulled out a rickety ladder and lowered it to the ground. Sutherland dismounted, shoving his cloak over his shoulders. “Well, our accommodations for a bit. You should find them warm at least.”

  Fiona stepped in front of him, poking his chest with her fingers. “What do ye want of us? Have ye not had enough trouble, my lord?”

  Sutherland gripped her fingers tightly to drag her closer. “Never enough when it comes to the Mackays, lass, never. I intend to have their lands and some day I will. Any chance I have of draining them of their resources I will take. And that means you, as their healer, and Mary as the wife of their second son. Perhaps not a great loss,” he amended, glancing cruelly at Mary, “but a loss all the same. If I see things as I think I do, it will give Nicholas Mackay a great deal of trouble to find his wife has left him.”

  “I have not left him,” Mary argued, wrenching herself free of the Sutherland holding her arm. “Ye've taken us unwilling, and for that he'll find ye and kill ye when I tell him about it.”

  Sutherland only smiled in amusement. “The boy will fabricate some story to cover our tracks. The snow has done more, and he'll find it difficult to know where to head. I have all the time in the world, and you, very little.” He shoved Fiona toward the ladder. “Get inside, now. If you have any value, it is only to keep me warm.”

  Fiona glared at him, stumbling backwards. “I'll not give ye the time of day. Go to hell, with ye and yer men.”

  He struck her with an open hand, throwing her to the ground at his feet. “Ye'll do whatever it takes to stay alive.” He leaned down and grasped her hair, hauling Fiona back to her feet. “Now get inside or I'll take care of you right now. It does not matter to me when you die.”

  Mary rushed between them, shoving Fiona toward the ladder. “She is not a Mackay. She is Drummond, and by doing this, Sutherland, ye've made a new enemy for certain. Rory'll not stop till he finds her, and ye'll not be liking the dealings with my clan.”

  Sutherland laughed. “I'm not troubled with the likes of Rory Drummond or your clan. My concern is only for the Mackays. Now get inside or I'll cut your throat here and now.”

  Mary pushed Fiona up the ladder, stumbling inside behind her. The tower was damp, the roof hardly intact with a gaping hole to one side. A narrow set of steps led toward the upper part of the tower, but whatever floor had been there had rotted away. One of the Sutherland men climbed in behind them with a load of wood and began to make a fire. The chimney smoked and puffed, leaving them coughing, but soon began to draw as the fire glowed fitfully.

  The Earl settled beside it, shrugging into his cloak. Another of the Sutherland men drew in the ladder and sat down beside the doorway.

  Left relatively alone, the two women huddled together for warmth.

  Chapter 28

  Nicholas had just pulled on his shirt when the bedroom door flew open, banging against the stone wall with an echoing thud. “They've gone.”

  “I know. For too long.”

  Rory paced inside the room, his shoulders hunched like a great cat, tail lashing in his distress. “I should'na let her go alone.”

  “They had a guard, Donald said.”

  “Aye, found dead outside the tavern, buried in a snow bank, frozen. Seems someone hit him on the head,” Rory muttered. “And did anyone note his absence either? Bloody hell.”

  “Doesn't help to complain about what's done, we've simply got to figure out what happened. I've gathered everyone downstairs. We'll start at the beginning, and move on from there.”

  “But what then?” Rory complained. “Where do we start?”

  Nicholas buckled his belt, drew on a plaid and pinned it to his shoulder. The blue weave seemed heavy and oppressive. He shook off the sensation, turning toward the Drummond warrior still pacing his room. “Someone had to know when they left. We start there.”

  Rory scowled and stomped out of the room. Nicholas followed behind, forcing away the fear that threatened to destroy him, understanding Ann's complaint all too well. If only she had told him, had explained where she had gone. But would he have remembered? He didn't know. Instead they had to work it out, find out where the women had gone and why.

  After that, he and Mary would agree not to leave each other in the dark. They would always know where the other intended to be.

  Arriving downstairs, he noted the clan within the keep had gathered, all watching Donald intently.

  Nicholas stopped next to his father, greeting him with a faint nod.

  Donald lifted his hand to gain attention, needlessly for all eyes were turned toward Nicholas and his father. “I've concern that Mary and Fiona have come upon some trouble. Anyone with knowledge of them needs to step forward.”

  One of the men stood up, holding up his hand. “I was on guard the night they left, my lord. A young boy from the village came riding in hard, his mother was in labor he said and having trouble.”

  Donald nodded. “Aye, we know that, for ye spoke of it before. We found their guard dead this morning.”

  A young woman from the village stood up slowly, hands shaking so much her apron trembled. “My lord, I heard Nellie in the village has a new bairn, but she is weak and remembers nothing. Her boy, Nigel has gone missing.”

  Donald sighed, hands folded behind his back. “We must find the boy, he is the key.”

  “And if something terrible has happened?”

  “The snow has covered any tracks, we have no idea where to go,” another Mackay complained.

  Nicholas held up his hand. “There has to be a clue, or someway to find the boy. I want everyone in the village checked, and checked again. If he's hiding we'll find him.”

  The men filed out, leaving Nicholas and Donald alone, while the rest of the servants scattered nervously. Ann sat at the table, hands folded neatly in front of her.

  Rose sat beside her, her hand covering Ann's. “Hugh has already gone out to find more information,” Rose began, then stopped, her eyes meeting Nicholas’ nervously. The woman had not yet found her place in the Mackay household. Nicholas nodded at her to continue. “Sebastian felt something was amiss and left days ago, to the east he said.”

  Nicho
las sat down beside Rose. “Did he say anything else?”

  She shook her head, biting her lip. “Nay, only that he felt something was wrong. What might it be, Nicholas?”

  “I have no idea. Sutherland lies to the east, but I cannot fathom him coming into Mackay lands so boldly to kidnap our women.”

  Ann lifted a hand to her brow, blinking and then she looked at Nicholas. “No? Has he not done so already, Nicky? I fear that is exactly what has happened. He's found Mary and Fiona and has taken them, but to where? There will be trouble soon if we cannot find them, a month or two is going to leave wee Mary in dire straights.”

  Nicholas stood up slowly. “What do you mean by that, Ann?”

  She looked up at him, eyes crinkled with worry. “Ye've no clue have ye? Mary's with child, lad. She didn't want to tell ye, not yet. But she's farther along than she thinks. And with the stress of being held by Sutherland, if she's harmed, it may bring the babe even sooner.”

  Nicholas blinked away the darkness rushing toward him, found himself sitting again beside Rose, unaware he had moved. “A baby?”

  Rose gripped his hands, shivering. “Aye, she wasn't sure ye'd want a child.”

  “And why would she think that? Would she have gone to rid herself of the babe?” Nicholas gasped, horrified by the thought.

  “Ye were in such a despair, lad,” Ann explained. She looked at Rory. “She'll have Fiona, hopefully, but it may not be enough, if Sutherland means her harm. And a new babe for the Mackay, even one from Nicholas, will not be tolerated if the Earl has a choice about it. He'll know soon enough that she's with child, she'll not be able to hide it.”

  Nicholas shuddered at the thought. “Dear god, Mary.” He found a hand on his shoulder, gripping him hard, pulling him to his feet. Rory's gaze met his intently.

  “We'll find them.” Rory shook Nicholas, stepping closer until they were nearly nose to nose. “For my Fiona, for yer wife and child. We'll find them and Sutherland will find his deeds repaid dearly.” Rory turned toward his brothers, sitting on the opposite side of the table. “Are ye with us lads?”

  Malcolm smiled grimly. “Oh aye, no doubt of that. I'm thinking we send word to Da. Sutherland will be sorry he touched a hair of a Drummond's head. And the Frasier's as well, for the lass has the backing of their clan as well, even wed as ye were.”

  William nodded. “I'll ride for Da and send word to the Frasiers. It'll take some time for ye to find the Earl, for I'm sure he'll not be sitting pretty at home.” He rose to his feet. “Don't be shy about asking for aid, Mackay. We are family, no?”

  Donald grinned darkly. “Family indeed,” he said and held out his hand.

  William shook it and then gripped Malcolm's shoulder. “Keep a clear head when these two cannot. I'll be back and send word to meeting you somewhere near Sutherland land. Don't be hasty on killing the man, we've all our arses kicked by him. It’ll be my pleasure to twist a blade in his gut.”

  Nicholas watched the Drummond leave, striding through the door calling for a horse. He glanced at Malcolm and nodded, accepting the man’s assistance. Rory had begun pacing once more, his face a stormy red. Hands fisted at his sides, he was muttering to himself, words Nicholas was sure he agreed with. But a clear head was needed, just as William Drummond had said. Once he had Sutherland in hand, however, things might change.

  Chapter 29

  She didn’t know how long Sutherland would be gone. Had he reason to keep them? Did he expect some kind of ransom, leaving them hidden in the small castle, luring the Mackay elsewhere? He had left food, pitiful fare even the guard complained of, yet there was that, so the man meant not to starve them. So ransom? or Worse, bait, to draw the Mackay, certainly Nicholas, into a battle? Yet another classic case of Highland brutality, would it never end? Would they make it through this only to find them in yet another dire situation, only months later?

  She nearly wept at the thought, her hand covering her stomach. What kind of life was that for a child? She glanced at the roof, squeezing her eyes shut tightly to stem the tears that heated her face, drew in a trembling breath. No, she could not think of that, nor of destroying herself for the babe. Fiona would never allow it.

  A kick beneath her hand widened her eyes. It could not be, it was far too early for the child to be large enough to cause such sensations. Another kick, if almost mockingly, proved her it was not her imagination. Her gasp woke Fiona, who smiled, eyes still closed.

  “I knew ye would not believe me when I told ye how far along ye were.”

  “There is simply no way, Fiona. It can’t have happened so soon.”

  Fiona clicked her tongue, amused. “Takes only once, lass.”

  Mary stood up, wincing at the stiffness in her back. So much farther along than she thought. That gave her even less time. And just how to hide such a condition from Sutherland, who would only use it to his advantage, or worse, simply kill the child outright, and her along with it. She’d not let him harm the child if she had any choice.

  It was hers, and Nicholas’s. She paced the room, drawing her cloak tight. Snow sifted down from the hole in the roof. The fire sparked abruptly, sending out blazing bits of ash to land on the stone floor, glowing for only a moment before winking out in the cold.

  Mary glanced toward Fiona. “What am I to do, Fi?”

  Fiona shivered and then sat up, her gaze intent. “You do whatever ye have to, Mary, to stay alive. For the babe, for Nicholas. Whatever it takes.”

  Mary nodded, reminded of Ann, of Nicholas’ anger toward her. Had Ann any choice either in what had happened to her? Donald had not left her, if anything, the Laird of the Mackay was even closer to his wife. She could only hope Nicholas would react as his father had.

  Hoofbeats announced someone had arrived and the women moved to the doorway, opening the wooden door a bit to peek out. Sutherland had returned, with four more men at his side. He slid off his horse and glanced at the door with a grim smile.

  Mary placed her hand on her stomach, and shuddering, stepped away from the door. Whatever she had to, she vowed. Nicholas would know this child.

  ***

  Sebastian sat on the high outcrop overlooking the Northern Sea, absently flipping his small scian dubh from hand to hand. His feeling of doom remained strong, pulling him toward this barren patch of coastline. He scanned the sea, beyond the frozen chunks of ice littering the shoreline toward the heaving waves further out. Squinting away from the setting sun, he smiled as the rays gleamed off something that was not water.

  The northern coast of Scotland had been raided by many, among them the Viking hoards that still held a foothold in the outer islands of the Hebrides to the north. A Viking ship sailing this time of year was not unheard of, if foolhardy with swift onset of storms, yet they did so for supplies from the mainland coasts.

  Sebastian knew, however, that this ship was not plying trade. It was here for a reason, his gut said so, his instinct insisted upon it. Rising to his feet he scanned the shoreline. Someone would come to meet the vessel, once they found a place to gain the shore. He intended on being there, eavesdropping for now to ascertain what they intended.

  Sutherland was up to something. His demesne bordered the coastline, his dealings with the Vikings well known.

  The Mackay also dealt with the Viking as well. Would they feel honor bound to refuse whatever evils the Sutherland Earl intended, or not? One never knew with the barbaric race of men. Bastian only chuckled, knowing this would test his mettle in many ways.

  ***

  Nicholas stood next to his horse, eyes closed in an attempt to control the raging impulse to ride hell bent for somewhere. The problem was he just didn’t know where to go. Three weeks and they had yet to find some clue to where the women had been taken. The boy, their only link, was still missing. None knew if he had fled or been taken, if he was dead or alive.

  Rory muttered an oath, scowling at the hills facing them as if they were at fault. “Bloody hell, Nic
ky. I’ve no idea what to do.”

  Nicholas opened his eyes and sighed. “Nor do I, but move on we must. Something will turn up.”

  Rory stared at him in amusement and then at his brothes who had remained steadfastly with them. “Ye’ve the temper I have, how do ye keep it in?”

  Malcolm snorted faintly, his blue eyes assessing Nicholas.

  Nicholas grunted, heaving up into the saddle with a growl. “I’ll let it loose when the time is right, trust me on that. I think we should head north. There is a wee tower we can spend the night. I feel a storm coming on, not good news.”

  Malcolm looked between them, his blond hair damp from snow, mustache and beard stiff from the cold. “And I thought Drymen was freezing. They’d have to find shelter to withstand this weather.”

  Rory nodded, his blue eyes narrowed in thought. “A wee tower, ye say, all by itself?”

  Nicholas glanced at his companions. “Aye, but it’s Mackay. We use it for defense, nothing much there.”

  “And ye don’t think Sutherland might use it?” Malcolm asked quietly.

  Nicholas shook his head. “Few would want to, it’s nearly in ruins. The roof is nearly gone, the chimney hardly works anymore...” He paused, drawing back on the reins and then glanced at Rory. “Odds are I’m right.”

  “I’ll take any odds at all,” Rory muttered. “We don’t even know if Sutherland has them or not. Any news from yer men?”

  “Nay, none have yet returned from Donald. I’ve sent word back where we’ll be tonight.”

  “Aye, well, lets get on with it. Perhaps we’ll find something, if not at least a place out of the wind.”

  Nicholas urged his horse forward, brows drawn together as he considered the distant castle, if one could call the small fifty paces square tower such. Sutherland would be rash to use a Mackay stronghold. The chances of being found were high, yet were they? The Mackay had been called home to deal with the current problem, leaving the tower free. Frowning, Nicholas looked back at Rory. Clearly his thoughts were much the same as the Drummond gave him a curt nod. He could only hope the women were still there, or if not, they would, at the least,find a trail to follow.