by Barbara Bard
Those days were over though. Better ones would follow. The war was behind them and she did not have to worry about Lord Flynn haunting her. There were troubles, of course, but in time she was sure that she would be able to convince Catherine that this was the place she belonged in, free of the overbearing presence of her father.
Sarah turned away from the window and looked back at her new love. Drew looked so peaceful. When she first saw him she had thought him a barbaric man, a savage brute who cared for nothing other than war and blood. The more she had grown to know him, the more she found that he had great depth and a deep sensitivity. She could not believe she loathed his kind all her life. Now she was married to one of them and all the hatred has melted away.
Leaving the window, she returned to bed and pulled the rough blanket over her, nestling into Drew again. He stirred a little and turned. She leaned into him and closed her eyes, ready to let the night fall upon her, even though part of her was afraid that she would awake in the woods and find out that this was all a dream.
No, she told herself. This wasn't a dream at all. This was really happening to her. She had found a man with whom she could spend the rest of her life. She had found a place where she could be happy and safe. A place she can start a family. She had found a new purpose. Breathing deeply, she let the sounds of the revelry fade into the night.
“Drew, you have no idea how happy you've made me,” she whispered.
Sarah went to sleep with thoughts of Drew on her mind, thoughts of the future and the life they would have together, filled with children and happiness. They would be a family, and she would raise her children in a way that her own parents never could. She would make up for the tragedy that had befallen her younger self by showing others the kindness and compassion that would hopefully spread and prove that war was unnecessary.
In Drew's arms she fell asleep, for the first time hopeful about meeting tomorrow.
Highlander’s Captive – Preview (with Enhanced & New Scenes)
Chapter 1
The camp was a frightful place, almost as loud as the battle. Fires were lit across a field, and in the distance a castle loomed, blotting out the stars. Different clans coming together to savor the sweetness of victory. The men and women acted like animals, singing and rejoicing in their victory. There seemed to be no dignity in them, for they did not mourn their dead at all.
Catherine looked at the boy sitting with his back to her, entirely taken aback by his display of aggression. The stench of alcohol hung around him and she knew she could not like her chances of living here. Sarah had promised her that she would find happiness here, but at the moment she did not understand how that was possibly going to happen.
The day had been filled with surprises already. Rosemary had not turned out to be Rosemary at all, which now made sense when she thought about how frightened and worried the girl had been all the time. As it happened, her brother's intended bride had not been a Sassenach lady called Rosemary, but a simple girl named Sarah, and she had been Rosemary's handmaid, who lied about her identity to keep herself safe when she came to the Flynn estate.
What hurt most was how she had simply run away and abandoned Catherine as the war broke out. At the first sight of the battle Catherine had had to retreat into her carriage to try and block out the battle, but it was impossible. The air had been filled with the thunder of war cries and the mournful sounds of men in their death cries. At the time Catherine had hoped to share the experience with her friend, but at first glance Sarah had left, and Catherine was alone.
Then there was the death of her brother. Catherine knew she should have felt sadder about it, but while she had shed some tears over his death she was not as devastated as she thought she should have been. She was angrier at the Highlanders than anything. Harold had died as he had lived. He'd always been reckless and thrown himself into fights when he should have been more prudent. Father would be most disappointed in him.
And then, to top it all off, Catherine had suffered the indignity of being carried away as a common prisoner! And Sarah acted as though she was doing her a favor!
Part of her could understand why Sarah had brought her back from the Sassenach camp, and in truth Catherine had to admit that she was glad to be free from her father's shackles. With Harold's death, Catherine knew that her father would move with haste to arrange a marriage for her with some old fool who would get her inheritance while she continued the family legacy.
For all of Sarah's best efforts, Catherine had only escaped that fate for a short time. She knew that he would come to free her, and to gain revenge for Harold's death. It was inevitable that her fate was to be married off to a man. The best she could hope for was that he gave her a child and then died soon after.
Catherine didn't understand how Sarah could think that she'd be happy in this place. Yes, it was pleasing to not have to think about being married off, but where was the luxury? Where was the comfort? Sarah seemed to be happy with the man she had found but being a simple handmaiden, Catherine was quite sure that she was not the best judge of character.
As for Rosemary, the real Rosemary, Catherine didn't understand. She never came to marry Harold, had indeed chosen a life with one of these brutes rather than a life with her brother. For all his faults, Catherine couldn't imagine how any lady could choose a life with a Highlander over one with a Sassenach gentleman. Perhaps in time, when she spoke to them properly, they would be able to explain themselves to her. Until then, Catherine would have to remain confused.
She was distracted by her thoughts when another man approached the guard. When he came closer she could see that it was the man who Sarah claimed to love. Catherine was unable to deny that he was a handsome man, in a rough, savage kind of way. He went about with a fierce look, and the thought of being close with him made Catherine shudder.
She had no idea what was running through Sarah's mind.
Drew only remained there for a short time before moving away again. A cheer rose up as he immersed himself in the camp. Her guard remained sitting, his shoulders slumped, looking isolated from the rest of his people.
It was almost enough for Catherine to pity him. Almost.
“Are you going to sit there and sulk all night?” Catherine said. “You don't seem to be a very good guard if you're going to be getting drunk on the job,” she said, more out of boredom than anything else.
The boy didn't respond. He tossed his head back towards her but didn't say anything. She shook her head. A few of the other Highlanders walked by her, looking with curiosity. Some of them hurled abuse her way, taunting her for being a prisoner, and although she wasn't a mean person, she did wish that someone else had been captured with her so she had someone to talk to.
The Highland camp seemed to be an uncivilized place. They feasted and sang like barbarians, reveling in the Sassenach blood spilled. It was hardly a place of decorum, and Catherine began to look for a way to escape. She had not been raised to live in this squalor.
The night was cold, and she pulled the blanket she had been provided with over her. She looked into the distance. All around her was blackness. She was so far from home, and so alone. For the first time in her life she was truly scared for the future because she didn't have Harold to protect her, and her father was far away.
“Please come soon, Father. Please come and rescue me,” she said, feeling like a little girl.
As soon as the words left her lips, the guard pushed himself up and staggered towards her. He dropped his empty mug to the ground. Catherine recoiled in horror, having heard tales of what the brutes did to their prisoners. She would die before she gave up her maidenhood.
The guard's face snarled and looked repulsive. His eyes bulged upon his face, and his pink tongue rolled across his lips. Catherine steeled herself for the worst, putting on a stern expression, even though her insides were water.
“Get up,” he growled.
“I beg your pardon?”
“Get up. I hae been told
tae move ye.”
“Well, I shan't go,” Catherine said, folding her arms defiantly. She knew that if she gave into a moment of weakness, she would never be able to fight back. It was important to maintain her strength.
Declan pressed his lips together and sighed. Catherine's heart spiked, was there a chance for freedom? But no. Although he had the looks of a teenager, Declan had a strapping build and would easily catch her if she ran.
“I dinnae care what ye will or won't dae. I hae been told tae move ye, and that is what I shall dae. Ye will only be causing trouble for the both of us if ye dinnae dae as I say.”
Without a moment's hesitation he strode up to Catherine and grabbed her arm, hauling her away. Catherine dug her heels into the ground, but even that wasn't enough to resist the force of his grip. He indeed was stronger than he looked, and it was impressive how he was so easily able to drag her across the ground, but it didn't fill Catherine with anything other than more anger.
She looked around at the dark land, so frightening with the jagged branches of the trees forming a perimeter around their camp. The fires crackled nearby, and leering laughter sounded as she was dragged by Declan towards the castle.
“Where are you taking me?!” she demanded, but Declan would not speak. He barely turned to look at her, and Catherine truly feared for her life. If he killed her in the darkness of night, it was unlikely that her screams would be heard over the revelry.
But surely Sarah would not let her die? Then again, Catherine didn't know the true Sarah. The woman she had come to know had been a facade, an illusion, and there was no telling what she was capable of. If she could betray her heritage and fall in love with a Highlander, was it so difficult to believe that she could want Catherine dead?
Perhaps Catherine had been too hasty in declaring her enmity. Maybe the two Highlanders, Blair and Drew, thought she was too much of a liability and would only cause trouble. Surely they had control and would do whatever they liked, without having to consult the women?
Fear began to rise through her body. Sweat beaded on her temples as she realized that these could be her last moments in life. Never again would she breathe the air, or taste freedom.
She stumbled as they moved through the camp, and only just about managed to keep her balance. There was no sympathy from Declan either, who pulled her so hard she was sure that her arm would be wrenched from her socket.
A whimper fell out of her mouth as her body shuddered as her feet thundered against the ground. All around her were the faces of savages, their heads tossed back, dark mouths open with laughter, thick hair matted with sweat, the stench of beer and roasted meat hanging in the air. She saw more than a few women sitting on the men's laps, their bodies dwarfed by the men's strong paws, clawing at them, and she could only shudder as she thought about what fate lay in store for them.
Tears trickled down her cheeks for she was certain that her end was near. They approached the looming castle, which looked even more foreboding now that she was closer. The gray blocks were smooth and uncaring, uneven, unlike the house in which she had lived all of her life. The air was cold as well, and the tower rose up to touch the stars.
Her old house had been beautiful and loving, surrounded by devoted servants and colorful flowers. This was a fortress, a place far from civility, and she didn't understand how any Sassenach lady could willingly live here.
“Where are you taking me?” she pleaded, but again Declan wouldn't say. He dragged her in through the door and took her up the steps, her feet echoing against the narrow stone. The winding staircase rose up and up through the castle. Catherine didn't know what horror awaited her.
They came to a hallway. Declan dragged her down and then threw her in a room.
“Ye will stay here until ye are needed,” he said, then slammed the door so loudly that the sturdy walls shook.
Catherine wiped tears from her eyes as she dragged herself to the bed. The room in which she found herself was little better than a cell, and a far cry from her chambers at home. The room was largely empty. There was a bed, which was basically a cot with a rough blanket thrown over it. A worn thin rug lay on the floor. A trunk sat in one corner of the room. Catherine ran over to open it, hoping that it would hold something she could make use of, but it was empty.
Tilting her head back, Catherine sighed loudly, bemoaning her current situation. She walked across the room to the window and gazed out. Her room was on the rear side of the castle, meaning that she was away from most of the revelry. The horizon stretched out to the north, even further from the land she knew and loved, the land she called home.
What she gazed upon was a land of horror, of nightmares and death. The darkness of night lay upon it like a cloak, but even in the light she was sure that it would hold nothing for her other than bleak despair. Even being alive was small comfort, for her mind was brimming with dreadful thoughts of what could befall her when held captive in this nasty land.
There were so many people at fault for this, and none of them were her. Sarah, the Highlanders, even her brother for bringing her to war in the first place were all to blame, and now she was the only one suffering. It just wasn't fair.
Tearing herself away from the window, Catherine tried to maintain her steely resolve, but she was glad for a few moments of respite. Whilst she was hidden in this room she did not have to play the role of a tough woman, she could let the fear come up and indulge her weakness.
Sinking into the bed, she let the tears burst out of her. They flowed as easily as the ale outside, but her whimpers did not carry out of the window like the sounds of laughter that rose and surrounded her, offering her a constant reminder that she was a stranger in a strange land.
She tried to sleep, hoping that it would take away her fear, but slumber would not come. The bed was hard underneath her body, and her bones began to ache. The revelry began to die down, the noises around her fading, although some of the Highlanders stayed awake the entire night.
Catherine looked at the walls around her with envy. Somewhere inside Sarah and Rosemary were there with her, warm and comfortable, yet still so far from her. She wondered why she had been thrown in this barren room if Sarah wielded enough influence to get her captured in the first place. It would be one of the many questions Catherine would ask when she saw Sarah again.
It was tempting to try and break free of the room to find them and get these matters dealt with immediately. The window was too narrow to climb through comfortably, and even if she did manage to squirm through there were no ledges upon which to land. It was a sheer drop to the ground, and death would be certain.
Catherine walked to the door, pressing her head against it to try and hear anything from the other side. The guard was sound asleep. Catherine shook her head in disbelief. If this was the best kind of guard they could find for her then it amazed her that they were ever able to defeat her brother in battle in the first place. It almost deserved an escape. Since she couldn't sleep, Catherine tested the doorknob, but it was locked firm. There was no way out, but there would be a way eventually though, of that she was sure.
“Well, Catherine, this is the biggest test you've ever faced, but you'll find a way out, and then you'll make these Highlanders pay,” she vowed. Harold had fallen in battle, but she was still alive, and she would make her father proud.
With that last thought she returned to the uncomfortable bed and pulled the scratchy blanket over her, wincing at the feel of it against her soft skin. She closed her eyes and prayed that the following day would be better than this one, and that she would be able to find out what Sarah's true plan for her was. If she could just reason with her then perhaps she could convince the Highlanders to let her go. If she could make it back to England then she could tell her father all she knew, and help to defeat the Highlanders once and for all.
Chapter 2
Declan awoke with a start and a groan. Immediately he lifted his hands to his head, cradling his aching mind. The ale he had drunk the pre
vious night had taken its toll. His mind felt as though it was being stabbed with daggers, and his stomach churned to such an extent that it was as though a horse stampeded through his body.
He was a built muscular man, blessed with the charming looks of a teenager. It was easy to be carried away with his boyish looks but once you got past the fine face, he oozed nothing but manliness and sheer strength. 6ft tall, lump of red hair, broad shoulders and always with a brooding look when sober. He walked about like the weight of the entire world was on his shoulder.
Ever since when his father got injured in the crossfires of war, he had been trying to prove to everyone, especially his cousins that he was capable of being a warrior but all his effort had been futile. Now there was an ongoing war and all that had been handed down to him was to guard the spoilt Sassenach girl whose brother his cousin Drew just killed in battle.