by Ria Cantrell
“I dinna’ start this fight. Ye’ raided our land. Ye’ let yer’ men lay waste to our meadows and set out traps for me or my kin.”
“What…what is wrong with yer’ voice?”
Rory knew that when he was trying to block the Darkness, his voice changed. He knew it sounded more like a growl than his regular speaking timber. He could not control it. It was part of the sickness.
“T’is from the smoke,” he lied. But as he said those words, the MacDougal could see Rory was speaking carefully.
Hold on, Rory. Push the Darkness back. For Brielle; you must hold on for Brielle. Rory fought with himself. The MacDougal did not press him further, realizing that mayhap some of the legends about the Wolf of the Highlands were born on truth after all. At any rate, Stephen MacDougal knew that this was not a man to be trifled with. He could see there was a raging fury inside the man he had captured and he knew better than to provoke it. He would hold his tongue for the remainder of the journey to MacDougal Keep. Keeping a wary eye on his prisoner, MacDougal charged their retinue forward.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Caleb and Shawn carefully picked their way to Castle Campbell. Caleb was certain Brielle had been taken there. Besides getting there, they didn’t have much of a plan. Caleb knew the brothers were unpredictable and cruel. He even thought that quite possibly they had deteriorated almost to the point of complete madness. He wasn’t sure they would be able to be effective in rescuing Brielle, but he knew he had to do everything he could and try.
Oh, the tongue lashing Morag had given him! Imagine being the Laird of the clan and yet, that old woman had made him feel like a boy caught with his hands in his pants! With a sigh, Caleb thought, she was right. He had failed. If a laird could not protect one wee lass, how could he be the leader of a clan? The weight of Brielle’s abduction weighed heavily on Caleb MacCollum that day.
*****
Jerome dragged Brielle before Roderick. She was so weak and battered from the trip, she stumbled forward. Her heart was broken and she had little fight left in her.
“By God, ye’ look like hell, Gabrielle. Ye’ dishonor yer’ clan and for what? Look at ye’! Ye’ dare to wear his plaid before me. And ye’ stand before me looking more like a street whore than a highland lady, and this when I had ye’ set well to live in a rich man’s manor.”
“What do ye’ want from me? I dunna’ look like this from the MacCollums. T’is yer’ man who did this to me. They have treated me like a queen. They have aided me and cared for me.”
“What of yer’ husband, Gabrielle?”
“He was an old sick man…He didn’t love me…and he died. I know ye’ didn’t want me…why couldn’t ye’ leave me alone?”
“Because ye’ dishonor me and ye’ dishonor the clan.”
“The clan? There is no clan. Ye’ saw to that. All that is left are renegade outlaws. I am ashamed to be called Campbell because of what ye’ have done to the clan. Grandfather would be horrified at what ye’ have done to ‘the clan’.”
Roderick’s hand, swift and stinging slapped her hard. She was almost numb to it at this point. Nothing mattered anymore, anyway. If she could not be with Rory, there was no physical hurt that could break her. And, she couldn’t be with Rory. She would never endanger his life at the hands of her twisted brothers. With eyes glazed over, Brielle barely even flinched as he struck her.
She said, “Ye’ can abuse me all ye’ want but I know the truth.”
“Well after yer’ precious warrior comes for ye’, and I finish him, as I should have years ago, ye’ are going back to Val ‘Cour.”
At this proclamation, Brielle’s restraint snapped.
“It was you…you are the one who killed Rory’s betrothed. I didna’ want to believe it.”
The sneer that twisted Roderick’s lips made Brielle know that he had been completely taken over by evil. He said, “The arrow was meant for him, only his harlot got in the way. I understand she was breeding his spawn…how lucky we prevented bringing more of the Rabid Wolf’s offspring into the world.”
Suddenly feeling like a madwoman herself, Brielle flew at Roderick, screaming, “She was just a girl. She never did anything to ye’…Ye’ bloody bastard!”
Roderick almost seemed amused by her outburst. He laughed at her as she lunged for him with the maniacal cackle that foretold of his madness. Brielle clawed at his face, scratching a deep line into his cheek. He cursed as she tried to strike at him, but he grabbed her hair and yanked it hard, causing her to snap her head back and wince.
“I see ye’ and she have much in common, only know this. If ye’ carry his seed, I promise to choke the life out of his spawn upon its birth.”
Brielle kicked at him as hard as she could, but he managed to sidestep the blow. Smiling like an evil specter, Roderick said, “Take this whore out of my sight. I can smell the stench of the MacCollum taint about her. And burn that filthy plaid so I may never see it disgrace these halls again.”
Jerome McManus nodded in a bow of acquiescence. Dragging the girl up the stairs, he looked forward to stripping her of that plaid and watching her cry as he tossed it to burn on the dung heap in the bailey. She thought she was so high and mighty. She had emasculated him and he was going to make her to pay.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Caleb had camped outside of Castle Campbell for three days. The keep was in horrible disrepair. Parts of the outer bailey were actually crumbling in ruin. There was no teaming village life surrounding the keep. Only a handful of ill cared for serfs resided in small huts on the outskirts. Caleb tried to remember the layout of the keep when he had visited long ago when Old Gavin was still alive and theirs were just rival clans without an actual blood feud. He had gone to the Campbell keep for a war council, but he had been so young then. His own father had still been Laird.
Caleb pondered it and dug deep into his memory. He could see the battlements were not well guarded. Still it would be dangerous to try to sneak past whatever watch there was. These men were not honor-bound; therefore there were no rules of engagement to be followed. The only thing he could do would be to sneak in to the keep as one of the local gentry bearing breads and grain. That part had been easy. The down-trodden man was no match for Shawn, who had accosted the shuffling servant. He demanded the man hand over his cloak and wares. Shawn restrained the man while Caleb donned the disguise.
No one really paid him much mind as he hobbled his way inside. He kept his head bowed, but tried to scope out the site. He put the bread and grain into the buttery and then snuck through the corridor. He was horrified at the disrepair of the castle. Old Gavin Campbell must be spinning in his grave at the terrible state of his legacy. There was actually refuse and garbage piled in the corners of many of the rooms. The fetid smell of rancid food wafted into Caleb’s nostrils and he fought the urge to gag. He was certain he saw rodents scurrying through the debris in much more abundance than in a keep that was well maintained.
The normal castle gentry that were needed to manage a keep were far and few. Tapestries and draperies hung in tatters. Caleb had to find Brielle. He could not leave her in this dreadful place, but he did not know where to look. Brielle could have been anywhere. Caleb hoped that she was not locked in some dungeon because he would never find her, if that were the case. Caleb ducked into the shadows when he saw a man approaching. It was none other than Roderick Campbell, who was carrying a flagon of wine into the antechamber near the great hall, staggering, already well into his cups.
After Roderick had locked himself into the room, Caleb carefully and silently stole up the main staircase. He hoped there was a solar or a bedchamber close at hand. With the hood shadowing his face, he slunk through the hallway, peering in doorways, hoping to at least get a glimpse of Brielle. Most of the rooms were devoid of furnishings, as if they had all been sold off at one time or another. With each room he entered, Caleb’s frustration grew as he could not find Brielle. Some of the rooms were locked, and though the doors look
ed rotted with age, and he could easily batter his way through, Caleb knew that would alert someone of his presence, so he just set to the task of searching the unlocked rooms.
Caleb's heart was full of dread that perhaps Brielle was locked below…or God forbid, worse! He did not want to think that harm had befallen the mate of his youngest son. He had to concentrate not to think the worst and continue on his quest to find the girl. He knew her life depended on it. He heard footfalls approaching and he dashed inside a small dark room, closing the door behind him. What he saw when he turned gave him the strength he needed, for there sitting woodenly facing a window was the very lass…their little Brielle.
Only, upon gazing at her, Caleb thought there was something terribly amiss. What was wrong with her? His heart thudded and he blew out a sigh of relief, only upon looking at her, Caleb’s distress rose further. It was like she was entranced; mayhap even drugged. When the door clicked home, he noticed her flinch, but she remained mostly still. Caleb went to her and knelt next to her and he touched her hand. She jerked her hand from his touch, as if some horror awaited her.
Throwing back his hood, he said, “Lass, I’ve come to take ye’ home.”
In a dazed stare, Brielle thought she was seeing a ghost. She had been sure that Caleb was dead. As she could feel the warmth of his hand on her, the reality hit her that he was still quite alive and she burst into tears. Brielle threw her arms around him. The dazed spell was momentarily broken.
“Oh Caleb…Jerome told me he killed ye.”
“Nah lassie, he never even laid a hand on me. Come now. Shawn is waiting, too. We are going to take ye’ home.”
At his words, Brielle seemed to sink back into despondency. Brielle knew she could not oblige him. The blank look came back into her eyes and she broke from his embrace.
“I canna’ go wi’ ye’.”
She backed away from him as if he was a monster come to claim her and he said, “Of course ye' can. T’is my fault ye’ were taken. Can ye' forgive me, lass?”
She raised her tearstained face to Caleb and he gasped. She had been beaten more than once. Her face bore the marks from repeated strikes.
“Caleb…this is my world. I dunna’ belong in yers.”
“Of course ye’ do. Ye’ are Ruiri’s wife.”
She burst out, “Nay. I am not. Ruiri was…a mistake. I mean…I am grateful for what he did for me, but I dunna’ love him.”
She nearly choked on the bitter lie.
“Brielle, I know that is not true. Dunna’ break my lad’s heart. Come home with me now.”
Mustering up her courage to portray her act, she said, “Ruiri did not come for me…ye’ did. Ruiri does not love me. He has been the embodiment of the Legendary Wolf too long. I was naught more than a passing fancy. Ruiri’s heart has forgotten how to love. I belong here. This is my world and Ruiri would do well not to tread too close to this world. We are too different, he and I. He is the son of a powerful laird, and a prosperous clan. I dunna’ fit in his world…or yers’.”
Caleb knew she was lying. She was terrified; he could see that. She was mentally and physically abused by the hands of these monsters.
“They have hurt ye’, lass, I see that. Ye’ must come with me. I canna’ leave ye’ here.”
Anger boiled over in her voice. She had to make Caleb understand. She had to convince him, or else it would end up with Rory or more of their clan being killed. Brielle would never let that transpire.
“Don’t ye’ understand? They will come back for me until…someone is killed. Please Caleb. Leave me be.”
“I canna’ leave ye’, Brielle.”
“I will be going back to Val Cour,” she lied. “It wasn’t so terrible living there. Ye’ must go now before ye’ are discovered. And ye’ must convince Ruiri not to come. Convince him I no longer love him…. that I never loved him.” Again, her throat closed even speaking those lies.
“Ye’ are a very bad liar, Brielle.”
“I don’t love him,” she stated again. “I confused gratitude with love.”
A muscle flexed in Caleb’s jaw, so much like her precious Rory’s was want to do. Quiet fury raged inside him.
“So ye’ will not come with me after I risked safety to come for you.”
Brielle did regret that, but she had to think of the future; a future where the clan MacCollum was safe; a future without her Ruiri. That meant she had to be believable in her resolve.
“I am sorry Caleb. I canna’ go with ye’.”
Caleb did not miss that she said ‘cannot’, and not ‘Will Not’. So, that was it. She was terrified. Still he persisted in saying, “Ruiri deserves to hear it from yer’ own lips, Brielle. Ye’ owe him that much.”
She laughed bitterly. “And just how shall I do that? He sent ye’ to come for me instead of coming himself.”
Caleb’s head dropped. “He didna’ send me lass…because he has not yet returned.”
Once again, Brielle felt the squeezing of her heart in her chest. She couldn’t take much more and she could not uphold her lies too much longer, either. She wanted to scream that of course she loved Rory; that she would always love him. The lies tasted like bitter bile in her throat, but she could not admit it, not now, not ever…when admitting that would put him in more danger. She had to follow through with her ruse; else Rory would be lead to a trap.
Brielle would sooner die than lead him to certain death after being hideously tortured; for she was sure Roderick would not let Rory die quickly. That thought struck fear in her heart to the point of swooning. Just the thought of the cruel painful things Roderick could do to her beloved Rory made her sick inside. But now, Caleb said he had not returned. Mayhap he was already hurt…or worse. She prayed silently for his safety.
“Caleb, ye’ must go. I will send Ruiri a letter to explain and to apologize.”
“A letter? Ye’ think the Ancient Rite can be undone with a letter?”
I know it cannot! “Nay, but it is the best I can do. When he comes home, convince him not to come here. It will only get him killed.”
So there it was. Brielle still loved his son; so much so that she did not want him to endanger himself. But what she should have understood was that Rory would never accept that. Nor would he ever give up on Brielle. Caleb knew she could not comprehend that. No one had ever stood up for her. No one had ever made her feel like she was worth something. She only knew pain and rejection. She had only been made to feel worthless.
She had been well acquainted with violence. Caleb knew his son would never let her go. In Brielle’s pain and fear, she was so very brave. She was willing to sacrifice her life for Rory. She would rather lie to save Rory than have him come to harm. She would rather risk her own life than have Ruiri save her from a world of abuse. And Caleb knew her life was indeed at risk. She was unhealthily thin and she bore bruises that spoke of repeated violence. Caleb was certain Roderick Campbell could and would cause his sister to suffer abuse or worse; even death after torture. He did not want to think of the things this monster could do to this precious girl. Caleb knew that she could not take much more abuse and he was certain Roderick would happily kill her once her usefulness was past. Caleb held her, drawing her to his chest. She did not hug him back, trying to keep her careful ruse at the surface. She would not come with him. He knew that now. Rory would have to settle this. He hated to leave her there. She had already suffered so much. He felt her sob against his shoulder. She was breaking his heart.
“Lassie, I wish ye’ would not make me leave ye’ here.”
“It is all I can do.”
Ye’ can come home with me. Be with Ruiri.
Her eyes flew to Caleb’s and she said, “I can’t.” Tears ran down her face and she choked. “Ye’ must go now. I am sorry.”
“Me too, lassie. For everything.”
She nodded and turned away, staring back out of the window.
He won’t believe ye’.
I know…make him believe me. Cal
eb, you have to convince him. I will not have his blood on my hands.
Defeated, Caleb silently left the room. He made his way slowly out of that main hall, he picked up the baskets and left the buttery. Caleb was amazed that the keep had so few people that even a cook was not available there to detain him. What sort of life had he left Brielle to? His heart was sick thinking about the squalor he witnessed, not to mention the sight of her beaten and broken. Caleb knew she had made her decision to spare Rory, but her life was in danger.
In all his years as laird of his clan, this dilemma was by far the most disturbing. His sense of honor made him not want to leave her, but he also did not want to force her, for then he would be no better than her brothers. Part of him wanted to dash back up those stairs and carry her down kicking and screaming just to get her out of this horrible place. Still, doing such a thing would be as bad as what had already befallen her.
With a heavy heart, Caleb made his way out of the keep. He felt horrible, but he knew that as soon as Rory returned, he would come for Brielle. He was sure those drunken untrained men would be no match for Rory. He prayed that Rory would make it back soon. The lass would not survive long under these deplorable conditions. And worse than the prospect of physical harm, Caleb saw the light leaving her eyes. Denying his son had cost her dearly. She was dying inside. Caleb knew about that sort of death; a death born of heartbreak. Rory knew it well, too, which is why Caleb knew time was short.
Upon their return to their own keep, Caleb saw that the stables were full. His sons had returned, thank the Lord. He rushed into the main hall and was met with the grim faces of two of his sons and a murderous looking Morag. Christ! Now what? Where the hell was Rory? Morag nearly flew at him and demanded, “Where is the girl?”
“She refused my help. What has happened?”
Liam spoke up. “Rory left for home near a week ago. He felt like something bad had happened to Brielle.”