by Ria Cantrell
“Something bad has happened to her. Wait, did ye’ say a week? Where the hell is he then?”
“We dunna’ know. He refused to take his men at arms. He just wanted to get home to her.”
“What do ye’ mean she refused yer’ help? You saw her,” Morag demanded.
God, the last thing Caleb wanted to deal with right now was this harpy, admonishing him yet again. He was laird of the clan, dammit and he deserved some respect. He pulled in his breath and he said, “She has denied my son and wants to stay at Campbell Keep. Oh, and a more disgusting place ye’ will not find.”
“And ye’ let her make that choice? She is not thinking clearly. She is bound to Ruiri.”
“Cease, woman. She has been beaten, daily it would seem. She looked sickly and weak. She is scared to death…but not for herself. For herself she is resigned to her fate. She is scared for Ruiri. She cares not for her own safety but she fears her brothers want to kill Rory and I must say, I actually agree. So she thinks if Ruiri believes she doesna’ love him, he will stay away from Campbell and not get killed.”
“Nothing will keep Ruiri away. No amount of danger. He took the ancient binding rite. He will not break it,” Morag said adamantly.
Caleb looked at Morag. “Old woman, do ye’ sense danger for my son? Is he in trouble?”
She concentrated, as she had done since his brothers had returned. Frowning, so that the wrinkles in her face deepened, she said, “I do not know. I canna’ feel him. T’is like he is blocked. I dunna feel that he is hurt or…worse, but something is wrong. He has blocked me…Caleb…that means the Darkness fills his heart again.”
Caleb knew that Morag’s gift of Sight was strong and so too, he knew that when Rory felt the Darkness, he would block himself off to protect others from experiencing the supposed taint. Only Caleb knew that the only one who really needed protection from that “Darkness” was Rory himself.
Rory confused grief and pain with a supposed Darkness that was just his own. His son was not the monster legend had made him out to be. Sure, he was a strong fighter, driven to the fray at any cost, but Caleb knew Rory never abused those he loved when he was in the throes of the Darkness.
Caleb ran his hand through his hair. By God, he was tired. Blowing out his breath in a heavy sigh he said, “Alright. Well, I will go into the highlands and find him.”
Morag softened her stance and said, “Ye’ must rest a wee bit and then go. Ye’ look tired, Caleb.” When she called him by his name, he knew she was trying to make amends for being so gruff.
“The sooner I set out, the sooner I find my son and help him and the sooner he will be able to bring Brielle home.”
“A few hours will not change things. Ye’ will be of no use if ye’ dunna’ rest. I will send up a bath fer ye’.”
Caleb nodded. She was right. He did need a rest, only he could not get Brielle out of his mind. That lost look in her eyes, like one whose spirit was broken. He had seen it often in his own son.
Ah, Ruiri, where are ye’ lad? Yer’ girl needs ye’.
Chapter Twenty-Nine
It had been nearly two and half weeks that Rory was the reluctant “guest” of the MacDougal. He worked with the men tirelessly during the day and at night after his evening meal; he would be locked in his quarters to prevent him from leaving during the night. Except for the confinement, he was actually well treated. The men accepted his commands and looked to him for leadership. ‘Course, they were instructed to obey by the MacDougal. Still, Rory was actually amazed that they considered him their captain. Never the less, he was restless. He paced around his bedchamber, filled with frustrated energy despite the long hours in training. He should, by all rights, be exhausted, but he was not. Brielle was in trouble. He knew it.
Every time he tried to reach out to her in his mind, he felt that squeezing around his heart. It felt like her heart was broken. He had to find out what had happened to his love. He had to save her. His very life depended on it. He felt the Darkness creeping back into his soul. Brielle’s light and love had dispelled it. Without her presence, it easily found a home within him.
He prayed silently, “Please be alright. Please dunna’ die. I will come for ye’.” But as he said those words, he felt like she had somehow suffered not a physical death, but a spiritual one of sorts. Rory tried to clear his mind and tap into the old ways. He pushed back the Darkness as best he could and he tried to see her in his mind. He had an image of his Brielle staring blindly out a window, lifeless, not dead, but barely living. There was that painful squeezing around his heart again. It caused him to suck in his breath. It was causing physical pain to his heart.
Who had broken his Brielle’s spirit? As he formed the question, he knew the answer in his own heart. Campbells! Pain seared in his chest again as he realized his heart was one with hers. How could the Campbells have hurt her? How could his father have let it happen? Rory paced about, feeling his rage surface to full potent. He would speak to MacDougal in the morning. He had to make a plea for Brielle’s sake. Rory flopped onto the bed, thinking that sleep would be elusive, but he sank quickly into slumber, finally succumbing to the physical exhaustion of the day.
~The mists swirled around Rory. He could feel the unnatural coolness around his legs.
“Caitlyn.”
He felt her emerge before actually seeing her. For a moment he felt her pain of that horrible day all over again. He was lying on the cold ground, wounded. It was that day, so many years ago; only the arrow was in his heart, not hers. She stood before him, pale and beautiful.
“Am I dying, Caitlyn?”
“Ye’ will die, if yer’ heart dies, Ruiri. Please hurry.”
“Brielle?”
“Those who pierced me have her. She has no more hope.”
Caitlyn came to him, leaned in and kissed Rory’s cheek. She pulled the arrow from his heart and he expected to feel the pain and agony of it, but he only felt numbness and a cold dread. Caitlyn helped him to his feet and she handed him the arrow.
“Hurry, Ruiri. ye’ are not the only one the Darkness threatens. It threatens her now. She will die if you dunna' hurry. If she dies…so will ye'. Their evil runs deep.”
“But who…”
As Caitlyn faded, the wind whispered, “Campbell.”~
Rory woke with a start. He was drenched in a cold sweat. That was it then. Brielle’s brothers had her. Thinking about the horrible scar she bore that was all too close to her jugular, Rory remembered: They had almost killed her once. They would try again especially if they knew she had become his lover and mate. It would not matter if they had taken the ancient vows. They would surely see it as dishonor. Dear God, they would kill her simply for having kissed him! Morning was slow in coming. He had to make a bargain with his captor. Brielle’s life depended on it.
“Hold on my love, I am coming for ye’.”
Rory ached to hold her and to feel her in his arms. He needed her but his desires were quelled by the feeling of her danger and it was most important to get her to safety.
After an eternity of a night; at long last, morning finally broke. After hours of sleeplessness, Rory could hear his guard sliding the bar on his chamber door free. Rory leapt for the door and practically knocked the jailer out of the way. Turning back he called, “Where is the Laird?”
“Busy in his chambers but ye’ canna'. . . .”
“I can and I will.”
Rory strode down the corridor; his long legs quickening his stride to the master chambers of the keep. He was stopped by a man servant, but Rory pushed passed him. A personal guard stood before the heavy doors, barring his way.
“I need to speak with the laird,” Rory demanded.
“He is busy.”
The guard made the mistake of pushing a finger into Rory’s chest. Without thinking, Rory’s fist connected with the man’s jaw, sending him sprawling. Rory didn’t even give the guard a second thought. He pounded on the doors.
“Who is it?”
“Rory Ma
cCollum.”
“I am busy.”
Undaunted, Rory pounded harder on the door, his anger and frustration fueling his ire.
“So help me God, MacDougal, open this feckin’ door or I will break it from its hinges.”
To emphasize his point, Rory threw his weight against the door and it indeed groaned under the assault. Another slam and there was a cracking noise. Rory would smash it to splinters if given the chance.
Finally, a disgruntled Stephen MacDougal flung the doors wide. Rory had obviously disturbed him with some girl and that only fanned Rory’s anger. While he cooled his heels for the likes of the MacDougal clan, Brielle was in eminent danger and here was MacDougal dallying with some maid. His fury nearly exploded.
“Ye’ had better explain yerself.”
“I am done being yer’ puppet, MacDougal. While I inflict the discipline yer’ clansmen need to become fighters, ye’ are holed up with some doxie. T’is time to take responsibility for yer’ clan. I have my own responsibilities to my family. My woman is in trouble. I dunna’ want to say how I know it, but it is so. Ye’ can kill me if ye’ want, but I am leaving. The way I see it, ye’ need me alive to help ye’, so here is my plan. Let me go home. Let me take care of my business and I will come back to help ye’ with yer’ men. I will even promise some of my clan to aid ye'. Ye’ have my word and my word is my honor, but either way, I am leaving.”
“I could have ye’ imprisoned.”
“But what use would I be to ye’ then? The way I see it, in the best interest of yer’ clan t’would be to let me go.”
Stephen glanced back at the lass in his bed. He said, “Lassie, ye’ best go. I need to finish this matter.”
The girl pouted, but wrapped herself in a plaid and sauntered past Rory. She had the audacity to look at Rory with pure lust in her eyes, appraising him boldly, right in front of the MacDougal! Rory rolled his eyes. Doxies were all the same. He was amazed that he actually found that distasteful as of late. He had had his fair share over the years since Caitlyn had died. In fact, t’was more his style than bedding a lass who could fall in love with him, but since having Brielle love him, the mere thought of tupping a lass like that made him want to puke. The guard was back on his feet and was coming towards Rory. Stephen said, “That will be all. Ye' are relieved.”
Rory followed Stephen into his chambers and watched him shut the doors.
“Have a seat, Rory.”
Rory thought to stand, but then took a seat at a table when the MacDougal sat across from him.
“Ye’ need to tell me how ye’ know she is in danger. Ye’ve had no missives. No one even knows ye’ are here.”
“I just know.”
“Then if ye’ dunna’ convince me, why should I believe yer’ word? We shall have nothing further to discuss.”
Rory felt his body tense. He said, “It doesna’ matter if ye’ believe me or not. I am leaving and as I said, I may die trying, but ye’ would lose on all grounds, because once my clan learns of my fate, they will surely avenge me. No longer will ye’ be just a rival clan, but a sworn enemy and I promise ye’, they will not rest till yer’ clan is razed. A blood feud will ensue. And yer’ men are not strong enough yet to be victorious against MacCollum!”
Stephen pondered his words, and while they were insulting, Stephen knew Rory was telling the truth. His clan would be razed and his men were too undisciplined to muster to the cause.
“How do I know once ye’ are released that won’t happen anyway?”
Rory looked horrified. “By God, did ye’ plan to keep me prisoner forever?”
Stephen MacDougal looked abashed.
“In truth I dinna’ think that far ahead. I knew I needed one of ye' to help my ranks. Happening upon ye’ was my plan best laid. Yer’ work with my men has been quite remarkable.”
Rory sighed heavily. “I’ve got to get to my girl.” He nearly choked on his next statement, “The Campbell dogs have her.”
MacDougal grunted in disgust. “But she is a Campbell. How ye’ could fall in love with one of those is beyond me.”
It was common knowledge that Stephen’s clan hated the Campbells as much as the MacCollums did.
“She is an angel…kind of heart and beautiful. She is not like those demon spawns. I suspect she is a half sibling, although she has never said as much. It just does not seem possible she is fully blooded to them. They have abused her throughout her entire life. And now they have her again.”
“But ye’ dunna’ know that for sure.”
“I do! Look, many clans dunna’ follow the Old Ways any more, but I…still have ties to it and my bloodline still has the ancient gifts of Instinct.”
“Ye’ mean, ‘The Sight’?”
Rory nodded and swallowed hard. Many now felt that those pagan ways were devil born. Some even thought it was the markings of insanity.
“It’s more than the Sight. It is a tie to the ancient world both present and past. Some of those who have gone before, bring us messages and warnings…portents of danger.”
“Are ye’ tellin’ me ye’ see ghosties, Rory MacCollum?”
Rory’s eyes lowered. Even speaking it, it sounded insane, but what else could he say but the truth. His sighed heavily and said, “Just one, actually. T’is my fault, really. I never let her go and now she is earthbound. The Campbells killed her on my way to our wedding.”
“Aye, I remember that. T’was a long time ago. Many seasons have passed since that time.”
“Aye t’was a long time ago…but it confirmed my fears last eve. I mean, I have been feeling Brielle’s harm since my…arrest.”
Stephen MacDougal stood up and poured them both a drink of mulled mead. Rory thought that the Laird looked strangely pale of a sudden.
“I dunna’ like trifling with the Spirit world.”
“Aye and my neglect has kept that doorway opened. So ye’ see, I must save my Brielle. Mayhap once she is safe, that doorway can be closed.”
Stephen MacDougal looked very uneasy. He said, “Is she here…now?”
So, the MacDougal was afraid of ghosts.
If Rory was not so distraught, he would have laughed. He thought about saying, Aye she is standing right next to ye’, but he had noticed that Stephen had gone even paler still. It would not help his cause to humiliate the MacDougal. Rory found it slightly amusing that a trained warrior could be brave in battle but the mere mention of the “Ancient Ones” could send one to hide, quaking beneath the covers.
“Nay, she mostly comes to me when I am sleeping. I have only seen her once or twice while awake and those times were when I was consumed with darkness or grief.”
Stephen took a deep gulp of the mead, letting the liquid warm him. He remembered the day of Rory’s capture and how he had dropped his sword while looking as if he had indeed seen a ghost. Now Stephen MacDougal knew Rory had. He pondered Rory’s words and finally he said, “Alright. We shall leave in three days hence for Campbell keep.”
Rory’s eyes snapped to the MacDougal.
“We?”
Taking another gulp of the honeyed brew, Stephen said, “Roderick Campbell killed my brother, Charles. I want to see him brought to his knees as much as ye’ do. I know ye’, Rory MacCollum. Ye’ may have been named the Wolf of the Highlands, but ye’ are not a man of loose wits. Strong fighter, yes, but addled, no. Fer ye' to take the ancient binding rite assures me ye’ have not acted rashly. Am I right in assuming that ye’ never spoke those vows with Caitlyn McLeod?”
Rory nodded, feeling a little guilty that he had not bound himself to Caitlyn, as she still was bound to him to protect him. But he had bound himself to Brielle. MacDougal was right. He had not done that lightly.
“T’is time we stop warring with each other. With Robert’s decree, highland clans must unify. MacDougal will no longer raid MacCollum and in return, we will form an alliance of sorts.”
Rory stared at Stephen as if he gone daft. “Are ye’ serious?”
“Deadl
y so.”
“Ye’ won’t raid our livestock if I agree to this?”
“Nay. No more raids. However, if we express a need perhaps yer’ clan can aid us and likewise aid to MacCollum in return.”
Rory shook his head and said, “Ye’ should be having this talk with my Da. I am not even next in line as Laird of the clan.”
“Aye, t’is true, but ye’ are closer to my age and we have a vested interest in bringing down Roderick Campbell. I think yer’ da is a reasonable man. I think an alliance between our clans would be beneficial to all our people. Will ye’ shake on it, Rory?”
With a single nod of the head, Rory agreed to the alliance.
“Will ye’ send word to my kin and let them know we march on Campbell? This will serve two-fold, to let my family know I am safe and to hold ye’ to yer’ word.”
Stephen cracked a smile, “What, ye’ dunna’ trust me? Haven’t I been a most gracious host?”
With the first hint of a smile in weeks, Rory answered, “As gracious as a slave driver can be.”
Chapter Thirty
Rory sat his destrier, his back rigid, as his posture marked him as a leader of men and had taken the ranks of just such a leader of the MacDougal forces. They made their way toward Castle Campbell. Rory used the discipline of his concentration needed to lead the men in order to overshadow his constant thoughts about Brielle.
As they traveled down the Highland Road, they had not ridden very far when they were met with Rory’s brothers and father. The MacCollum faction halted. Caleb called out, “Thank God, ye’ are safe. I was coming to find ye’, son, only what the hell are ye’ doing with these…MacDougal gentlemen?”
“We have come to an understanding. They are going to help me with Brielle and the Campbells.”
Caleb met his son’s eyes. He saw the Darkness within him once again. It was hard to miss sometimes. He could see his son was carefully controlling it as he was wont to do. Caleb asked, “How did ye’ know, my son?”
Rory shrugged and said, “They have her don’t they?”