“He never mentioned him?”
“That he had captured him? Nay. And ‘twas too newsworthy to ignore. The bastard would happily have shoved such meaty information in my face.”
He scratched his head, then glanced out the door. “Do you suppose mercenaries took him for other reasons?”
“What else could it be?”
“Jaden-Tog said he was…special. Magic is power, I guess.” Just uttering the word magic made his gut churn, and his chest dampen with perspiration.
“Bull, what ‘tis wrong? Yer face is as pale as the moon.” When Izzy walked closer, raising her hand to touch his cheek, he backed away.
“I’m fine.”
“I see,” she answered.
The hurt in her voice made his chest ache, but emotions had no place in this world of the ancient Highlands; a world he had no business living in. His mission was to help Izzy rescue her family member, then he would be free to search for a magical being who could send him back home. Once satisfied that her family was able to care for Izzy, he’d be free to live his life the way he saw fit.
Then why do I feel like dying?
“Ye think whoever is holding him has no idea we be related?”
“Right. The opportunity to make you do anything, in order to save your cousin, was then.”
“ Then, ‘tis a good thing he dinna’ find out.”
He nodded, glancing at the paper in her hand. “Let’s study the map.”
“Aye, Tulac Castle,” Izzy winked, “We shall find a way inside, and save Rae.”
CHAPTER 19
At the rear of Tulac Castle, Bull cut away the thick brambles hiding the old wooden door. He was surprised when Jaden-Tog led them to the door, wedged between the castle’s solid outer wall, and the kitchen garden. After the creature swore none of the Sinclair clan was aware of this entrance, he had disappeared. Izzy had left the map behind, in her cottage. They had an idea where to look for her cousin, once they made it inside.
“If Jaden-Tog lied, I’ll kill him.” Assuming he and Izzy didn’t die first.
“He dinna’ actually say that this is where my cousin was taken.”
Great. “Are you sure no one is watching this entrance?”
Izzy shrugged her shoulders.
Double great.
“It is verra’ overgrown. If they know of it, no one has used it in a long time.”
Izzy had found her cousin’s dirk beside his empty bed. Handing it to Bull, she waited in silence, as he cut the thorny branches and wilted ivy, until they could fit through the door, unscathed. After he shoved the crumbling door open, his warrior woman refused to follow him. Instead, she tried to slip by him.
“Wait. Take this.” Bull handed her Rae’s dirk, then gripped the hilt of the sword at his hip. He let her lead the attack. She’d been incarcerated in Tulac Castle recently, so she should be able to find her way to the cells. She had assured him that she understood what would happen, if anyone discovered them inside the castle. There was little he could do to protect them.
“Remember,” he whispered, “I am not a trained warrior.”
Izzy glanced his way, and whispered, “Ye shall be fine.”
He worried, while the faith in his ability to protect them, tugged at his soul. Her whispers reminded him of their situation. The tension thickened.
“Sorry about your roses.”
Her eyes widened. “My roses?”
“Your cattle were chomping on them. By the time I scared them away, they were a mess.”
She chuckled, soft and low.
“I ne’er noticed. My attention was on sneaking up on ye…and the dirt beneath the roses.”
“The dirt?”
“Aye. ‘Tis more than kegs of ale, farmland, and cattle that makes a person wealthy.”
He scratched his head. “You buried something valuable under the roses?”
She nodded, then winked.
“Remind me what the heck we’re doing here?” Why were they talking about buried treasure, when they could die at any moment?
“First, we shall crawl through the old door and keep low, so the guards on the wall above doona’ catch sight of us.”
He nodded.
He had familiarized himself with the plan, but hearing it a second time didn’t make it any more appealing. “Glad we left Balfour back at the farm. Will the brownie take good care of him?”
“Aye.”
He focused on the garden they had traversed. It was a mess of dried plants, and dying grass. Untended, dead, and desolate. Izzy had told him how The Sinclair’s wife recently died under suspicious circumstances.
Had Izzy shared the news with Gavin? When they had discovered the small sgian dubh in the meadow after Izzy’s disappearance, hadn’t Gavin and Niall speculated that the laird’s wife was probably dead?
Izzy said that finding her cousin was a priority. If Rae was in the castle, they would find him, release him, and then get the hell out of Dodge.
“Izzy? Do you know which way to go, once we get inside?”
“Maybe. When Jaden-Tog spirited me away from the meadow with his magic, I ended up in a cell, but I escaped from a bedchamber above. I ran down the stairs and out the main gate undetected. I recall the location of the kitchen, though.”
“Are you crying?” Bull whispered.
Izzy wiped a tear from her cheek. “An old woman, named Anice, was very nice to me. I doona’ think she likes it here. I wish we could help her, as well.”
“You just walked out?”
She chuckled. “Nay. Jaden-Tog disoriented the guards. I shall do my best to find the entrance to the dungeons from here.”
Bull cursed beneath his breath. Heading blindly into danger with another person's life on the line, was one reason why he wanted to go home to the future, where life was quiet. Where he went to work, and paid his bills on time.
“What kind of civilization throws good men in dungeons?” Bull whispered. Rae had to be a good man, because he agreed to watch over Izzy's property. Did he have a reason for doing so beyond helping a family member?
“Aye, ‘tis the truth.”
“Izzy, did you pay your cousin to live at your house, watch your animals, and tend your garden all these years?”
“What are ye implying? Do ye think he was doing it for monetary gain?”
“No, but there must be a reason to live on property he didn't own. If someone was trying to take it away, why didn't he just run?”
Izzy sighed, and leaned back against the ivy-covered wall.
Crouched inside the garden, below what he assumed, was the outer bailey walls, he lowered his voice and unsheathed his sword. Guards patrolled directly above them, while they relaxed and conversed, as if they were on a date. The smell of moldy leaves and dead grass was not strong enough to encroach fully on the beautiful fragrance that was Izzy.
“ ‘Tis a hard life in Scotland during this time, Bull. People help each other, especially their kin. Family means everything. ‘Tis so different from your world.”
“My world?” Bull growled low, keeping it quiet enough so no one would hear, except Izzy.
She gazed up at him and said, “Money, power, or athletic ability is held in high esteem in your time. In addition, you've never once talked about your family. Do you have a mother or a father? A brother? A sister? Does anyone miss you?”
Bull drew his sword closer to his body, retreating into the dark place. He didn't want the sun to shine on the blade and catch the eye of a guard, but it was more than that. Even though he wished he had a gun, which was easier to hold, he’d carry this blasted thing and use it, if it meant saving Izzy’s life.
“Never mind my family, I wanted to make sure he hadn’t run off.”
“Nay, he would never leave my animals. The cows and chickens are verra’ worried.”
“Right. Rae talks to them.”
“Ye have forgot about magic, Bull. Magic is all around us, and will help us when needed.”
“I n
eed to go home,” he muttered.
***
Izzy refused to allow the hurt to sink her any deeper into the black mood that Bull created. His silence, in regards to his family, and his refusal to share anything more about his life, made her suspect Bull would not stay, once they settled the issue concerning Rae.
Did she care?
Until she found her cousin, she had no notion of whether she should stay, or go back and help Dorcas Swann at her tent. But, Dorcas told her she planned to close her business. If true, what employment could she find in Bull’s world? She had toyed with the idea of teaching, but without credentials or schooling, she would need magical help.
“We will talk about sending ye home once we find my cousin. If he is no’ in a cell, he is dead.”
“Don't say that,” he whispered, then drew close. When his free hand rubbed her back, she wanted to bolt.
“Why? ‘Tis the truth.”
Acting skittish with a man who melted her insides when they made love, was nonsensical, but she did not want to grow too attached. When he left, her heart might wither and die, if she cared too much. She understood the concern etched on his face. Shuttered eyes, and one raised brow, told quite the tale. He did not want to stay.
“We didn't find any sign of a struggle at the cottage. His weapon was still by his bed. If he had walked away, he would've taken his dirk. If they captured him in the middle of the day, he would have fought back. Did we find any blood?”
“Nay. Let us hope they took him as he slept. Rae has been missing for some time, according to Jaden-Tog,” Izzy said.
“You sure we can trust that guy?”
“I doona’ know, but he has the power to send ye home. Ye should stay on his good side.”
“His good side? Really? Like I haven’t thought of that? He wants to help you. That has nothing to do with me. Besides, I’m thinking about Jenny.”
Jenny again? Did Bull really like her? Jenny shared how she and Bull had met, earlier in Jake's apartment. Jenny was tall, slender, and worldly. Izzy was out of her element in that other world, the same way Bull was, here. He didn't like it here, and he wanted to go home. Deep down, she understood.
“I, too, hope Jenny is safe. If she is with Gavin, then all is well. I hope they meet up with us at the cottage. ‘Tis the most logical place.”
“Why there?”
“Gavin covets my land, remember? Also, we left him clues, such as the crude map of his sire’s castle. He'll know we traveled here.”
“Will he help us find and rescue Rae, or will he march through the castle’s front gate?”
“And announce our presence? Ye must have faith.”
Bull grew quiet. Had he ignored her words?
“Go,” he whispered, as he glanced up at the guards.
Leading the way, she slid silently along the wall, until she reached the kitchen door. If they found it bolted, their rescue mission was over.
Listening at the keyhole, the room beyond the door was quiet, but early afternoon preparations for the evening meal would soon start. The cook might be in the pantry, checking on their stores. If Anice caught them inside the castle, would she call the guards?
“Will it open?” Bull whispered at her shoulder.
“Patience. Let me try.” The door opened with a horrific groan, but the lack of footsteps pounding toward them, was bliss. The smell of stew and roasting venison filled the air. Her stomach rumbled.
“You’re always hungry. Whoever marries you, had better have a larger farm than yours.”
Bristling at his tone, she barely resisted when he barreled past her, and crossed the kitchen. She had barely seen this part of the castle. She was certain she could retrace her trip from her cell to the laird’s bedchamber, and put a knife between his ribs.
I doubt my companion would stand by, and allow me to kill the bastard.
Bull was a decent, law-abiding man, in his own time.
However, we are no’ in his time.
“The front doors are to the left, and the great room is at the end of this hallway.” The long, narrow hall, outside the kitchen, had numerous doors on each side. Near the end, she pointed to a set of stairs that led to the chambers above.
“ ‘Tis the stairs I ran down, when I escaped The Sinclair.” She retraced her steps, and paused beside a wide, oak door. Two rusty metal brackets held a thick, wooden beam. It barricaded the door from anyone attempting to leave the dungeon.
He hesitated. “Could this be the door to the dungeon?”
“Aye, though I saw it from the other side, when forced toward his bedchamber.”
“Makes sense. Why else would they lock it? We need a way to block it so they can’t lock us in.” Bull glanced back down the hall, but didn't find anything that would do the trick.
“Hide the beam.”
“You are too smart for your own good, sweetheart.” Smiling, he raised the beam and hefted it back through the kitchen, and slid it under the cook’s worktable. Returning to her side, he opened the door. “They can still block it with a sword, but let’s get in and get out, before anyone knows we’re here.”
She nodded. Listening for any voices from below, they descended the stairs. If they met any armed guards, the ensuing battle could get bloody.
“Let's get this over with, shall we?” Bull took the lead, and she followed. He padded down the steps, with his sword raised. He would protect her with his life, which worried her to no end.
Torches lined the curved walls along the stairway. The stones were damp with moisture, and the air grew cooler, as they descended. Odd noises drifted up, echoing along the uneven walls of cut stone, but nothing seemed to concern Bull. His shoulders relaxed, yet he kept his sword up. His other hand slid along the wall, as if feeling his way through a darkened lair. She sensed he was steadying himself for an attack. Izzy backed away several paces.
“Smell that?” Bull whispered.
The acrid odor of brimstone wafted up the stairs, and a slight breeze swirled gray with smoke. The torches above their heads flickered. A curl escaped, and tickled her cheek. When she froze in place. Bull stepped closer to her, and pushed the errant strand behind her ear. Izzy shivered, but refused to meet his gaze.
“What’s burning? This place is all dirt and stone,” Bull asked.
“Bedding, straw, clothing, but it smells of magic. Powerful magic.”
“The brownie? Or, someone worse?”
Izzy exhaled. Bull’s cold, damp fingers had released her errant hair too quickly. Even though she had shivered at his touch, she missed the gentle caress against her cheek.
Now was not the time to dwell on desire. It burned in her belly, and she would use it to give her strength.
When Bull turned back toward the smoke, it climbed up to meet them. She forced her attention on the cells below. Padding down the last few steps, wisps of smoke stung her eyes. With no sign of guards, they padded toward the prisoner cells. Izzy mentally batted away memories of her recent incarceration, and resumed her mission. Smoke poured out of a cell, but it twirled and circled the ceiling like ribbons of pearly-gray silk.
***
Bull’s teeth clenched. This wasn’t good. If a creature had conjured magic, he wanted out of there, and quick. Unfortunately, Izzy had a one-track mind, and marched into Hell to rescue her cousin.
What’s worse, something is burning.
Someone had started a fire. If any prisoners, such as Izzy's cousin, were in the cells down here, they would die of smoke inhalation unless they saved them.
“Bull, we must help, before he chokes to death.”
“I got it! Stay back.” he said. If she stayed behind him where it was safe, he could do this. He would force his feet to enter the smoke, and not succumb to the terror.
Izzy didn’t listen. She shot past him, heading for the cell filled with smoke. Bull froze in fear, at the bottom step, and his sword dropped from his hand, the clang echoing through the dungeon like the peal of a dinner bell.
&n
bsp; “Why don’t I just tell them to come and get us.” Growling, and breathing hard, he couldn’t seem to control his limbs. Fear threatened to make him turn tail and run.
Forcing his feet to stumble forward, he grabbed the open cell door. Izzy had disappeared into the belly of the swirling, acrid smoke. The burn scars across his back tingled. His accident, in a barn fire, was still fresh in his mind.
“Bull! I need help!” Izzy cried.
Grow up. You can't let her down now. Save her cousin, escape this horrid place, and make plans to return to your own time. Easy as pie.
When he didn’t hear the ominous crackle of flames, he relaxed. When she screamed, he ran into the cell. “Izzy are your hurt?”
“Help me!”
CHAPTER 20
Before more than a breath had escaped his lungs, Bull was in the cell. He choked on smoke, while he searched blindly for Izzy. When his fist connected with a handful of long hair, he pulled.
“I’ve got you!” Bull said. That she didn’t scream, worried him. His breathing grew labored. Lowering his hand, he circled her waist. Coughing and choking, he pulled her into his chest. He couldn't get enough air inside the smoke-filled cell, so he dragged her into the hall. Outside the cell, where the air wasn’t a solid wall of thick, stinking smoke, he sucked in a breath.
“Save him,” she said, close to his ear.
“Save who?”
“My cousin. I believe ‘tis him, on the floor.” Izzy coughed again.
Groping his way back into the cell, he stayed away from the glowing center of the twisting plume of smoke. The farther he breeched the cell, the more heat singed his fingertips, but it didn’t act or sound like a normal fire. He tamped down the fear. No flames leaped up to bite him, nor was the roof about to crash down on his head. When he stumbled over a body lying on the ground, he grabbed a fistful of cloth, and retreated toward the open cell door.
Two arms appeared out of the mist and tugged on his forearm, aiding him as he moved toward freedom. He pulled the body behind him, as he struggled for breath. Where the smoke thinned by the door, Izzy’s face appeared.
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