Highland Legends 04 - Captive Highlander

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Highland Legends 04 - Captive Highlander Page 2

by Connie C. Scharon


  Ian walked in and she gasped. “Milord, I’m sorry for my rude behavior. I worried about my sister. I couldna stay in your room.”

  “It hurt,” he replied, folding his arms across his chest and standing in front of her.

  A small smile flickered across her face. She succeeded in giving him the proper mournful expression. “I’m sure it did, Milord. I’m very sorry. I only thought of my….”

  “I ken, your sister.” He studied her in the lamp light. “And now, are you ready to complete our business?” Ian stepped closer, reached over, ran his hands across her breasts, and down to the juncture of her thighs. “So no one has entered here?” he asked feeling her through her clothing. Katie let out a strangled cry when he ran his fingers back and forth.

  Shimmering tears traced down her cheeks as she met his heated gaze. “Nay, Milord, you would be the first,” she said.

  Ian pushed her thighs apart and pulled her to the edge of the wagon bed. “Would you like to know my name?”

  She seemed to come to attention at that remark. “Aye,” she whispered.

  “I am Ian Innes of Cairngorm Castle.” She already knew. He could tell by her look on her face.

  “A full-fledged laird then,” she said.

  Leaning forward, Ian took hold of her and pulled her to him. He kissed away her tears and found her lips with his. A noise behind him tore him from his task. Ian whirled around to see a hulking man wielding a mace.

  “Bastard, let go of her,” her protector growled. He swung the mace at Ian’s head.

  Ducking and spinning, Ian avoided the first blow. The man swung again and Ian drew his sword from the sheath.

  His assailant attacked and lunged at Ian.

  The clash of steel rang through the barn. Katie’s champion charged Ian knocking him to the ground with his sheer bulk. Rolling away from the red-bearded giant, Ian jumped to his feet. He sliced his attacker’s arm open. It did not slow the man down. Instead, red beard let out an angry cry and came at Ian again. Ian eluded the man’s next blow, but Ian’s sword tangled in the chain of the mace. The sword went flying into a nearby hay stack.

  Ian raised his arm as the mace flew towards his head. He managed to grab the chain and jerk the mace out of red beard’s hand. Giving it a toss, he put his shoulder down and lunged at his attacker’s midsection. The giant lost his balance and tumbled to the floor. Just as Ian moved in, Katie jumped on Ian’s back and wrapped one arm around his neck. Her other arm came across his face right over his eyes. He went to shake her off, heard the clatter as she fell to the ground, but regained his sight just in time to see red beard coming at him with the mace in hand. Her accomplice hit his mark, striking Ian squarely in the head. He felt himself pitch sideways. Everything in the barn spun into a fog. His legs buckled beneath him. Fighting to stay awake, Ian heard their muffled voices through the dark mist encompassing him.

  “Keith, I dinna want him dead,” Katie said. “’Twould spoil the peace. Get him in the wagon.”

  Ian felt Keith’s strong arms close around him and shove him into the wagon. “He isna dead, lass, though I would imagine his head isna feelin’ too good,” her companion said.

  “Tie him,” Katie ordered.

  Unable to fight them, Ian felt the rope tighten around his wrists and ankles. They blindfolded him, gagged him, and threw a blanket over him. Darkness overtook him and their voices faded into the void.

  “How could you let him touch you, lass? Your father would right out die if he knew what you’re about.”

  “Aye, so. A necessary evil.”

  “And you really think old Angus Innes will give in because you have taken his only living son and heir?”

  “I hope so, Keith, otherwise my plotting is all for naught. Let’s get him back to Duntaigh Castle and I’ll set my plan in motion.” Katie felt Keith watching her as she pulled the gaping barmaid’s dress closed and slipped on her cloak. “Why do you dally? We must get away before someone discovers us.”

  “Are you gonna tell Rannoch?”

  Katie pursed her lips. “For now, this must be just between us no one else,” she warned.

  Keith let out a shallow laugh. “I dinna trust him either. Where will you be hidin’ yer prisoner?”

  “I prepared a cell for him in the darkest black hole in the dungeon.”

  Chapter 3

  The gray stone walls of her home loomed above them. From below, it appeared to be an unassailable fortress. The castle clung to the top of the ridge overlooking Rannoch Moor and Loch Laiden. Yellow fingers of light streaked through the early morning mist. Katie had been gone for some time. Now she must get her captive secured and make an appearance before Rannoch grew suspicious.

  In the past, she avoided Rannoch for days just because she did not want to see him. She could imagine those gray eyes searching hers for some hint of treachery. This time there was more to it than she cared to tell. He never broke a sweat or showed any feeling. His air of absolute control frightened those about him and they easily yielded to his inquisitions. He always watched and didn’t miss anything. She could not or more precisely would not tell him about this.

  Katie and Keith brought the wagon to the entrance of a cave at the base of the mountain. They set about transferring Ian to a small cart so they could take him further.

  “Heavy bugger,” Keith commented when they finished.

  “Hurry,” Katie said as she walked through the entrance to the well-hidden cave. The passage wound around inside the mountain full of rocks and dangerous overhangs that dropped hundreds of feet. Near the top, a rocky ledge opened to a view of the valley. They reached the overlook. Katie walked to the edge and peered at the murky waters of Loch Laiden far below. Turning she looked straight up the massive walls which formed the exterior of Duntaigh Castle. A bank of cool mist surrounded the top spires.

  When she was young, she often wondered how they built it. Her father and Keith showed her the cave during a time of siege when they feared she might have to lead her young siblings from the castle to save them. Besides the cave and main road to the front gate on the other side of the mountain, there were no other entrances. The passage narrowed beyond the ledge. It led to a secret entrance into the little-used part of the dungeon where she planned to keep Ian.

  She turned to her companion. “Let’s be about our business.”

  “We could just chuck him off the side of the mountain and be done with it,” Keith suggested.

  “I havena come this far to quit,” she said. “’Twill all work out.”

  “I’m not so sure, lass.”

  “Either way, we’re in it now. I canna stop what I have put in motion.” Ian had not roused since he passed out from Keith’s strike. It worried Katie. She dealt a stinging blow to his family jewels and Keith capped him a little too hard. They moved Ian slowly up the trail in the small cart.

  When they reached the hidden doorway that would take them into the cell block, Katie pulled the lever that made the huge cantilevered stone pivot. Brian Blackburn discovered the cave on the far side of the mountain years ago and decided it would provide the perfect escape route in times of siege. No one save her father, Keith, and Katie knew of the cave. Except, of course, the stone masons her father brought in to create the cantilevered stone doorway that led to it. As far as Katie knew, they were long dead. Now they were deep in her father’s dungeon down a little-used passage full of cobwebs. She prayed it would be far enough from any well-traveled route to arouse suspicion.

  “Bring the cart in,” she said to Keith.

  He obliged and led the horse drawn cart into the passage beyond. “Lass, what will you tell Rannoch if he finds your prisoner?”

  “I dinna ken. This place hasna been used for years. Surely it is unlikely.” Katie struck the lever that made the huge stone door roll back into place. From this side, it was near impossible to tell such a doorway existed.

  In a short time, they reached the anteroom of the cell block where she planned to keep Ian. A singl
e passage from one of the other cell blocks led to this private dungeon, one which in the past held only the most valuable prisoners. Ian Innes was worthy of that designation. If the Innes Clan breached the castle, they could not recover their kin without help from someone within. The fact Rowan Rannoch had little interest in this part of the castle helped her cause. He would not learn of this place as long as she could keep her captive’s presence from him.

  Keith’s voice broke through her thoughts. “We’ll have to wake him to get him inside the cell, lass.”

  “Aye, so. A cold bath will wake him. There are several buckets in the cell. Fill them from the spring.”

  With a chuckle, Keith went off to do her bidding. He returned a few minutes later. Katie pulled back the blanket covering their captive. Keith doused him with the icy cold water.

  Ian woke with a start. He spluttered and tried to wipe his face, but his bindings made such movement impossible. A swath of cloth covered his eyes and his mouth. He could barely move or speak.

  “You live,” Katie said. Her voice came close in his ear. “I am freeing your legs. You must walk the rest of the way. Nod if you understand.”

  He nodded. The bindings on his legs fell away and someone gave him a shove off the cart. He tried to stand, but fell to the ground. His legs were numb. Another wave of wetness blew over him. He snorted and twisted trying to free himself. It was useless.

  “Still got some spirit,” her male companion said.

  “Aye,” she agreed. “Ian, I dinna want to hurt you. Calm down and Keith will help you to your feet.”

  Strong arms lifted him. Unsteady, he took a faltering step. Her companion’s arm wrapped around his waist and led him forward in the sightless void. They walked one painstaking step at a time then Ian got the sense they had entered some enclosed space. The dank, stale air filled his nostrils. A crackling torch popped and hissed nearby, so close he could feel the heat of the flame.

  Her companion dragged Ian into the cell. “Where do you want him, lass?”

  “Chain him to the wall.” Ian heard her sigh. “Leave him enough length of chain to sleep, eat, and relieve himself. I will see to his wounds.”

  Suddenly the cloth pushed down below his nose so that only his mouth bore the cover. Ian blinked in the flickering light. Then her heavenly face came out of the darkness. A gossamer fog surrounded her as if she were an angel. His captor, no matter how beautiful, was far from that. She stared at him and touched the side of his head.

  “Oh bugger, Keith. You really crowned him.”

  Her burly, red-haired companion examined Ian’s head. “That I did, lass.”

  “Get some more water to put in the cell,” Katie ordered.

  “Not until your prisoner is chained.”

  Her partner secured Ian’s ankles in leg irons, and then cut the bonds on his wrists. Ian heard the clink of the manacles locking into place. The chains were of a sufficient length to allow him movement about the small space.

  Ian’s gaze swept the room. He was in a cell bigger than most in his father’s dungeon. Beyond the entrance, a large anteroom served as an area where one guard could watch over the whole cell block. The other doors hung open indicating no prisoners shared this space. The cart they brought him in sat in the anteroom. Two dimly-lit passageways ran into the anteroom from opposite directions. They appeared to be the only ways in or out.

  He focused his attention on the room where he stood. A wood-frame bed with a blanket and straw-stuffed ticking sat in the center of the long wall. In one corner were a table and two small stools. A cup and trencher sat on the table. She must at least intend to feed him. On the opposite side, a ditch made a urinal of sorts. A torch and a candle lantern lit his prison.

  Keith gave Ian a shove toward the wall. He lost his balance and struck stone. Slowly he sank to the makeshift bed. The ticking felt soft beneath his sore body.

  “Careful, Keith,” his captor said sharply. “Ian Innes is no good to me dead.”

  “Katie Blackburn, I’ve know you since were a tiny lass. Dinna be bossin’ me around. If he dies, he just disappeared on his journey. ‘Tis that simple.”

  Blackburn, now it all came clear. The Blackburns captured him, yet another step in their foul behavior of late. In truth, Ian wondered what became of Brian Blackburn’s reason. The laird of Duntaigh Castle taunted the Innes Clan, who avenged the transgressions with strikes that left the Blackburns worse off than ever. Was Ian to become a tool to convince his father to give over the disputed lands?

  It made no sense. Blackburn’s own daughter and a single man sent to complete this task. If memory served him, Katie was Blackburn’s eldest daughter and named after her mother. She certainly had her mother’s coloring. The girl had pure white skin and red-gold hair the color of fire. There were four Blackburn children, three daughters, and a son. Ian had not seen any of them in years. Not since the friendly times when they were all children.

  Was this truly Katie’s plan? Her companion implied as much. Ian’s head throbbed too much to consider it much longer.

  “I’ll fetch the water and supplies.” Keith walked out of sight.

  His captor stood over him with her forehead wrinkled into a frown. She paced the cell shooting a glance at Ian every few steps. Eventually Keith came back carrying two buckets of water and with a sack slung over his shoulder. He set them on the table and stared at Katie.

  “If you dinna need me for anythin’ else, I’ll leave you to yer business. I need to cover our tracks, but I dinna like it, lass. You play a dangerous game. If Rannoch finds out, you may find yerself chained below.”

  Ian remembered the name. Rowan Rannoch and his few remaining clansmen swore allegiance to Laird Brian Blackburn some years back. They came to live at Duntaigh Castle shortly thereafter. What say would Rannoch have over Katie Blackburn? Ian listened to Keith’s departing footfalls. Katie moved closer and removed his gag. She leaned down to hand him a cup of water and wiped the blood off his face with a wet rag.

  Ian sat up and sipped the cool water. It soothed his parched throat while he studied her in the dim light of the lantern. She did not seem to notice her cloak hung askew and her too-loose gown gaped again to give him a nice view of her snow-white breasts. He moved his hand thinking to give her a stroke that would bring it to her attention. The chains rattled and she jumped out of reach.

  “Is it still night?” he asked.

  “’Tis the morning after your capture. We traveled through the night to bring you here.”

  “What do you plan to do with me, virgin Katie? Are you as innocent as you claimed? Did you tell any truth in the midst of this foul plot?”

  She stiffened. “You question my virtue. I am not a loose woman.”

  Ian burst out laughing and her face grew red and flushed. “Fair Katie, you are the deceiver. You came to me and offered so much, only to snatch it from me with not one, but two crushing blows. Why should I believe anything you told me?” He paused eyeing her boldly. “Does Keith find respite between your thighs so he will do your bidding?”

  She slapped him hard across the face, so hard it caused his head to roll. “Evil man,” she spat. “I dinna ken how I could have any sympathy for the likes of you. To think I worried over your health.”

  “First you wipe my head, and then you strike me.”

  “Your foul suggestions fired my temper. I dinna wish to harm you.” Collecting herself, Katie looked him over. “What wounds need tending?”

  “My head is throbbing, but the pain I would most like you to attend to is lower. My bruised balls could use your tender touch.” Her face turned scarlet and she struck him again. Ian could only imagine what it would be like to have that fire directed in passion instead of anger. This woman-child could easily drive him mad with desire. Right now, all he wanted was to feed her ire. “Ah, Katie, my tarse could use a massage as well.”

  “Hoary bastard! I am the eldest daughter of the laird of Duntaigh Castle, and I wilna suffer your abuse.”

&nb
sp; She leaned across him spitting her words into his face. This time she ventured too close. He grabbed her and pulled her down on top of him, holding tight. Her wriggling provided a stimulation she did not intend. Perchance he remained intact and able to function after her treacherous assault. His reaction to the press of her body would indicate so. “Mark my words, Katie. I will have you wild beneath me if it is the last thing I do. Your punishment for this deception,” he swore as he released her.

  She hopped up and stepped back shaken by his threat. “Never unless ‘tis rape, not something I would put past you or your wicked kin.”

  “How is it, virgin Katie, that you have such a low opinion of the Innes clan?”

  “Stop calling me that.”

  “Calling you virgin? That is what you purport to be.”

  “You make it sound dirty.”

  “Your guilt over what you offered that makes it seem dirty. To offer your innocence for money is a whore’s errand, yet I canna see you whoring. No one ever touched you the way I did.”

  “I suffered your abuse for the good of my people.”

  “You invited my abuse with your crude proposal.” He smiled at her. “Sad thing is you enjoyed it in a way you had not considered.”

  For this, she struck him again, but Ian barely felt the blow. “Stop this!” she choked.

  “I want you to know you have the most beautiful breasts I’ve ever seen, so soft and white, and so quick to react to my touch. All I wanted was to have a taste of your sweet flesh, but alas, you called a cruel halt before that could occur.” He raised his eyebrow and gave her the most lecherous leer he could muster. “A taste of you I would treasure to my grave,” he whispered. “I ken you liked it.”

  Katie quivered. She’d like to take Keith’s mace and beat him. She must control herself. In such a fit of temper, she might kill her helpless captive. He wanted her angry. It seemed he did not care if she struck him, but he spoke the truth. His touch lit a fire in her she had not known before. It was her punishment from God for this blasted plan of hers. Refusing to let him goad her into striking him again, she bit her lip in hopes the pain would help her find her balance. “If that is what you would like to believe,” she said.

 

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