“Get your hands off me, you dirty oaf!”
“Ooh, and feisty too, just the way I’s like me women,” the guard guffawed, snatching Sabina’s arm and drawing her close. “Not much tae look at but she will do, don’t ye think?”
Sabina gagged at the smell of the man’s breath as he tried to make contact with her lips. Her scream rent the air and echoed throughout the trees as the others chortled at her helplessness. They smacked their lips and pulled at her arm, knowing what danger she had put herself in. From the taunts they hurled in her direction, ’twas clear it had been some time since any of them had had the comforts of a woman. Sabina swore that woman would not be her!
She began kicking and screaming at the top of her lungs ’til she at last made contact with the man holding her. From his grunt of pain, he was none too pleased and he raised his fist in her direction. She cringed, waiting for the blow to strike. Thankfully, luck was on her side for once. Raising her head, she scanned the forest and her gaze gratefully came to rest on the welcoming figure of the one man she needed the most as he came to her rescue.
“Hold!” Sir Hugh yelled. His scathing look halted the men in their tracks. “Return to your posts.”
The men scampered away to do his bidding. The man holding Sabina gave her one last leer, and she shivered in fear.
Hugh came to Sabina and wrapped his cloak around her trembling frame. Normally he would not care that she was cold or frightened, but he had heard rumors there might be a secret entrance to Berwyck Castle of which only family members were aware. The loose mutterings from that foolish boy Patrick just may have given him the advantage he was in need of.
He smiled as if he was glad to see her, and from her eager response, he gathered he would receive his answer in no time. The serf at Berwyck had been worth the coinage for he knew the boy he entrusted had faithfully informed Sabina of his location.
“Come, my sweet . . . let us away to the fire to warm you. You may also use my tent to rest your weary self. You have traveled far to see me, have you not?” Hugh purred in her ear.
Sabina smiled at him and snuggled into his arms as he led her away whilst she murmured how she knew Hugh would keep her safe.
They did not stroll far and he watched her face transform by what stood afore her. He watched in amusement as her mouth hung silently open whilst she viewed at least one hundred men, if not more, camped in the field where fires blazed in numerous locations. Tree’s had been cut to accommodate the large army gathered here and pennants fluttered in the early evening air belonging to the MacNaghten clan.
“I have been busy as you can see, my pet,” Hugh pronounced proudly with his arm stretched wide to show her his army. “They come to fight beside me whilst I claim Berwyck as my own, as it should have been from the start.”
“But what plans do you have for me, Sir Hugh?” Sabina questioned, with a bit of apprehension ringing in her whispered words.
“Did you not wish to be lady of the castle?”
“Yes, of course but . . . ”
“No worries, Sabina. You shall get your just rewards, and all shall be as it should,” he said, nibbling at her neck.
Hugh led her to his tent to the jeering sounds of his men egging him on. Sabina did not care for the crude hecklings being thrown their way. She began to voice her displeasure, but he only silenced her with a kiss as they entered his tent. He began running his hands down the length of her body ’til he felt Sabina melt against him in delight from his touch.
Hugh began to mutter meaningless words of love whilst he quickly divested her of her garments. She truly was such a simpleton to believe the babbling he said to her. She wrapped her arms around him, and he began to encourage her to tell him of the entrance. As she moaned in rapture at what he was doing to her body, she at last relented and told him that which he asked. He laughed in triumph at how easily he had received his answer. None too gently, he finished the dreadful deed he had taken on himself and pulled out of her. His release was most timely for he was not sure he could have stood much more of listening to her spout her love of him.
He adjusted his hose and fastened his sword against his side, since he had not deemed her worthy to fully undress. He took her clothes and bundled the linen in a ball. Striding to the tent’s entrance, he spoke softly to someone outside and returned to the task of putting on his remaining garb.
He watched as Sabina leaned up on her elbow from the makeshift bed, frowning in puzzlement when he took her clothing in his arms as if to return outside to his men.
“Come back and lie with me, Hugh,” she whispered with a flirtatious grin.
Hugh ignored the invitation and went to a low table to look over the parchments that had been laid there for his perusal. His eyes narrowed. As far as he knew, the map of Berwyck Castle was most accurate, and he should find that which he sought from the information Sabina had given him. He patiently scanned the drawing, as his finger skimmed a line along the sheet. There! There is the entrance he would need to gain access whilst his troops attacked the front gate. He was most pleased.
“Sir Hugh?” Sabina cooed prettily, patting the coverlet next to her. “Surely you could delay just a bit longer, my Lord . . . ”
He gave her a cold look and watched her flinch as if slapped. “I go to war you silly chit, and have no further need of you.” His voice practically dripped with arrogance. He grabbed the pile of her garments and made to leave. Tonight he would have Amiria beneath him, calling out his name with passion, and he would be well rid of Sabina and her clinging ways. He had waited long enough to claim the true prize of his desire.
“Where go you with my clothes, Hugh?” Sabina demanded, rising up from the bed, pulling at the blankets to cover her breasts.
He tossed her a laugh filled with pure malice and with a sneer watched her face fall in worry. “You’ll have no need of your clothing, my dear,” he snorted.
Going to the entrance of the tent, he opened the flap and admitted the man from the forest. The man licked his lips, viewing Sabina’s body ready for the taking, as Hugh watched Sabina’s face quickly transform from seduction to complete horror.
“I believe I deprived you earlier of some sport, my friend, so enjoy the spoils of war,” Hugh said with a lecherous grin. “See you that she does not leave this tent to alert those at Berwyck. I am sure you can think of some way to see she is kept entertained.”
He laughed, and the man joined in his mirth and began divesting himself of his weapons. Hugh left the tent without another thought of Sabina. Hearing the sounds coming from the tent, he smiled in satisfaction that she would indeed be kept busy for some time. He heard her scream out his name ’til the sound was muffled but he cared not. Instead, he rallied his men. The time had come to lay siege to the castle.
He mounted his horse, gathering the reins in his hands, and surveyed his army as it began to move in the direction of Berwyck with a smile, reaching his eyes. ’Twas time he claimed Berwyck and his kingdom for his own.
Thirty-five
Amiria lowered her sword and held up her hand afore she commenced in her lesson with Nevin once more. She thought she had been mistaken in what she had hoped would not be heard any time in her near future. But no . . . there ’twas again . . . the ever persistent sound of the tower bell ringing out in warning to secure the outer gates and drawbridge. The sound of crossing blades quickly diminished as knights rapidly sheathed their swords and ran to their designated posts. The garrison was well trained and knew their duty, unlike Amiria, who stood there silently in shock ’til her feet at last took flight, and she, too, made for the battlement walls.
She made fast work of the tower stairs mostly because she was unhampered by her armor that would have under normal circumstances slowed her ascent. Just this morn, Riorden had presented her with a leather jerkin for her to don, stating ’twas Lord Dristan’s wish she learn to train whilst lightly dressed to improve her form. She had to admit, there were certain advantages, along with a great sens
e of freedom, to training without the additional heavy weight of several pounds of metal upon one’s back.
Opening the tower door, she strode purposefully to the west battlement wall and made her way up another flight of stairs leading up onto the parapet. With no hesitation to the width of the narrow walkway, she made her way to Dristan’s captain, who pondered the horizon with a heavy frown set firmly on his brow.
“What think you, Riorden? Are they friend or foe?” Amiria asked, dreading his answer.
“I hardly think they are friends, Lady Amiria.” His reply was harsh, causing his dark brows to further deepen in thought.
She began to see the noticeable sign of dust rising in the distance. Riorden was right! This was no ordinary party and, at the rate they were moving, they could be at Berwyck’s walls by late afternoon, if not sooner.
“’Twas good planning on the part of your ancestor’s in having the foresight to build on such a high cliff,” Riorden praised. “We would not have noticed their advancement this early without such a strategic advantage.”
“My sire had always thought so, as well.”
“The villager’s will know what to do and come to the keep for protection?”
“Aye.” She gave her hushed reply whilst a feeling of déjà vu came over her. ’Twas not all that long ago she stood in this exact spot, contemplating with her sire and brother whilst their attention scanned the distant horizon and the approach of an oncoming army. She did not relish the thought of more of her kinsmen’s blood being shed. Her people had suffered enough this past year.
As she continued to watch the scene afore her unwavering gaze, she began to notice the first signs of villagers coming to the castle for protection. They carried in their hands what they could of their meager possessions. If another foe had come to claim the lands, all knew that any remaining crops would be burnt and the village ransacked of anything of worth. Thank goodness most of the crops had already been harvested. As if she had willed it, a light snow began to fall and Amiria knew she would once again need to raise up her courage to help with the defense of her home.
“I must go,” she began, but her movements were halted by the steel grip of Dristan’s captain.
“And just where is it you think you must go, my lady?” Riorden questioned with a stern look of disapproval upon his face. It appeared as if his features were made of chiseled stone with a look she had become used to only in another.
Amiria looked him firmly in the eye. “Why, to don my armor of course. Where else would I be needed at a time like this?”
“Do you honestly believe Lord Dristan would allow you to carry a sword into battle whilst you are on my watch?” he said with a ferocious roar.
She lifted her head defiantly. “Just try to stop me.”
“Do not test my patience, my lady. You are in my care and will do as I bid you.”
“I listen to no one’s counsel but my own. My people need me just as they did afore,” she replied tensely with a saucy toss of her head.
“Your clan may need you, but ’tis not to sacrifice your life on their account!” Riorden countered in aggravation, raking his free hand through his hair and staring down on her. “God’s wounds . . . how does Dristan deal with such a defiant woman?”
Amiria continued struggling to free her arm from Riorden’s grip but ’twas impossible. No amount of prying on her part was working. “I did my duty with the last siege, Riorden, and I must do so again!”
“And look at what the cost was to your clan from the last battle, Lady Amiria,” Riorden bellowed. “I understand what drives your need, but I cannot allow you to put a sword to use. Dristan would see me drawn and quartered with my entrails scattered to the four corners of this earth, if I allow you to follow this course.”
“Let go of me!” she cried out angrily. “You canna tell me what to do and soon you will be too busy to worry about my whereabouts.” She stood there as defiant as she could be whilst raising her fist at Riorden, almost daring him to gainsay her authority. From the look he gave her, she knew she had pushed him much too far. She eyed him cautiously, not knowing what the man had in store for her. Whatever it may be, ’twas surely not what Amiria had in mind.
Riorden gave up trying to reason with Amiria for she was just as stubborn as her husband. He took her by both arms and gave her a none too gentle shake in order for her to come to terms with his words. “You will go directly to our lord’s chamber, bolt the door, and remain there ’til I say otherwise,” he sternly ordered. “I will see your siblings are sent to you so I know you are all safe in one place.”
“Nay! You canna force me stay in my chamber, Riorden. I can help,” she shouted.
“If you will not go willingly, then you leave me no choice, my lady,” he said in annoyance and with the promise of his words, he lifted her up by the waist, threw her over his shoulder, and carried her off the parapet like a sack of grain. Amiria squirmed and kicked but he held firm as she raged at him that he could not treat her like some child. It only made his resolve stronger as he tightened his hold on his lady.
As Riorden made his way down the tower stairs to the floor where Dristan’s chamber was located, he halted a knight on his way above and bellowed for him to follow. Flinging the portal wide, he dropped his angry charge upon the bed and quickly stepped back afore she could draw her sword upon him. Her eyes blazed with fury more than likely that he would dare to treat her thusly, but he would brook no disobedience to her wishes, no matter her desire to aid.
Turning from her, Riorden made his way to the door, his armor clanking as he went. “Bar anyone from leaving this room once her siblings have joined her,” he commanded, “and no other than myself enters or leaves ’til I say otherwise!”
The knight nodded his understanding and Riorden turned once more to Amiria, giving her a short bow. “I shall return when this skirmish is over, my lady.”
“Rior−!”
Slamming the door and ignoring her when she called his name, Riorden made quick work of rounding up Lynet and Patrick, sending them to Amiria’s room. ’Twas in his search for Sabina that he came to the fast realization he had failed Dristan for her missing horse was a clear indication of his lack in judging the girl. He will have my head on a pike when he learns I have erred, he thought.
Knowing he was unable to waste any further valuable time looking for the wayward wench, who should have known better than to leave without her guard, he hastened to secure the castle. ’Twas fast becoming nigh to overflowing, as the villagers continued to flock to safety through its gates.
Kenna suddenly halted her steps and held on to Geoffrey’s arm. Aye, there ’twas again; that small tremor coursing through her body. ’Twas a sure sign she was about to have yet another vision. She never could get used to this feeling no matter how many years had passed by.
“Kenna?” Geoffrey asked quietly in concern. She began to sway and she felt him holding her close to his side.
Scenes of horror played afore Kenna’s mind, as though the images had in truth already occurred and were but memories. Swords clashed; arrows flew; knights fell; the occupants of Berwyck screamed in terror as fires alit in the inner and outer baileys; a massive battering ram was in the ready to storm the massive barbican gate; men attempted to scale the outer walls, as those from above poured boiling water down upon their heads. Yet still the enemy forged on in order to gain access to the keep.
Two men stood apart from the battle being waged against the castle’s wall. They were as different as night was to day, at least in their appearance, though their objective was the same . . . to win the battle and claim the land.
One dressed in full armor and that of a knight, although he had no honor within him. He lifted his visor and the black eyes of Sir Hugh were revealed. The other man was dressed as a Highlander in his clan’s colors. The fabric fluttered in the winter wind as did his unkempt brown hair. He, too, lacked any sense of chivalry and his only thought was to dispose of the man next to him and t
ake Berwyck for his very own.
’Twas the final scene of Hugh slipping the long slim blade of a dirk into the back of the unsuspecting Highlander and making his way up through the tunnel with a number of men that finally brought Kenna out of her vision. Her eyes flew open as she looked around hopelessly disoriented by her surroundings.
“Easy my love . . . I’ve got you,” Geoffrey whispered against her hair as he held her. “All is well Kenna.”
“Nay Geoffrey. ’Tis anything but well,” she gasped. “There is trouble afoot!”
“What is amiss?”
“’Tis Berwyck.”
“What about Berwyck?” he asked, holding her from him so he could peer into her face. She could see his worried expression for surely her features were ashen.
“’Tis under siege, Geoffrey,” she wheezed.
He laughed at her words. “Surely you jest Kenna. We left there less than a hand full of days ago. How can this be happening now?”
Kenna gazed around the glade where they had camped so Geoffrey could take his ease in the warm waters of the nearby pool. It had helped to lessen the pain that caused him to limp ’til his leg could completely heal.
“I just know ’tis so,” she said quietly, shaking her head. “Do you doubt my words?”
Geoffrey looked at her closely. “I would but have to see it for myself, my lady.”
Anger flashed briefly in her eyes, causing her temper to rise. “Doubt me then if you must, but we shall get nowhere near Berwyck lest you care for a lengthy stay in its dungeon. I hear ’tis not a place one cares to reside!” Sarcasm dripped from Kenna’s mouth for ’twas not the first time someone did not have faith in her visions. Her feelings hurt that he would question her words, she left the comfort of his side and made her way back to their camp where she busied herself with packing their gear. She cared not if he believed her or not.
If My Heart Could See You Page 24