“Now, mistress, ye will nay scream or cry for aid, aye?” Lachann said.
The hard chill of his voice made Adeline shiver. Anne’s eyes were so wide they had to sting as she stared at the man who held her captive. Fear and guilt were so strong in the woman that Adeline could almost smell them. Finally, Anne nodded.
“Be warned, woman. I can stop ye from screaming ere ye finish taking the breath needed to do so,” Lachann warned as he slowly released Anne.
“Who are ye?” Anne asked as she stumbled back a few steps and fell into a chair.
“I think ye have a good idea. I look like your lover, aye? Like the mon who sired the wee lad ye tried to kill.”
“I have ne’er tried to kill a wee lad!”
“Ye are a poor liar. Ye set your son, a wee bairn, out in the wood kenning weel that he couldnae survive on his own. And, just to make certain the wild beasts made a meal of the boy, ye cut him, filling the air with the tempting scent of blood. Ye may nay have killed the boy with your own hand but leaving him like that ’tis the same, as I see it. What I need to ken now is who sired the boy. Give me a name and I will leave ye be.”
Anne trembled as she looked from Lachann to Adeline and back again. Then, slowly, a sly look entered her eyes and Adeline nearly cursed. It did not surprise her to see that the woman thought she could gain from this confrontation, could sell the truth Lachann sought. One look at Lachann’s face told Adeline that he, too, now saw the crafty thoughts crowding Anne’s mind. She had to wonder just how witless Anne was. Could the woman not see that her life was hanging by a very thin thread?
Lachann leaned toward the woman, letting Anne see the glint of the beast in his eyes. “Best ye think verra carefully about trying to play some game with me, woman. Dinnae think I will be gentle or merciful just because ye are a woman. Ye tried to kill a child of my clan and we dinnae take kindly to that. Nay, nor do we act mercifully to one who sent one of our own to his death.”
Anne went so white Adeline feared she was about to swoon. A quick glance at Lachann’s face told Adeline why the woman was so terrified. Lachann’s beautiful golden eyes had turned hard and feral and he was showing his teeth. Adeline suspected that if she were presented with that face attached to such a big, strong man, one who could snap her neck in the wink of an eye, she might wish to swoon as well. It puzzled her a little that she was not the least bit afraid even now.
“Arailt,” Anne whispered.
For a moment Adeline thought that Lachann was going to draw his sword and strike the woman’s head from her shoulders. Anne must have thought so too, for she tried to press herself into a very small figure in her chair and whimpered. Deciding that although Anne certainly deserved harsh punishment for her crimes and the blood on her hands, it was not wise for Lachann to deliver it, Adeline placed her hand on his arm. It took long enough that she began to grow nervous, but then she felt the hard tension in his arm ease a little.
“How did he die?” Lachann asked, his voice rough with the fury he was struggling to hold back.
“The men hunted him down the last time he left,” Anne replied, a little of her foolish bravado returning as she realized she was not about to be killed.
“Aye, as I thought. And ye told them he was here and where he was headed, didnae ye? Ye made certain your mon wouldnae return to trouble ye again.”
Anger twisted Anne’s face into something far from pretty. “He wasnae a mon! He was a demon and ’tis clear that the land is swarming with them. Ye are of his ilk and ye deserve the same fate. God demands it.”
“Jesu, dinnae try to cover your sins with the shield of righteousness, bitch. Ye were willing to take the mon to your bed, to do so for near to two years. Ye tired of him or found a richer purse to dip your fingers in.”
“Nay, I—”
“Dinnae twist your tongue with more lies. After being his lover for so long ye must have kenned his secrets and ye used them against him. Ye sent him to his death, willingly. Aye, and then ye tried to send his son after him.” He spat at her feet. “Tell me how he died.”
“I dinnae ken. The men hunted him down somewhere in the wood.”
“So how do ye ken he was killed?” Lachann’s stomach turned when he saw how pale she went. “They brought proof of their murder back so that ye could be sure. What? His head?” He could tell by the look on her face that he had guessed right and ached to put his hands around her white throat and choke her until she ceased to breathe.
Adeline shook her head. “Ye could share a mon’s bed, bear his child, and then see him brutally murdered? Why didnae ye just send him and the child away? Ye have ne’er hesitated to simply cast off one mon for another before.”
“Dinnae look down your nose at me, witch,” snapped Anne. “I shouldnae be surprised that ye have taken up with one of the demons. Like clings to like, aye? Weel, best ye run, run faster than your mother could.”
Adeline felt her nails dig into her palms as she clenched her fists, fighting the urge to leap onto Anne and beat her senseless. All the anger and frustration she had suffered over her mother’s death and her inability to make anyone pay for it rose up and choked her. If she had had anyplace else to go she would have walked away from them all. Instead, she had had to ignore their guilt, try not to think of what they had done, and nurse all their petty ills just to survive. They were fortunate she was not the vengeful sort, for she could easily have poisoned the lot of them before anyone became wise to her tricks.
Well, she now had a place to go, she realized, and the tide of her fury receded a little. Lachann had not just taken Osgar and left, something he could have done with ease. He was taking her to Cambrun, too, even though he really had no need of her any longer. She suddenly wanted to talk to him about that, to hear him say outright that she could stay at Cambrun. The thoughts crowding her mind actually helped her regain control of her anger and need for revenge against people like Anne, people who condemned and killed anyone they did not understand.
“Oh, aye, I am leaving,” Adeline said. “Best ye pray none of ye fall ill or have a problem birthing a bairn, for none of ye thought to learn any healing skills, thinking them the devil’s work.”
The look on Anne’s face told Adeline that need for a healer was the only reason she was still alive, her skills quite possibly the only reason they had so easily turned on and killed her mother without thought to all the good the woman had done for them. After all, they still had one healer left. Suddenly all Adeline wanted to do was leave, to get as far away from Anne and her ilk as quickly as possible.
“Fetch anything Arailt gave or left ye,” ordered Lachann. “ ’Tis all Osgar’s by right now.”
“I ken no Osgar,” said Anne.
“He is the bairn ye left to die. The son of the mon ye had killed. Now, I ken he would have given ye gifts or something of his, so I will take it now.” He grabbed Anne by the arm and yanked her out of the chair, and he watched as she tried to hide her hand in her skirts. “I believe we will start with what ye are trying to hide.”
He pulled her hand free of her skirts and stared at the ring on her hand. It was a wide silver band engraved with the badge of the MacNachtons and set with a fat, blood-red garnet. Poor Arailt had cared for this woman. Such rings were prized and not given away lightly. Lachann wondered when the man had realized he had erred in his choice of lover and suspected it had been the night he had marked his own child.
She struggled a little when he took the ring from her. Keeping a firm grip on her, he pushed and threatened her until she gave them several items. One was a medallion that Lachann was sure Arailt’s kin would recognize. He was surprised the woman had not sold it yet. Vanity or the need to keep something set aside for the lean times, he supposed. He looked at Adeline as he shoved Anne back into her seat.
“Go,” he ordered. “Start on the path I showed ye and I will catch up with ye.”
“Nay, ye still need someone to watch your back,” Adeline said.
“I willnae
kill the bitch.”
“I ken it. That danger has passed, but she is still a threat. The moment ye step out of this cottage, she will be screaming for men to come and help her, men to kill you.”
“All of whom will have to ready themselves and run here, then listen to what she says. In that time, short as it may be, I can be gone. I think ye may need a wee bit more time than that and I have a faster mount.”
She hated to leave him but knew he was right. The time had come to leave this place and, since they could not kill Anne, the woman would soon rouse men to hunt for them. Her ponies were not fast enough to outrun a man mounted on a large horse, and some of the hunters would get horses. It was best to get a good start in her retreat.
“Silence her then. A wee tap on the chin should do, although I wouldnae complain if ye broke her nose and stole away some of that beauty she uses so cruelly. I will be on the path ye showed me.”
Adeline did not wait to see what he would do. Anne’s gasp of shock and fear caressed her ears as she strode out of the cottage. The minute she reached Osgar and the ponies, she mounted behind the boy and kicked her sturdy little pony into a trot.
“Where is Lachann?” asked Osgar, twisting around to look behind him. “We cannae leave him.”
“We are nay leaving him,” Adeline said. “’Tis just that we may have to leave verra quickly and his horse can move faster than ours, so ’tis best we start out first.”
“They will take his head!”
It was a struggle to hold onto Osgar as he thrashed and twisted in an attempt to get off the pony. He started crying when she got a firm hold on him and they continued to put distance between them and the village. Now she understood the child’s occasional nightmares, why Osgar would grow so pale when he talked of how his father had not returned. He had seen the men return with his father’s head. Adeline fought the urge to go back and beat Anne until she was little more than a mess on her fine wooden floors.
She was several miles from the village and was thinking she might need to go back and rescue Lachann when she heard the rapid approach of a horse. Before she could fully conceal herself and her little group in the trees, Lachann rode up, slowing his mount to match the trotting pace of her ponies. He looked as if he had endured a hard race and she sighed.
“Ye didnae give her a little tap on the chin, did ye?” she said.
“I dinnae strike women, nay even murdering slatterns like her,” he said and then grimaced when he saw that Osgar was watching him. “It wasnae her that cried the alarum, however. Her wee son came in, saw me, and went screaming out of the house.” Lachann smiled a little. “I look enough like Arailt that the poor lad thought he was seeing a ghostie. I did give the woman a light slap that knocked her a little foolish, but she had recovered by the time I had mounted and was out there screaming for my blood.”
“How close are the ones who answered her call?”
“Nay close at all. There was a lot of confusion still even as I started my race to join ye here. I suspicion they have only just gotten themselves settled enough to start hunting us down and they dinnae have the skill of a MacNachton to see in this dark. Best we keep moving, though.”
They rode for a few hours before Lachann decided it was safe enough to stop for a little while and rest the horses. She watched as he studied the things he had taken from Anne. It was impossible for her to understand a woman like Anne, a woman who abandoned her own child to die and who ordered her lover killed. There had to be some punishment for that, yet she and Lachann did not have the power to deliver it. She hated to think that the woman would never pay for her crimes.
The respite was a short one. Lachann took Osgar up with him and they set out at an easier pace, needing to get to the shelter he had spoken of before the sun rose too high in the sky. Unlike Osgar, Lachann could abide only dawn and dusk but she did not complain. A long stretch of traveling followed by a long stretch of rest suited her better than the several short interludes she had employed. It was a more normal mode of travel even if the times of riding and resting were reversed.
She frowned as the sun rose and they rode up a slope that had little trail to ride on. When Lachann stopped and moved to the face of the rocky hillside to tug aside a large collection of brush, she frowned as an opening appeared in the rocky hillside. The man signaled her to dismount and she did so cautiously.
“A cave?” she asked. “Ye wish us to go into a cave? Arenae there animals in such places? Wolves and the like?”
“There are no animals in there.” He grinned at her. “Afraid of caves, Adeline?”
“Nay, I am just nay sure I want to spend the day in a cave. They are dark and damp.”
“They are also shelter from the sun, something both Osgar and I need. And any enemy that tries to attack us must first come through here.” He pointed at the opening, which did not look big enough to let his horse through without pushing the animal’s head down. “Nature’s own fortress.”
“Are ye certain there are no animals in there?”
“Verra certain. I can smell the beasties, ye ken, and I smell none. Nay, not even a faint scent of a bat.”
“Bats?”
“Get in the cave, Adeline. Trust me, it is safe and clear of all vermin and predators.” Except for me, he thought as he watched her reluctantly urge her nervous ponies through the opening.
Chapter Four
Tossing more peat on the fire, Lachann stared at the flames, his thoughts consumed by the death of yet another MacNachton. Outsider women were a curse. They were behind the deaths of far too many of his people, yet there were so few available women at Cambrun that there was no way to stop all the younger men from slipping away to seek them out. They sought mates and children as any man would. Even some of the older men, revealing that age and experience did not always bring wisdom. Arailt had been a good man. He had not deserved the fate dealt him by the greedy, heartless Anne. He had been robbed not only of his life but of the chance to see his child, a blessed gift too few MacNachtons were given, grow to be a man.
He was pulled from his dark thoughts by Adeline appearing at his side, a bowl of rabbit stew in her hand. Lachann had been so lost in his sorrow he had not even seen her dish it out from the pot hanging over the fire. With a nod, he took the bowl from her, as well as the crude wooden spoon she offered, and began to eat. Out of the corner of his eye he watched as she sat down next to him.
“I am sorry ye have lost a friend,” she said. “Were ye close?”
“Nay. He was older than I.” Lachann resisted the urge to tell her that Arailt had been a good thirty years older than his own tender age of nine and twenty. “ ’Tis just that too many are dying and all because they trust in some Outsider wench.” He was not surprised to see her scowl and wondered why he goaded her. Perhaps, he mused, he needed to hear her defend herself, to remind him that she was not like the others.
“Are ye waiting for me to betray ye then? To turn ye over to the verra men who hunt me and Osgar?” Adeline could hear her anger over his mistrust in her voice but saw no need to hide the fact that he insulted her with it.
“Nay, and I cannae think why. Ye are an Outsider.”
“I think I have guessed what ye mean by that but, mayhap, ye can tell me just what is an Outsider?”
“One who isnae of the MacNachton clan, of MacNachton blood.”
“How verra nice. Nay a friendly lot, are ye?”
“And why should we be friendly? ’Tis the friendly ones who are being slaughtered, the ones who try to live outside of Cambrun, to mix with the Outsiders and be accepted by you. And now we have the Hunters.”
Adeline sighed. “Ye dinnae need to remind me. There were men hunting Osgar, too.”
“Aye, and their numbers keep growing. ’Tis why we are all searching for the Lost Ones.”
“And the Lost Ones are like Osgar?” He nodded. “And the men who chase us and want to kill him are called the Hunters? A name and nay just a word for what they are doing?”
Adeline shivered, her mind suddenly choked with the image of innocent children like Osgar tossed aside because they were different. She knew babes were discarded, especially if a family was too poor to feed another child or the babe was born with some deformity, but it was one of those tragedies of life she had given little thought to, would not allow herself to think about. Having seen what had been done to Osgar made it hard to continue to ignore such harsh realities. It took her several moments to remind herself that she could not save them all, could not possibly find where and when such innocents were set aside to die. She had saved Osgar and would certainly save any other child she might find. That had to be enough.
“Are there any of Arailt’s kinsmen, or women, left at Cambrun?” she asked, wanting Osgar to find family at his new home yet terrified of losing him.
“One. An aunt, but she is old,” replied Lachann after he swallowed the last of his meal. “I dinnae think she will be able to care for such a young lad, although she will be glad to ken that one of her blood still survives. She will grieve for Arailt but she was fair certain he was dead when a year passed with no word or sight of him.”
Lachann could read the fear on her face even though he knew she thought she was hiding it. She was worried about losing the boy yet she did not slow in her journey to take him to his clan, to people who could protect him better than she could. He opened his mouth to reassure her and quickly closed it again.
Now was not the time to offer assurances he might not be able to fulfill. Cambrun was not a place many Outsiders would wish to stay at. Nor was he certain he wanted her to stay there. His hunger for her grew stronger with each hour he spent in her company, but he had seen too much tragedy result from the pairing of Outsiders and MacNachtons to risk putting himself in such a position without a great deal of thought.
Born to Bite Bundle Page 30