Warrior’s Redemption

by Melissa Mayhue

  As if he read her mind, Rauf pinned her against the wall with a twist of his body, all the while making some half-witted shushing noise.

  Always trust your gut about a man, her aunt Jean had liked to say.

  Her gut certainly hadn’t steered her wrong on this one.

  A SPLASH OF water, cold and stinging, awoke Malcolm to the nightmare of his reality, bringing with it the ceaseless pain.

  He struggled to shift his weight from his arms to his feet even as another bucket of water cascaded into his face.

  “You stink like the shithole you were in, MacDowylt,” the man in front of him called out, lifting another bucket into his arms. “Or should I call you MacGahan now, since that’s how you fancy yerself? Laird MacGahan. The mighty Malcolm, defender of Clan MacDowylt, turned traitor to yer people and gone soft in the turning. How mighty are you now, Laird Malcolm?”

  Spitting out a mouthful of water, Malcolm glared at his tormentor through the dripping clumps of hair that clung to his face. “Loose these bindings and we’ll see how soft I’ve gone, you putrid wee arse.”

  The man laughed, displaying a patchwork of missing teeth as he unleashed the third bucket of water.

  Malcolm turned his head, but it did little good to protect him from the unavoidable onslaught slapping against his face. If only he had a weapon. If only he were free of the bindings that threatened to pull his bones from their joints.

  Squinting against the water running down into his eyes, he watched as the door opened to admit another man, his arms stretched down with the weight of two large, obviously filled buckets.

  Rauf!

  He should have killed the man when he first stepped foot in MacGahan Castle.

  “I’ve brought the water you asked for, Henry. The other lads are following along behind.”

  “Set them down here. Yer welcome to stay and watch, if you like. Mayhap I could be talked into letting you have a go at him, too.”

  Henry bent to lift one of the filled buckets, his laughter ceasing abruptly with a loud thunk as the empty bucket in Rauf’s hand connected with the back of his head.

  “Now,” Rauf called from his spot crouching over Henry’s body.

  The door behind him swung open and Malcolm reconsidered whether he was awake or dreaming. Surely the women rushing in the door had to inhabit his dreams.

  Dani’s body slammed against his, forcing a whoosh of air from his chest as her arms tightened around him.

  She felt too real for him to have been anything but awake.

  “Oh, Malcolm! What have they done to you?” Her hands fluttered over his chest and across his face. “We’re getting you out of here.”

  “My lady,” Rauf called, tossing something through the air when Dani turned his direction.

  Her hand shot out to catch the little item and she began to pull at Malcolm’s arm, stretching up on her tiptoes to grab the chains that held him.

  “I can’t reach it!”

  Rauf was at their side in an instant, working the bolt from the iron around Malcolm’s wrist.

  When the chains came off, it was as if his arms had forgotten how to lie properly at his sides where they belonged, the joints and muscles aching with what had been demanded of them. Malcolm was forced to bite back a groan of agony when Rauf once again lifted his arm to take the burden of Malcolm’s weight on his shoulders.

  “I can walk on my own,” he managed. “Where do we go?”

  “The tunnels,” Christiana responded, rising to her feet after having tied the guard’s hands and feet.

  “Torquil kens the way to the water’s edge. It’s no safe to use that passage.” As he’d learned the hard way.

  “I’d no intent to use that way.” Christiana’s grin lit her face. “You traveled the tunnels with Father, but I had the advantage of learning from a servant. We’ll exit near the kitchens, where we’ll stuff you into a barrel and cover you with flour.”

  Dani’s fingers fluttered over his face once more before she grabbed his hand and lifted it to her lips. “For luck.”

  He was about to embark on an escape where he’d likely be suffocated in flour or captured and skewered on the spot.

  Luck was exactly what he needed.

  Thirty-six

  THE BACK OF Malcolm’s hand was hardly what she’d wanted to wrap her lips around, but it would have to do for the time being, in front of all these people.

  Dani held tightly onto that hand as they followed behind Christiana through the endless maze of steps and slanting twists and turns until once again a sliver of light appeared ahead of her.

  A sliver that grew into a chunk.

  She hung back, allowing Rauf and Christiana to exit first this time. No more surprises for her. Popping out of that last tunnel to find Rauf waiting had given her more than enough fright to last a lifetime.

  “Hurry!” Christiana hissed, urging her brother up into the back of a wagon where three barrels already stood.

  Dani squeezed his hand once more and he bent to kiss her lips.

  “Wife, is it? We’ll be talking about that one,” he whispered in her ear before climbing into the wagon and pretzeling himself into the barrel Rauf indicated.

  One soft, sweet touch to her flesh that would have to hold her until they were free of this awful place. One cryptic question to set her mind worrying.

  “Hold the mug over yer mouth and nose with the broken end to the hole as we cover you.” Rauf emptied the first of the flour down over Malcolm as he spoke. “We’ll have to put the plug in the hole until after the guards have inspected, but we’ll take it out as soon as we can. You should have enough air to keep you going until then.”

  Should have being the operative words as far as Dani was concerned. The idea that they’d managed to rescue him from that horrible dungeon only to suffocate him under pounds of flour haunted the back of her mind.

  Not that she needed to make up things to worry about. There were plenty of those already. Still, the plan seemed weak enough that she felt the need to voice an opinion.

  “I don’t like this. It’s too dangerous for Malcolm to be confined in that barrel. He has no way to protect himself. Or even to breathe, for that matter, if we don’t get that plug out in time.”

  For the first time, she saw something approaching anger in Christiana’s expression.

  “And what would you have us do? Dangerous? Pah!” The dark-haired woman smacked one fist against her other hand, her eyes flashing. “Where we just liberated him from, that was dangerous. Did you no see for yerself what they did to him in there? Or did you no recognize the stain on his shirt as his own blood? This is our only course, unless you have a better idea for getting him away from here?”

  Dani felt as if she’d taken a slap to the face. She’d been so busy making sure Malcolm was unharmed that she’d barely noticed the stain on his shirt. Not that it would have made a difference. Stain or no, she understood all too well that staying where they were was tantamount to a death sentence. And, realistically, she also understood that there was no such thing as a safe way to escape.

  “No, sorry. I know you’re right. It’s just . . . I’ve never dealt with anything like this at all before.” And it was taking everything she had to deal with it now.

  Christiana leaned in to put her arms around Dani, patting her back as she gave a little squeeze. “I doubt that any of us have. For now, let’s concentrate on what we do once we’re on the road.”

  Exactly. The plan might be scary as all get-out, but knowing what to expect was her best hope.

  “How is Rauf going to be able to deal with the guards on his own?”

  Though the groomsman had overpowered her when she’d come out of the tunnel, it hadn’t been by much. Certainly not by enough to inspire her to think he could deal with the group of men who would be escorting them on this little jaunt.

  “It’s no Rauf what’s going to save us from the guards. He must leave us here, as he canna be seen as helping us in any way. We travel on ou
r own, the three of us, you, me and Elesyria. We’ll have to watch for an opportunity along the way to break free of them.”

  The three of them? Against a company of trained guards? They were so screwed.

  “You must calm yerself, Sister.” Christiana patted her back once more before backing away. “Yer disquiet will put the guards on the defensive. Now get in the back of the wagon with the barrels. It’s yer task to remove the plug as soon as we enter the tunnel. Elesyria and I will ride in the front.”

  Rauf had already disappeared by the time Dani climbed into the wagon and with him all traces of the opening in the wall had disappeared as well.

  Dani shifted the blankets she sat upon, attempting to make them more comfortable, but the long lump underneath her didn’t give. A peek under the woolen confirmed that she sat upon Malcolm’s sword and scabbard. If they were to have any chance at all, she’d have to pass the weapon to him quickly once he was out of his hiding place. Though, in truth, all she could envision was six men using him for target practice the instant he tried to stand.

  “Hang in there, love,” she whispered, knowing he couldn’t hear her but feeling better for having said it anyway.

  “Orabilis is a fair odd little woman,” Christiana began, speaking loudly as if for an audience. “Living out in her little hut all by herself. So old and wizened that many call her witch. But I ken her to be wise and kind and loving, so it matters no to me what others call her. Oh! Here is our escort now.”

  Dani leaned around the barrel to see the men who would accompany them, the thought of how screwed they were flooding back as the guards came into view.

  There were six of them, three lining up on each side of the cart as it began to roll forward.

  Six. All large and foul-tempered from the looks of them.

  “Ulfr made no mention of the other ladies accompanying you on yer journey today, Mistress Christiana.”

  The guard riding next to the front of the cart appeared to be the man in charge.

  “I dinna seek permission of Ulfr to take my new sister to meet the woman who cared for me after my own mother’s death. It’s our lord, Torquil, who would grant such a boon. Do you care to delay us, and bother him, to question what he might have ordered?”

  “No, Mistress,” the guard responded quickly, his face paling. “We’ll no bother our lord with such as this. Move out!”

  Dani released the breath she’d been holding, daring to hope for the first time that they might actually make it outside the walls of Tordenet Castle.

  Passing through the long, narrow tunnel, the guards were forced to take positions three in front and three in back of the cart. Dani made use of the filtered light and the distance of the guards to dig her fingers into the air-blocking plug to work it from the hole in the barrel. When it gave way to her frantic efforts, she was certain the gasp for air she heard was not her imagination.

  “Do you feel that,” Elesyria sighed aloud, her face tilted toward the sun as the heavy iron gates clanged down behind them. “It’s as if I am born again.”

  “Aye, my lady,” the guard riding nearest her agreed. “It’s a right fair day for this time of year.”

  The next couple of hours passed slowly, each jog and bounce of the wagon reminding Dani of how cramped and uncomfortable Malcolm must be in his hiding spot. The idle chatter passing between Elesyria and Christiana weighed heavily on her nerves. How could they babble on comparing one herb to another when there appeared to be no way to overpower the men who effectively held them captive?

  Not even Malcolm could possibly take down all six. Especially not after having spent hours cramped into an uncomfortable squat. He’d be lucky to stand on his own two feet, let alone try to engage in battle.

  “Pull up here, dear,” Elesyria suggested brightly. “Just inside the trees. I’ve a need to stretch my legs.”

  Dani looked up from her worries to find the land had changed as they’d traveled from flat and brush-covered to hilly and, just ahead, heavily forested.

  “This is no a good spot for us to—” the guard who had begun to protest stopped, his jaw dropping slack and his eyes glazing over.

  “That’s a good boy,” Elesryia complimented, climbing over into the back of the cart. “What say we pop the lid on our floured warrior. These gents won’t have anything to say about it.”

  All too true, Dani realized, looking around the circle of guards. Each of them wore the same expression, as if they’d gone to sleep with their eyes open.

  Together she and Elesryia managed to pry the lid from the barrel. Once freed, Malcolm wasted little time in climbing from his confinement, though Dani was sure his legs must be cramping him something awful.

  “Battered warrior, I should have said.” Elesyria dusted her hands together, stepping back to put space between herself and the barrel. “Should have realized dry flour and wet warrior would not a good combo make.”

  Even covered in the dusty goo that clung to his skin and hair, Malcolm looked wonderful to Dani. Too wonderful to postpone any longer the kiss she’d wanted.

  Rising on her tiptoes, she fastened her hands around his neck and pulled his head down until their lips met.

  With a possessive growl, he pulled her close, delivering a kiss that didn’t disappoint until he pulled away.

  “We’ve no the time we need for that now, love.”

  “The six of you lads, into the cart now. Sit with your backs together like good boys.” The Faerie beside them smiled brightly as she jumped from the cart to climb up into the saddle of the nearest recently vacated saddle. “We’ll be needing these.”

  “Yer an Elf,” Christiana stated admiringly from her perch at the front of the cart. “But no exactly an Elf.”

  “Faerie,” Elesyria confirmed. “Much better than Elf, to my way of thinking. Come on with the lot of you. Who knows how long we have before someone thinks to come looking for us?”

  Malcolm strapped on his sword and confirmed Dani’s suspicions of his physical state by allowing her to help him from the cart.

  Once mounted, he scanned the horizon as if getting his bearings for where they were.

  “How long will they be like that?” he asked, motioning toward the catatonic guards.

  Elesryia shrugged. “Hours at the very least. Maybe a day or more. I’ve been shut off from my Magic long enough for its results to be uncertain.”

  Malcolm nodded, clearly already planning their next move. “We ride south, under the cover of forest as far as we can.”

  Dani mounted the horse next to his after assuring herself he would be all right. She’d simply have to trust in his ability to judge his own strength.

  Christiana unhooked the horses that had pulled the cart, sending them off with a slap to the lead animal before climbing up onto one of the guards’ mounts.

  “Just in case,” she said with a frown. “No point in making it easy for them to return for help.”

  No point, indeed.

  With one last look back at the vacant stares of the guards, Dani leaned low over her horse’s neck, racing to keep pace with her companions as they made their escape.

  Thirty-seven

  EXCITEMENT BUBBLED IN Torquil’s chest, almost like in the days of his childhood when his father had returned from some journey bearing gifts for him. Except that today, he was giving the gift to himself.

  He measured his steps, keeping his pace under control, refusing to give in to the giddy need to hurry as he strode the hall toward Danielle’s chamber, Ulfr at his side.

  He’d envisioned her reaction to the news he carried of her husband’s “death” a hundred times since early morning. Now, at long last, he’d have the pleasure of living what so far had been only a fantasy in his imagination.

  An accident, of course. A fall from the highest battlements in a misguided attempt to escape, the body too mangled for viewing by one with such delicate sensibilities as she.

  Stepping between the guards stationed at either side of her door, Torqui
l filled his lungs and exhaled, striving to achieve the proper balance of emotions the grieving widow would expect before he knocked.

  His knock went unanswered.

  She dared ignore him?

  After the second unanswered knock he stepped to one side, signaling for his men to gain him entry. With their battery, the door swung open and he stormed inside.

  Empty.

  He strode to the adjoining chamber, amazed to find it empty as well.

  “What’s the use of setting a guard if they sleep on the job?” His anger laced the words as he’d intended.

  “We have not slept, my lord,” one guard asserted, his voice shaking. “As you ordered, no one has come or gone from the chamber since the good ladies returned early this morning.”

  “I’ve had two sets of guards alternate,” Ulfr added. “I do not doubt their word.”

  “And yet the chamber is empty,” Torquil murmured to himself, making a slow sweep of the first chamber.

  If the guards told the truth, how could he possibly explain this?

  He paused in front of the fireplace, his eyes drawn upward to the rune carvings there. Centered above all, the ansuz, his father’s symbol, Odin’s rune.

  A closer scan disclosed a fine, dusty powder on the hearth at his feet. As if something long closed had been opened.

  Damn!

  He’d forgotten these had been the chambers shared by his father and his Tinkler whore. It would only make sense his father would have built in one of the ridiculous hidden passageways the old fool had loved so much.

  But the entries to the passageways were so well disguised, if a person didn’t know how to gain access, it could take hours to open, even if one knew where to look. Only someone familiar with this particular room, this particular passageway, could possibly utilize it.

  “Has Christiana yet left for her visit to the witch?”