by Mary Wine
“Now, ye sons of whores! Fetch me wife back!”
They frowned then turned and ran down the stairway after his wife.
His.
No one was going to ruin his plans. Certainly not her devil of a sister.
The empty doorway offered him an opportunity. He looked down the stairway and listened for a long moment before heading up the stairs. Everyone thought him a feeble old man, so they didn’t bother to mask what they were about when he might be watching. He climbed to the third floor and pushed the door open.
Sandra Fraser was preening in front of a mirror, with a maid beside her. She let out a screech when she saw him, but he’d already shoved the door shut.
“Now there, lass, there’s no need to be so skittish.” Achaius smiled jovially at the huge man standing near the door. “Although I’ll admit there is part of me that longs for the days when I could rouse a wench so!”
Sandra dug her hands into the skirts of the maid, dragging the girl across the room like a shield. “Send him away! He’ll kill me.” Sandra looked out the open window, searching for anything to jump down onto.
“Kill ye? An old man like me?” Achaius replied. He tipped back his head and laughed. He looked at Angus and grinned as he shuffled closer to the man. “Careful, lass, me pride shall burst from all yer praise.”
Angus grinned, dropping his guard. He looked toward Sandra. “Stop yer—”
His last word was only a gurgle. His huge body jerked several times as he looked back at Achaius.
“Ye should have listened to her, lad.”
Angus fell forward, blood spilling down his chest. His lips moved like a freshly caught fish for a moment as he tried to draw breath.
“No!” Sandra screamed. The maid was whimpering as she tried to fight her way free of Sandra’s grasp.
Achaius raised the dagger and plunged toward his target. He had one brief moment of victory as he gained a hold on Sandra’s shoulder. He gripped the fabric of her gown and raised the dagger high, but she yanked away from him. He kept his grip on the fabric of her gown, but the window shutters behind her were open. The violence of their struggle sent all three of them tumbling down the outside of the tower. They bounced onto the roof of the stable.
***
At least she wouldn’t die in the top chamber of Dunrobin Castle.
Sandra floated in a haze of dream fragments as she toyed with just going back to sleep. But the scent of smoke teased her nose. There was a crackle as something caught fire, and she jerked upward, forcing herself to wake.
Were the Sutherlands burning her?
Sandra opened her eyes and saw that the candle near her mirror had been knocked through the window with her. She snuffed it out before taking notice of where she was. Clouds covered the moon, making the night black. The maid lay in a tangle of arms and legs, her neck at an odd angle, her eyes staring sightlessly into the night sky. What little light there was glistened off the wet blade of the dagger still gripped in Achaius’s hand. He was half on top of the maid, his body still.
Sandra listened, waiting for someone to approach or notice her. It was a thatch roof she was lying on, the straw still wet in the middle, which accounted for why she wasn’t engulfed in flames. But only the wind blew, making the small area that had been on fire glow red. She smiled and added more thatch to the embers. She pulled the dagger from Achaius’s hand and tucked it into her garter. Smoke rose from the thatch, and a flame erupted. She nudged it toward the edge of Achaius’s kilt and watched it catch. She moved more toward the maid and made sure her gowns were lit before moving along the wall toward the dark end of the yard. The thatch was sharp, cutting her hands, but she climbed to the edge and slid down the pole at the corner. When she touched the ground, she smelled the scent of fresh horse manure. There was a soft nicker from one of the animals, and she back away before it smelled the smoke.
The fire grew, giving her the chance to escape. By the time someone cried the alarm, both bodies would be completely engulfed in flames. The horses began to scream with panic, rearing up to fight their way free of the stable.
At last, freedom was hers.
***
Moira tried to force herself to see through the darkness. She couldn’t go back, so she kept going, sticking close to the wall to let the shadows shield her. The Great Hall had light, but she hesitated, stopping short of the doorway, because everyone beyond was only a dark shape.
“Who’s there? Show yerself.”
Moira hesitated in the shadows because she was sure her mind was hearing only what she wanted.
Cam added his command to Gahan’s. “Come into the light now.”
“Thank Christ,” she breathed as she moved closer to the doorway that opened into the hall. She inched into the light, allowing only enough for Gahan to recognize her.
Gahan stood up and joined her. “Why are ye here?”
“Achaius…he…he thinks to lock me away, in the hope I am with child, but he said he’d make sure I did nae survive the birth.” She looked behind her. “And the Matheson retainers are looking for me.”
Cam had come close to shield his brother’s back. The wind was howling, making the window shutters rattle. Listening for footsteps was difficult. What they heard was far worse.
“Fire!”
***
Every castle lived in fear of fire.
With the call of alarm, everyone left their beds to fight the threat.
The stableboys woke and grabbed the buckets that were kept near the stable doors in case of fire. The wind was whipping the flames high. The entire top of the stable was burning. Men rushed to pull the frightened horses out. The animals were in a panic, and soon the yard was full of snorting horses and cursing men.
Sandra pressed back into the darkness as she watched those arriving to fight the fire. She was so close, and yet still too far away from freedom. Since the maid had been one of many, the fire might just give her the opportunity she needed. But the gate was still down, trapping her inside the MacLeod castle grounds.
Bari came into view, watching the firefighting efforts from the yard. It took all her courage to walk toward him. She was so close, yet it would take only one person to recognize her. She tried to pick a moment when everyone was focused on the fire and the bodies.
“Looks like Laird Matheson and Sandra Fraser,” one retainer shouted.
Sandra trembled with joy as the MacLeod retainers looked at the burning roof out of the window she’d fallen through. She made it to her brother’s side as he looked over to investigate who was near.
Bari gaped at her then clamped his mouth shut, biting back the words he wanted to say.
He gripped her wrist and pulled her into the second keep. “Get up to me chamber and put on me other kilt. Bind yer breasts and hide yer hair so ye can ride out with me retainers.”
He looked at his second-in-command. “Rouse the men. We are leaving.”
He cupped the side of her face, his hand trembling with his happiness. A moment later, he was back in the yard, shouting her name.
“Sandra? Sandra? Where the hell is me sister, Saer MacLeod!”
***
Saer wanted to smash his fist into someone’s face.
It would certainly be easier than trying to settle the arguing lairds around him.
Bari Fraser was cursing as he ordered his men to take the body of his sister, and the Matheson retainers were demanding information. Saer rubbed a hand down his face.
“Ah, the passion of Highlanders,” Kael Grant observed. “And they call ye the savage. It looks like that old man was more bloodthirsty than ye.”
“Enough!” Gahan roared.
Silence fell over the assembled crowd, but only for a moment.
“What in the hell are ye doing here?” Bari Fraser demanded.
“I brought yer sister,” Gahan informed him. “Me father left her fate to me.”
“She’s dead now,” Bari growled, pointing at the body wrapped in Fraser plaid lyin
g at his feet.
“As is our laird!” the Matheson retainers howled.
“There is a dead retainer in the chamber Sandra was in. Laird Matheson is the one who killed him to get to Sandra. Yer laird deserves the death he got,” Gahan said. “Laird Matheson was clearly intent on making sure Sandra received the death she’d earned by trying to poison me father, as I heard him swear he’d do before he wed Moira Fraser.”
There was grumbling from the Matheson men, but Gahan cut through their objections. “It’s that way, or I have to consider he was trying to insure his wife was the clear heir to the Fraser clan, and he was willing to commit murder to see it done. The Church will likely excommunicate him. Which explanation do ye prefer?”
The Mathesons quieted down and turned to wrapping their laird’s body in a plaid.
Moira found herself doubting what she saw. Achaius’s body was charred, but his signet ring had been on the corpse. His captain held it now as the Matheson retainers began to saddle the skittish horses. He looked at Moira for a long moment, clearly unsure what to do.
“Lady Matheson will be staying here,” Gahan said.
The Mathesons didn’t like Gahan’s announcement. They stopped what they were doing and glared at him.
“She needs to bury her husband,” the Matheson captain insisted. “And our laird said she might be carrying a Matheson in her belly.”
“The marriage was never consummated,” Gahan declared.
It should have shamed Moira; instead, relief flowed through her. Everyone looked at her, and all she felt was a sense of freedom. “It’s true. He soiled the sheet to cover the fact that age had stolen his vigor.”
The Mathesons all nodded, most of them looking relieved to know they would not have to take her home with them. Achaius’s sons wouldn’t be interested in sharing their inheritance with her, and neither did any of the clan’s retainers. It would mean less for them.
They finished saddling their horses, then raised their laird up on top of his horse. They left Moira nothing, taking her mare when they rode out of the MacLeod keep.
She’d never been so happy.
“At least I’ll be getting yer dowry back,” Bari declared. “Mount up, Moira, we are taking Sandra home.”
So quickly, she was terrified once more. The law favored Bari in every way.
“Since I was promised a Fraser sister, this one will stay to see if I like her,” Saer MacLeod said.
“Ye cannae do that,” Bari argued. “I promised ye naught.”
“I’ll keep whatever woman I please. I’m a savage man,” Saer responded menacingly. “I suggest ye leave me castle before I decide to keep ye and ransom ye back to yer clan.”
Bari looked to Kael Grant. “Do ye see that yer overlord’s son is allowing this?”
Gahan remained impassive. Kael hooked his hands into his belt. “He also allowed ye to make peace with his father, when there is nae a single laird in this yard who believes ye knew nothing of Sandra’s doings.”
“Take yer sister’s body and go, Bari,” Gahan said. “And if ye still want a feud, I’ll be happy to meet ye on the field, but ye’ll find it hard to get another clan to ride beside ye now.”
“Something Gahan will nae have difficulty with,” Saer said. “The MacLeod stand with Sutherland.”
“My feelings exactly,” Kael added. “So do the Grant.”
Bari stiffened, but he turned and left without another word.
***
It seemed unreal.
Moira watched the Frasers leave until even the sounds of the horses’ hooves had faded. The gate lowered, and the MacLeods did their best to settle back down for the remaining hours of the night. The yard inside the walls of MacLeod Tower was dark and quiet with only the sound of the blowing wind.
“I’ve waited a long time to do this,” Gahan said softly from behind her.
She looked at him as Saer and Kael also waited for him to make his meaning clear.
He closed the distance between them, reaching up to tug on the corner of his bonnet, and offered her a perfect bow. “I’ve waited for the chance to carry ye off to me bed, in front of everyone else.”
He scooped her off her feet and cradled her against his chest. Saer snorted with amusement as Kael waved at them. Gahan carried her with ease through the yard, into the keep, and up to his chamber at the top of the second tower. It wasn’t a huge room, but it was perfect. Gahan lowered her to the bed and lifted her hand to his lips.
She laughed softly. “Is that nae a bit innocent?”
He stood up and took his sword off. He placed it near the bed before working to remove his boots. She began to do the same, the excitement of the evening wearing off and leaving her exhausted. It felt like she’d been on edge for weeks and was only now being allowed the opportunity to relax.
“I believe I want to court ye, Moira Fraser.” He left his kilt on a table and joined her in the bed.
He cuddled her close, pressing her head onto his shoulder. She should have answered him, but she was too tired to make her lips work. The only sound she seemed capable of uttering was a soft, contented sigh.
***
Bari pulled up once the horizon began turning pink. His men were grumpy and displeased with the turn of events. No Highlander enjoyed defeat, even a verbal one.
“We’ve come away with the prize, lads.”
Doubting expressions were his reward. Bari grinned, and Sandra pulled the bonnet off her head.
“Me sister, Sandra, reclaimed from the bastard Sutherlands at last.”
Dawn washed over her face as his retainers nodded with approval. Grins split their lips as they began to laugh. Bari joined his men, their amusement ringing out loud and clear.
“And do nae ye fear, lads. I will nae take the slight Gahan Sutherland has dealt me without retribution.”
He kicked his horse into action, missing the disgruntled looks behind him. The Fraser retainers looked among one another, shaking their heads before following their laird.
There was little else they could do, even if they were tired of his quest for vengeance.
***
The MacLeod head of house wrung her apron. The fabric was creased in several places, betraying her rising level of agitation. She hurried through the hallways and ended up in the kitchens once more, a deep frown creasing her brow. She took a deep breath before heading into the hall.
The supper merriment was dying down now, but the laird was still at the table with Gahan Sutherland and Moira Fraser. Kael Grant sat there as well, enjoying warm cider.
“Laird.” She hesitated as all three men looked at her. “Laird MacLeod,” she specified.
“Aye?” Saer inquired.
She wrung her apron tightly, biting her lower lip until she found the words she needed to say. “Young Anna is missing. I’ve checked with everyone, and even sent to the village to see if her family knows where she be.”
“It is spring,” Saer remarked. “Perhaps she wed?”
The head of house shook her head. “See, there is the part that has me worried. She’s promised to a young lad, and he has no idea where she be. There is naught missing from her bunk either. But last night, the cook sent her up to Sandra Fraser with wine. No one saw her leave the tower chamber.”
Tension filled the room instantly.
“Did anyone see the body Bari claimed as his sister?” Gahan demanded.
“It was charred, the hair gone,” Saer said. “But in the dark, I cannae swear it was Sandra.”
Gahan stood up. “If Sandra is alive, she will cause trouble.” He pulled Moira’s chair back. “I promised ye a courtship, lass, but I need to break that promise. We must return to Sutherland.”
Moira nodded as a knot formed in her belly.
Part of her doubted anything could protect them from Sandra’s evil. Not even the security of the Highland fortress.
***
Seabhac Tower, Fraser land
Sandra trailed her fingers along several of the
undergowns laid out on her bed. She let out a little sigh as she felt the silk.
The Sutherlands would pay for leaving her to rot in their tower. Gahan would pay.
“The blue one.”
She waited as Alba hurried to please her by bringing the undergown to her. Two other maids stood nearby. They didn’t look at her but kept their eyes lowered until she decided what she wanted.
It had been too long since she had been cared for as she should be.
“The russet overgown.”
The maids had it in hand instantly. They dressed her and set her hair, then lowered themselves and scurried out of the chamber.
Sandra made her way down the steps, enjoying every single one of them. The servants stared at her when they saw her before hurrying to lower themselves. She walked through the Great Hall, soaking up the sight of it, then continued on to her brother’s private war room.
There were pikes resting in weapons racks, and armor on the wall. Costly helmets were stored on wooden heads, their surfaces shining from recent oiling. It was the section of the castle dominated by men, but that didn’t stop her. She walked toward the sound of her brother and his captains, intruding where other females would not have ventured. The room was full, all ten captains attending her brother.
“We are nae going to feud,” she announced.
Bari glared at her over the large table in the center of the room. A map was spread out over it.
“I’ll have me vengeance, Sandra. The Frasers will have their due.”
Sandra nodded. “Oh, aye. We shall have our due, but I crave the blood of Lytge himself for letting his sons imprison me. We shall have that only if we go to the king.”
Bari looked at the map, studying the land formations that aided the Dunrobin defenses. “The king is a boy.”
“Exactly, but one who wishes to become a man,” Sandra purred. “He does nae like to hear that his earls believe themselves above his law.”
Bari’s captains began to sit back, losing interest in a campaign that would cost lives when there was apparently an alternative. Bari was torn as well. Sandra saw the weakness in their eyes and seized on it.
“We shall go to Court and plead our case. It will be simple to prove my innocence.”