Her Broken Highlander (Highlanders 0f Cadney Book 3)

by Fiona Faris

  “Then it is agreed,” Gavin said.

  “Aye.” Laird MacLeod extended his hand in agreement, yet before Gavin could take it, a piercing scream shot through the field. Gavin and Liam both froze. That was no delicate scream or shout of fun. That was the danger. It was a voice that was burned on his brain. His stomach dropped. Amelia.

  “Amelia!” Gavin shouted, turning toward the scream. With his heart in his throat, he ran toward where he last saw Amelia and Iain. They hadn’t gotten that far in front of the men, had they? “Amelia!” he shouted, still hoping the lass would or could call out to him. If anything happened to her now, there would be blood. Any man who harmed the lass would shed blood. It was as if the Cabduh had been listening to his conversation with Liam and knew this was his only opportunity to strike. He stopped running when it was clear she was gone. He slammed his fists against his legs. How could he have been so stupid as to let her out of his sight? Gavin looked around, the lush green plants gleamed in the late day sun, but there wasn’t a soul to be found. She was gone. She was nowhere. Gavin could scarcely believe this was happening. “Amelia, lass, answer me!”

  “She’s nay here,” Liam shouted.

  “What about Iain!” The men were about ten feet apart, and there was still no sign of the boy or his sister. They couldn’t have simply disappeared. Cabduh could not have moved that quickly, could he? Gavin heard a low moan coming from the brush just to his left, against the stone outer wall of the keep.

  “Over here!” he shouted to Liam before moving toward the sound. He knew whatever he found would be bad, he just prayed it wasn’t Amelia or Iain. His prayer went unanswered. As he came closer to the wall and upon the brush, he recognized young Iain laying in the dirt, a puddle of his blood pooling around him. “Laird, over here! Quick!” Gavin knelt as Iain clutched his side. “Lad, can ye speak?”

  “Aye,” the boy groaned. Gavin checked his wound. It had appeared to be worse than it truly was. There was a lot of blood, but Gavin knew whoever had stabbed the lad had not wanted to kill him. It would have been a much graver mistake if the lad died. Gavin ripped a piece of fabric from his plaid and moved the boy’s blood soaked hands to apply pressure to his wound.

  “This will hurt, but ye’ve got tae hold it tight, ye hear?”

  Iain nodded. Liam ran up and dropped to his knees by his son. “Iain, lad.”

  “He took her, Da,” Iain said, coughing. Gavin stood to look around for any sign of Amelia. “He took her. ’Twas th’ old man. I tried tae stop him, but he stabbed me. Amelia tried tae fight, but he had two men with him. She could nay fight them all off.”

  “Shh lad, ’tis alright. We’ll find th’ lass.” Liam held his boy, keeping the pressure on his wound. Ten MacLeod men ran up. They must have been on watch along the wall. Gavin felt a pang of anger. If they had been doing their jobs, perhaps Cabduh would not have been able to hurt the boy and take Amelia.

  “Did any of ye see anything!?” he shouted at the men, all of them shaking their heads. Not a thing.

  “Close the gates,” Liam shouted to his men. “No one leaves or enters. I want all Cabduh men gathered under guard in the main hall! No exceptions! Find the lass, she’s gotta be here somewhere.”

  Gavin put his head between his knees. The earth was spinning around him. No amount of controlled breathing was going to bring his rage under control this time. He had to find Amelia. Cabduh could have already metered out his own justice. He had to think. He had to think clearly. But if he was to find her, he had to control his thinking. He could not allow himself to go to that dark place of blinding rage. Not yet.

  “Gavin, go… I’ll stay here with my son. Ye need tae find th’ lass before it’s too late.”

  Gavin nodded, thankful for the Laird’s even head. Gavin wasn’t sure where to begin. He knew at least they would not have yet left the castle keep. He headed toward the castle. He would turn every room, every closet, every corner of the keep upside down until he found her. Would Cabduh be so foolish as to take the lass to his rooms? Most likely not, but that was where he needed to start. After each room was cleared, he would place a MacLeod man at the entrance. That way, Cabduh would not be a be able to move around and dodge his efforts. This had to be strategic. He had to approach finding Amelia as he would a battle.

  Gavin entered the keep. Racing through the main hall, he noticed some of the MacLeod men had already gathered most of the Cabduh men and had them under watch in the main hall. He did a quick scan, eyeing Tristan in the corner. Memories of their time in the gaol flashed through Gavin’s mind. He doubted Tristan would have had anything to do with his father’s taking Amelia, but he could use the man’s help. Tristan not only knew his father, but he also had a brilliant tactical mind. He sat off, away from the other men, alone. “Tristan!” he shouted, and the man looked up, confusion on his face as he stood.

  MacLeod men moved to stop Gavin from entering the room.

  “That man there,” he said, pushing against one of the men. “He will be able to help me find th’ lass. Release him to me!”

  “We cannae, Sir. We have a direct order from our laird.” Gavin did not have time to argue with the men. He was going to get Tristan, and he was going to find the lass. Every moment spent arguing was one more moment Amelia could be in greater danger.

  “Do ye think yer laird will be pleased with ye if the lass is harmed? He holds the key tae finding her!”

  Yet the men were still immovable. Gavin did not want to have to kill these men, but by God, if they did not stand down, he would have no choice. He let out a low growl. “I’m nay in th’mood fer games, lads.”

  “Lads, let the Cabduh man go!” William’s voice boomed behind him. Gavin let out a breath of relief. He hadn’t seen William approach, but he was glad for the old man’s involvement.

  The men moved aside, and Tristan rushed forward. “Gavin, what is the meaning of this?”

  “Yer Da has taken Amelia,” he replied, trying hard not to let his emotions rule his tone. “He had a t least two of yer men helping him. I need yer help. Do ye ken what he could be plannin’? Do ye ken anything at all?”

  A look of pure despair crossed over Tristan’s face, and Gavin’s heart sank. The man knew nothing.

  “I doona,” came his reply. “Da was talkin’ like a madman last night. He raged against ye, me, th’ lass, th’ MacLeod, all of us. He’ll hae nothin’ tae do with me and cast me out. Nothin’ I said would calm him. I crept back into his chamber after midnight, and finally, he’d drank himself into a fitful sleep. When he woke this morning, he seemed much recovered. Honestly, Gavin, I thought he had given up his idea of revenge. He said he was goin’ for a walk through th’ garden, that was an hour or so ago. I’ve nay heard from him since.” Tristan ran his hand through his hair. Gavin was speechless. Tristan looked up at Gavin, a resolve in his demeanor Gavin had not seen before.

  “Enough, this has gone on long enough. It ends now,” Tristan said with a firm affirmation. “We need tae find him, and we need to exact swift justice.”

  The clans were mostly happy to let other clans figure out their own justice. If anyone were to object to the gruesome fate that awaited Cabduh as soon as he was found, it would be William.

  “Aye,” Gavin agreed. He looked back to William, unsure if he would get any resistance from the old man. It was a high crime to take the life of any clan laird. No one man would dare try it, especially not when guests in another laird’s keep. The old man simply nodded.

  Gavin grabbed Tristan’s arm, there was no time to lose. “He could nay have gone far. We will tear this castle apart. So help me, should he have harmed even a hair on Amelia’s head.” He didn’t need to finish his sentence. There was no man within earshot who didn’t know exactly how it would end.

  “I may have a solution,” Liam said from behind them. Gavin turned and looked at the older man, wondering how long the Laird had been there, what he had heard, and what if anything he had objected to. Iain hung, pale at his father
’s side. His wound was wrapped in plaid. Gavin nodded. Liam set Iain down on a bench and waved one of his men over to see to the boy.

  “Will he be all right?” Gavin asked, and Liam nodded.

  “Just a flesh wound, but still, I consider it an attack on me clan.”

  Gavin sucked in a breath. “Well tell us what ye ken?” His life, Amelia’s life, their future hung on the words he was about to say.

  “My men have found them,” Liam said. “And I have a plan.”

  Chapter Thirty-Six

  “You didn’t have to hurt the boy.” Amelia knew reasoning with the men was a lost cause, but the two men that helped him nab her were dangerous and aggressive. She could not let them thing she would be meek. “He’d done nothing to you. He has no part in this.”

  “Shut up, witch.” One of the men snapped as the other spit in her direction.

  Amelia turned her head in disgust. Her hands and feet were bound tightly. She knew she was somewhere on the castle grounds but was unfamiliar with the where they put her. There was straw on the ground, and the smell was distinctly horse. The walls were wooden and not stone, so possibly she was somewhere close to the stables. Perhaps a side barn? Wherever it was, it didn’t look oft used, and Amelia knew it would be difficult for Gavin to find her. Or at least before the mad laird did what he had promised as he’d dragged her across the bailey.

  Laird Cabduh was pacing at the front of the room, talking to himself in low tones. Amelia knew it was only a matter of time.

  “My laird, surely you do not want to start a clan war,” she pleaded. Maybe bypassing his men altogether and pleading right with the Laird himself was the way to go. His head snapped up, and Amelia got her first good look at his face. He was haggard and old. His eyes were blood shot and watery. The man was ill, and she knew at once no amount of pleading would change the course he had decided on already. However, she had to try. She couldn’t go down this easily, and if she could stall him, keep him talking, perhaps she could loosen her restraints somehow and gain the upper hand. Was she free, Amelia knew she could best the old man. Once she had him, she had no doubt his men would give in or flee. She secretly hoped it would be the latter.

  “Do I not?” he snarled. “What do I care? Once ye’re gone from this earthly place, ’twill be no matter to me what happens next.”

  “What about your clan? Your people?”

  “What about them?” he answered, waving his hands in the direction of the two men at the door. “I’ll be gone, what do I care?” Amelia saw the shock in the men’s eyes as the old laird spoke. They surely thought there would something to gain from assisting him. Maybe if Amelia got loose, they would not stop her escape? She tugged at the ropes that bound her wrist. If she could get a better angle, perhaps.

  “And what about Tristan?” Surely, he felt something for his son? Amelia could easily believe his grief had driven him mad enough not to care for his own life, but why seek out so much power if he had no care for his clan or his family.

  “Tristan, hah!” Cabduh let out a loud belly laugh, and Amelia cringed, there was something detached and evil about his reaction to her mention of his only son and heir to the clan. “Tristan is a welp. Nothin’ good will come from th’ lad, an’ I’ve told him such. Let th’ devil take ‘im.”

  He didn’t care for his son, his legacy. His only concern was destroying her. Maybe if she could reach a little deeper. “If not for Tristan what about for Lady Cabduh? My aunt; her memory and legacy would be tarnished by your actions. Would she want to see you in so much pain? Would she want you to risk so much for so little?”

  Cabduh rushed at Amelia. He swung, and the even though she knew it was coming, Amelia barely had time to close her eyes against his impending strike. The sting of flesh against flesh was acute. Amelia’s head dropped as her heart sank. Laird Cabduh was truly lost.

  A small whistling sound came from the door behind Cabduh’s men, and Amelia turned her head. Movement caught her attention: flame-red hair. Was her mind playing tricks on her? She quickly looked back at Laird Cabduh. He had forgotten her for the moment as he continued to pace.

  She finally grasped and loosened one of the knots that bound her wrists when the whistling happened again, this time from the window beside the hearth. Amelia was unsure what was happening, but she kept working at her restraints. She knew she saw that flash of red hair, and whatever it was that was happening, Gavin was surely behind it. Her heart soared.

  He had come for her.

  “What th’ devil?” The whistling came again, this time Laird Cabduh and his men noticed, but it was too late. The door burst open, and Gavin swiftly dispatched both henchmen. Kicking one in the groin, he fell with a moaning thud. Gavin then turned to the other who threw up his hands and attempted to run from the room. Amelia sucked in a breath as Gavin whipped around on him and knocked his skull with the hilt of his sword. There was rage in his eyes, but Amelia saw his restraint. He wasn’t in a blind rage as he had been that day in the library. No, all of Gavin’s moves now were calculated and precise.

  Amelia managed to free her hands completely and took advantage of Gavin’s surprise attack to undo her legs.

  “Are ye hurt, lass?” he shouted, moving toward her. Before she was able to answer, she saw his eyes go wide and felt herself being thrust upward.

  She let out a sharp scream before she felt arms wrap around her and a blunt metal edge against her throat.

  “Stop right there, MacGille,” Cabduh warned. “I was plannin’ tae make th’ witch’s death slow like me poor lady wife’s, but if ye come one step closer, I’ll slit her throat. Ye can watch her bleed.”

  “It’s over, Cabduh, let th’ lass go.” Gavin’s eyes burned with fury. He hadn’t killed Cabduh’s men, but Amelia wasn’t sure the old laird would escape this day with his life. She looked her love in the eyes and hoped to convey how mad and unhinged Cabduh had become.

  “Do ye think I willnae do it, lad?” Gavin lunged forward, and Cabduh pulled back pushing the dirk firmly into her throat. “She is a curse!” She gasped as the cold metal pressed deeper into her neck. He had her hands secured with his free hand. Amelia was surprised at his strength.

  Gavin put his hands out, doing his best to try and calm the agitated laird. “Come now, Cabduh, we can talk about this. Enough blood has been shed.”

  “Has it?” Cabduh asked. “An’ who will bring me precious wife back from her eternal sleep? Who will make the witch pay for what she’s done? You think I should let her live? I should give ye th’ woman ye love? What of th’ woman I loved? Yer an arrogant lad, MacGille. Always have been. There is right, and there is just. Th’ lass owes me her life. Now put down yer sword, lest I kill ye too!”

  Amelia began to panic. Her eyes darted between Cabduh and Gavin. Everything in her wanted to shout to him to listen to the old laird, believe him, and for Gavin to put down his weapon, but she knew that would be sealing their fates. She could not allow it. She fought against Cabduh, let him slit her throat, as long as it gave Gavin the momentum he needed to beat the crazed old man, her life would be worth it. She looked up at Gavin one last time. She wanted his face to be the last thing she saw before her end came. She loved him.

  “Amelia, stay calm lass,” Gavin said, his eyes gentling when his emerald gaze caught her own. She knew at that moment he would sacrifice everything to see her safe. Amelia’s heart began to race. Her fear for her own life was nothing compared to her fear for Gavin’s. She’d seen him in battle and knew under normal circumstances Laird Cabduh, in his condition would be no match for the Highlander, but the old man’s grief had taken hold tightly, and a man without anything to lose was dangerous.

  Why didn’t the old man just finish his revenge? She didn’t see any way out of this.

  “Enough talkin’. ’Tis time to end this. The lass dies now!”

  Cabduh pressed the dirk against her again, and Amelia tried to keep her breath slow and steady. She kept her eyes on Gavin. She took solace in her
luck that she had found him. Tears filled her vision. She loved him desperately. She wanted him to know. Her last words would be to him.

  “Gav, I—” she whispered, coughing from the pressure of Cabduh’s weapon against her.

  “NOOOOWWW!” Gavin’s scream was deep and filled with purpose.

  Suddenly a crash from behind them caused Cabduh to loosen his grip. Amelia wrenched herself free, and time stopped as Tristan came crashing through the wall.

  Chapter Thirty-Seven

  Gavin took the advantage of the distraction of Tristan’s entrance to lunge at Cabduh. He needed Amelia to pull away just enough for Gavin to see a clear path to drive his sword into the old man’s leg. He had promised Tristan he wouldn’t kill the old man outright but seeing him so intent on hurting Amelia had tested his patience. He fought hard and pushed down the desire to plunge his weapon into the man’s heart instead.