by Fiona Faris
“Amelia MOVE!” he shouted as he moved toward Cabduh, his sword extended. Tristan was busy freeing himself from the debris of the wall. It hadn’t been the soundest of plans, but Liam had told them of the weakness of the storage room wall. They had decided Tristan would break down the wall, giving Gavin time and distraction to free Amelia, leaving the Cabduh untouched. MacLeod men would capture the man, and he would be dealt with in trial according to clan law. In a moment of desperation, Gavin forgot all that, he only saw Amelia with a dirk to her neck, in pain. All logic fled Gavin’s mind leaving only Amelia. He had to get Amelia safe.
Amelia jumped back from Cabduh’s grasp as Gavin flew forward. Within the time it took him to blink, Tristan had Amelia in his arms, and the old Laird spun around, anger shining in his eyes. Gavin did not anticipate the fight Cabduh still had left as he lunged forward. Cabduh drove his dirk into Gavin’s side. He clenched his teeth as fire shot through where the knife met his flesh.
“GAVIN!” He heard Amelia’s screams, but darkness began to cloud the edge of his vision. He needed to subdue Cabduh. He wouldn’t allow himself to lose consciousness until he knew Amelia was safe. He fought against the man who had positioned himself to drop Gavin to the ground. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the Cabduh man he had felled earlier heading toward him. The fight was becoming uneven, and Gavin needed to get Amelia to safety.
“Get her out of here!” He shouted toward Tristan.
Gavin was too busy fighting the blows that came to him to see if Tristan succeeded or not. One after another, Cabduh and his henchman rushed at him. He was fighting harder than any field battle. Memories of Dunkled came rushing forward, and Gavin let out a yell as he moved toward the thick, younger man. He tried to knock the man over but missed. He heard laughter, deep and taunting. Could he lose this fight? He had to be strong. He had to have faith. He pushed at a thick arm that swung toward his head and ducked away from Cadbuh as he came at him again with the knife. This time he felt the metal dig into his leg.
Everything began to happen at once. Cabduh rushed at him again. Gavin could no longer pretend his wounds were not affecting his fight. He had lost strength. It was becoming certain that the old man would best him. He had to keep moving. He could not allow his body to give in. He had faced odds worse than two against one. Then suddenly, Cabduh flew back, a scream of rage, or was it pain, trapped in his throat, and as quick as the battle had begun, there was silence.
Gavin tried to keep his eyes focused, but he couldn’t see anything that was happening. Something wet, sweat, tears, or was it blood, was dripping into his eyes. It took too much effort to try and keep them open. Black pain was edging out the light in his vision. A low hum started in his ears and vibrated through his entire body. This must be what it was like to die. He dropped to his knees.
“Amelia, help him.” He couldn’t make out who spoke. Why was Amelia still in the room? Tristan was supposed to take her to safety. He felt softness brush against him as he closed his eyes.
“Gavin, are you hurt?” Amelia was next to him.
“Och, lass. I’m fine.” Amelia smiled down at him. He hated lying to her. Her eyes swam with emotion, and Gavin wished they were alone. He had so much he wanted to tell her. His mouth tried to form the words, but it felt dry and weak. Was it safe for her to be so close to him? Where was Cabduh? Tristan? MacLeod? Why was it so difficult for him to speak?
“Shhh, love. Don’t try to speak. All is well. It’s over.” She held him tightly, but he couldn’t feel her arms or the weight of her body. He longed to feel her. Confusion clouded his judgement as everything went black.
* * *
Tristan watched as his father struck Gavin repeatedly. Gavin had the upper hand for only a moment when his father was able to somehow dig his dirk into Gavin’s side, turning the tide and something inside Tristan snapped. The timid man, willing for all these years to allow himself to be dominated by his father and others faded away. In his place, Tristan found deep-seated anger that he had no idea lived within him.
“Get her out of here!” Gavin had shouted. Tristan knew his meaning. He should take Amelia out of danger, as they had planned, but it was clear to Tristan if he left now with his cousin, Gavin would not survive the day, and once again his father would win. He couldn’t allow that to happen. He lived now because of Gavin. The man was like a brother, and he could not allow his father to destroy him.
Laird Macleod and three of his men had entered the room at that moment, but then his father had dug his dirk into Gavin’s right leg, and Tristan was afraid help had come too late.
“Tristan, do something, please!” Amelia begged she worked frantically to rip the last of her restraints away. Her eyes wide as she swung her head around desperately. Tristan knew what she sought. A sword, a dirk, anything sharp that she could use to attack his father and help Gavin. Tristan saw the deep connection between the two, and it warmed his heart. He had long ago given up on any love of his own. He gave Amelia a quick nod and pulled the small sword at his side from its sheath.
Gavin stumbled, dropping to his knees. Time seemed to stop as Tristan watched his father pull back his knife and rush Gavin for what he was sure would be the final time. Tristan rushed at his father. The old man spun, looking at him with shock and fury. Tristan pulled him back from above Gavin. The scream in his throat cut short by surprise.
Tristan saw Amelia out of the corner of his eye. “Amelia, help him!” Someone shouted. Most likely, MacLeod.
Without blinking or thinking, Tristan pushed his father to the ground.
“Ye think to finish me, lad?” Cabduh growled. “Ye wouldnae dare. Ye doona have it in ye.” The deep hatred in his father’s eyes no longer burned Tristan. He was a mad old fool, there was no way Tristan would ever please him. He ruined their clan, their family name, and their legacy. If Tristan did not end it now, he would also bring about a clan war.
“Da, I have more strength in me, then ye ken. I wish it ended differently,” he said quietly as he drove the sword into his father’s belly. Cabduh choked. His eyes went wide.
“What did ye do?” he coughed out, blood escaping out the side of his lips.
“I ended it,” Tristan said, dropping the sword as his father drew his last breath. “I ended it.”
* * *
Tristan dropped the sword, and Amelia’s eyes went wide. Gavin had lost consciousness in her arms, and she sat with his head cradled in her lap. She couldn’t move, but she keenly felt the weight of despair from her cousin as he took in the gravity of what he had just done. Tristan had killed his father, and he was truly alone in the world.
“Tristan,” she said gently. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Liam rush to Tristan’s side.
“Och, lad, ye did what had tae be done,” he said, putting a solid arm around Tristan and leading him to a chair that had been placed in the corner. Amelia briefly wondered if that chair had been there the whole time? And if so, why had she not noticed it. I must be daft. It was as if the battle had never occurred and Gavin wasn’t hurt, but rather simply sleeping in her arms.
“Aye,” Tristan replied, and as if breaking out of a haze, he searched for Amelia. “Gavin?”
Amelia nodded, snapping back into her own reality. “I need help. He’s lost a lot of blood.” Everything moved quickly then. Amelia was lifted to her feet, and men scooped Gavin as if the giant Highlander weighed nothing more than an ounce. She rushed toward him, but Liam pulled her back.
“Gavin…” She could feel her heart breaking as they took him from her.
“Lass, they’ll take him tae th’ healer.” Liam wrapped her tightly in his arms. “Ye doona need tae be scared, the threat is gone. It’s in God’s hands now.” She nodded into his chest. Liam had been more like a father to Amelia in the last few days than her own father had been for years, and she felt safe in his arms, trusting of his reassurances.
She allowed him to comfort her, letting herself sob, and lose track of time, before the sound of
Tristan and his own sobs brought her back around. Tristan. How difficult it must have been for the timid man to do what he had done, and he did it for her. Pulling back from Liam, she moved across the room to where Tristan sat.
“Tristan?” She knelt in front of him, noticing the hollow, vacant look in his eyes.
“It is done,” he said again.
“I know,” Amelia began. What should she say? What could she say? Tristan had killed his own father.
“He was a bad man. He was always a bad man, but he loved my mother. He was my father,” Tristan continued. “And I killed him. What does that make me?” It was only moments before that she had hoped Gavin would do the same thing, and if she had been free, she would have killed the old man herself. But the thought of Tristan carrying the burden was too difficult for a son to bear
“Tristan, you are a good man,” Amelia believed what she said to her cousin. “I haven’t known you long, but your father was very ill, and you had no choice.”
“The lass is right.” Liam’s strong voice came from behind them, and Amelia turned to give the man a sincere smile. “Ye did what needed tae be done, an’ by doin’ so, you saved a lot of lives; not th’ least of which Gavin and Amelia’s.”
At the sound of Gavin’s name, Tristan’s head snapped up. “Gavin, is he?”
“Nay, he’s no dead, but ’tis grave, indeed. Gavin will need all our prayers before th’ night is through if he is tae survive.”
Tristan grabbed Amelia’s hand. “Ye must go tae him.”
Amelia nodded and stood turning to Liam, “Take me.”
“Aye, lass.”
Chapter Thirty-Eight
Amelia paced the cold stone floor of the bedchamber as Gavin slept on the pallet bed. The last time they had been in this chamber they had shared moments of pure joy and ecstasy, but Amelia could not think on memories. She wrung her hands. It had been two days and Gavin still slept.
The healer had told Amelia what she had already known. If he didn’t wake soon, it was most likely he would never wake. He had lost so much blood. Too much blood for Amelia to hold out hope much longer.
“Is there any change?” Her younger brother, Iain, bandaged and wounded in his own right, had come into the chamber.
“No, nothing. He doesn’t even stir,” she said. The last thing she wanted was to burden the lad, but she felt as if she were going mad. Gavin slept so still that she frequently placed her head on his chest to listen for his heartbeat.
“Sister, doona fash. Gavin is braw, he will wake.” He placed a hand on her arm, and she pulled him into an embrace. How lucky she was that he was such a fine, intelligent, and sweet young lad.
“Thanks to you, Iain. I’m pleased to have you in my life.”
“Och,” Iain said, pulling back, a warm blush lit his cheeks reminding Amelia of Ella. She too was easy to blush.
“When Gavin is well, we shall visit Cadney, and you will meet our sister, Ella, and your nephews,” she said, smiling.
“What is she like?” Iain asked pulling a small wooden chair over to the hearth, and then moving to settle Amelia in the plush, leather chair already there. She knew he was trying to take her mind off Gavin, and she appreciated how clever the lad was. She allowed it.
“She is beautiful. Fair like me, with blue eyes, but Ella’s eyes are a deeper hue, more like yours. We all favor our mother.”
“Aye, Da said ye were as bonny as she was. I’m sorry I didnae ken her, or ye and Ella.” He looked into the fire as Amelia grabbed his hand.
“She would have loved you, Iain. I only remember her happy and had she lived, I know in my heart she would have left my father and lived here with you and your Da. Maybe then, everything would have been different.” That seemed to make Iain happy, and Amelia’s heart warmed. Even though it had only been a few days, she already loved the boy dearly. She didn’t know how she would’ve survived these last few days without him. She began to tell him more, about Ella, their mother, and all the events that led her to him.
They talked well into the night. At some point, she must have slept because when Amelia next opened her eyes, the room was dark and a wash in the glow of the low fire in the hearth. Iain was gone, and a soft woolen plaid was draped across her.
Amelia sat up and stretched her arms high above her head. Her muscles sore from sleeping in the chair. It must have been well past time for her to change Gavin’s bandage. She turned to face the bed where he slept and let out a light gasp. Gavin was awake and smiling at her.
“Come here, lass,” he said, his voice husky with sleep. Amelia couldn’t help the tears that pricked the corner of her eyes. He was awake.
* * *
Gavin didn’t know how long he had watched Amelia sleep, but there was nothing more beautiful than witnessing her wake up, her body heavy as she moved to work her muscles into wakefulness. His mind was still groggy, and he wasn’t quite sure how he had been moved to the bedchamber, but he knew answers would come with time. At the moment, he only wanted to feel Amelia in his arms. He needed to be sure she was real and not a dream.
“Come here, lass,” he said and watched as she slid from the chair and moved to his side. Placing a cool hand against his cheek, she let out a sweet sob.
“I thought you would sleep forever,” she whispered.
“How long?”
“Two days. The healer said if you didn’t wake after that, you most likely would not have.” Two days, he had been asleep for two days. His mind raced with all the things that could have happened in two whole days.
“OCH, holy devil…” He tried to get up but winced as pain shot through his side and his leg at the same time.
“Please don’t try to move, love.” Amelia’s eyes grew tight with concern. She leaned down and placed a soft hand on his chest, and he let out a sigh. She was right. “You’re hurt badly. You’ve lost so much blood. I’ll send for broth.”
“No…wait.” He put a hand on her arm, stopping her from leaving his side. He was hungry and thirsty. He needed the broth she offered, but he needed her more, he didn’t want to be beset with servants, Liam, or God knew who else. As soon as she sent for servants, Gavin didn’t know when they would be alone again, and he had things he had to tell her questions that he needed answered.
“Are you alright? What do you need?” Worry furrowed her brow. She was lovely, but deep circles had formed beneath her eyes, and her skin looked tired. Gavin wondered how much rest she had allowed herself in the last two days. Had she slept at all?
“I’m fine, lass, I simply need ye tae be with me. I’ve things tae say.” He, coughed, and she brought a tanker of water to his lips. He drank slowly. Gavin couldn’t tell if the relief he felt was from the cool water coating his throat or from seeing Amelia at his side, free and unharmed. “Cabduh?” he asked.
“Dead.”
“MacLeod?” He didn’t remember Liam or his men coming into the barn storage room, but he did remember feeling lost. He would have died, most certainly. And if the Cabduh was dead, they must have come just in time.
“No, Tristan,” Amelia answered, sinking onto the bed beside him, her head in her hands. Her exhaustion took over her limbs, taking away any strength she had left with which to stand. He was weak but had enough of his own strength to pull her toward him with his good arm. Tristan killed his father to save me. He wondered how his friend was faring.
“Where is he?”
“He left yesterday with the remaining Cabduh men. He said there was a lot of work that he needed to see to at the Cabduh Keep. He is laird now, and he wants to help the clan prosper again.” Gavin closed his eyes and smiled. Tristan had finally found his bravery. All would be well.
“Gavin?” Amelia asked, lightly her voice floating to him like an angel on high.
“Aye, lass?”
“I thought you weren’t going to wake up.” He could tell her tears began to fall again.
“Lass, I wouldnae leave ye. I’ll never leave ye. I love ye.” He should h
ave told her weeks ago. He should have told her a million times. Death would never take him as long as he knew she was waiting for him. He would never let her go.
“You love me?”
“Aye, lass. An’ I’ll not leave ye alone, ever. Ye are mine.”
“I love you,” she replied. “I should have told you. I was afraid, but the thought of you not waking. The thought of you dying…”
He silenced her with his kiss. She loved him. He knew it, deep in his heart where only bleak darkness lived before that day in Perth, he knew she loved him as much as he loved her but hearing her say the words. That was all he needed. His lips were dry, but he could still feel the softness of Amelia’s under him. She was his for all of eternity. Nothing else mattered.