Taming a Highland Stallion: A Scottish Medieval Historical Romance (Beasts Of The Highlands Book 8)

by Alisa Adams

  Of course, my Gillis put up a fight, he thought.

  Keep on fighting, my love. I will find ye!

  He picked up the two books from the desk and looked at them again.

  One was Alexander Nisbit’s. Gillis must have found it in his room.

  Rane opened it, turning the pages to the very last entry.

  He looked up slowly, staring out the window with narrowed eyes.

  Then he dropped the book and ran out of the room.

  13

  Gillis was sitting on Wort. She knew it was her horse, though she was blindfolded, gagged, and her hands were tied. She knew his smell, knew his walk. And he had nickered to her when she had been thrown up on his back. Aye, she was on her own horse.

  The question was why? And where were they going?

  She knew Wort was being led by another horse. She could hear the hooves ahead of her and the jingling of its harness.

  The sound of the ocean came nearer and nearer until it was sharp and salty and moist in her nose. The sea breezes touched her cheeks and blew her loose hair back from her face.

  She felt Wort hesitate and balk as he stepped over rocks, picking his way carefully. The air became even damper.

  A cave, she thought. We have walked into a cave.

  Wort snorted and she tensed. She heard footsteps approach her. Wort shied away from whoever it was, almost unbalancing her in the saddle. Since she was blindfolded, her balance was off.

  Her first thought was that it was odd that Wort shied from the person. Wort was very brave and liked all people.

  Her second thought was that Wort must have a good reason to react that way.

  “I have brought ye here for a reason,” came a heavily muffled voice at her side.

  Gillis turned her head to the side and down, toward the voice.

  “Ye will dae something for me,” the thick voice said in an ominous tone. “If ye dinnae dae what I say, more horses will be hurt. And yer old aunt as well,” the voice said menacingly.

  Gillis froze. Her breathing increased as she strained her ears to identify the voice. Or at the very least, to remember it. She knew he had something covering his mouth to disguise his voice, however.

  “I know Laird MacLeod has taken and hidden the treasure of the shipwreck of the San Gabriel,” the voice spat out angrily. “I want it. Find out where it is hidden.”

  Gillis shook her head adamantly and tried to speak.

  “You will dae this! Or yer aunt dies and more horses will be hurt or killed. Dae it! Ye have three days.”

  There was a pause as Gillis’s chest heaved in fear for Aunt Hexy and the horses.

  “If I hear ye have told anyone of this, I will kill yer aunt immediately. Do ye understand?”

  Gillis nodded once as tears gathered in her eyes behind the blindfold.

  “Noo then, ye may be wondering why I brought ye all this way. Ye see, if ye dae not make it back alive from this place, all the better. I want ye out of me way! Ye are tae smart for yer own guid, just like Nisbit. Except that one wanted part of the treasure for his silence, so I had tae hurt even more horses to get his attention. When that failed, I had to kill him,” his muffled voice hissed at her. “Ye are a woman and shouldnae be practicing healing anyway. The authorities wilnae have it. Neither will I! I hope ye die here! The tide will be in soon tae take ye out tae sea and drown ye!”

  She waited for him to say more but there was silence save for the muted sounds of the waves outside the cave. She concentrated on listening.

  Where is he?

  Footsteps!

  It sounded like the man was walking away. She strained her ears to listen. She heard hoofbeats and the same jingling harness of his tack. Why was his tack jingling? Was it a cart horse?

  And then the sound was gone.

  The man and his horse had left the cave.

  She sat there on Wort. Her hands were tied behind her back. She tried to lean her head forward onto Wort’s neck to push her blindfold off, but it did not work. She must get down off of Wort and get her hands in front of her to remove her blindfold and gag. She could ride well enough with her hands tied if they were in front of her.

  She kicked out of the stirrups and cautiously threw one leg over the saddle. She lay there with her stomach on the saddle. She had no idea what the ground was like and it was a long way down from Wort’s back since he was so huge. Is it rocky or sandy? She knew she had no choice and would have to take the chance that it was soft sand.

  Gillis tried to slowly let her body slide off the saddle but without her hands she slid down fast and slammed to the ground, losing her balance and falling backward.

  Her head slammed into a rock with a sickening thud. Bile rose up in her stomach at the pain of the impact but she sat there, still, waiting for the nausea to pass.

  When the pain in her head seemed to ebb a bit, she tried to move her tied hands under her. She was thankful that she was in trews, for it was easy to lay back on the cave floor and swing her hands under her legs, then bend her legs and bring her hands under them and then over them to the front of her.

  She immediately reached up and pulled her gag and then her blindfold off. She stood up, holding one hand to her painful and dizzy head, and looked around.

  She was in a cave. A cave with an incredibly high ceiling. She spun around. A ship of the line in full sail could fit in this cave at high tide with no problem, she thought. And he had said the tide would be in soon!

  At Wort’s nickering, she spun back to look at him and almost fell to her knees at the sight.

  How dare the vile man! her mind raged. She let out a sob as she rushed to her horse. Blood oozed out of a multitude of cuts all over his beautiful coat.

  How dare he, how dare he, how dare he! She walked around her horse, seeing cut after cut after cut.

  Her brave horse had carried her all day with all these cuts on his poor body.

  No wonder Wort had shied when the man had come near her to speak to her when they had come into this cave.

  She looked down at her tied wrists and pulled and struggled. She needed her hands to see to Wort’s cuts but she could not get her wrists free. She struggled with them and then knelt at a rock to try to cut the rope, to no avail. Her wrists just became raw and bloody.

  She had to get them out of this cave and back to Kinloch Castle! She stifled her sobs and went to look out of the cave. Where exactly are we? They had been walking almost the whole day.

  She looked down at the sand outside the cave until she saw hoofprints.

  She could clearly see the giant hoofprints left by Wort’s huge hooves and then the smaller ones of the man’s horse. She also saw the prints coming into the cave and leaving the cave.

  The scunner assumed that with her hands tied behind her back, she would not be able to ride at more than a walk, if she could ride at all. Or that she would be relying on Wort to find his way home. Or that she would just whimper and let the incoming tide take her, and her horse? Never!

  The man did not know that he was dealing with a Ross, or a Ross Clydesdale! Gillis gritted her teeth and walked rapidly to Wort. He looked down at her with his big, dark, wise eyes.

  “Wort, we must get out of this cave before the tide comes up. I know ye would like tae stay and rest, but we must leave this cave,” she said softly as she blew into his velvety nose.

  The huge horse blew lightly back at her, acknowledging her scent.

  She walked over to the saddle and with her hands tied tightly at her wrists, she managed to mount up from one of the large boulders in the cave and grab the reins that had been tied around his neck.

  She nudged Wort out of the cave. Looking down at the hoofprints in the sand, she quickly put him into a trot.

  “Help me find our way back, Wort!” Gillis said with a grim smile.

  14

  Rane had been riding full gallop all day, pushing his big stallion, Hengeron, to the end of his endurance. The big, tough horse was covered in white lather and sweat
y foam. They had galloped up and down the valleys and along the cliffs of Kinlochervie.

  Then they had turned inland, heading south and then east, stopping first at the village of Achriesgill to ask the villagers there if they had seen two strangers riding nearby, as that was where the trail had taken him.

  He had been told by an old woman of the village that indeed, two people had been seen riding off in the distance. She remembered because one was on a big draft horse, which had caught her eye. They were heading north, she had told him.

  Rane had pushed north of the village until he found the tracks of the horses left in the grasses and purple heather.

  It was becoming harder and harder to follow their trail as morning turned to afternoon and afternoon to evening twilight.

  He stopped in Polla and then Portnancon along Loch Eriboll to let Hengreon rest. Then he had continued north and then westward along the rugged coastline.

  Each village he passed had told him the same story. Two people, one on a draft.

  But now, he had lost the trail. He brought the warhorse to a walk and then halted him. He could feel the muscular stallion’s sides heaving under his legs.

  “I am sorry Hengry, but we cannae lose her. We cannae!”

  He looked all around. Where could she be? His hands were in fists on the reins and his jaw was tight as his eyes narrowed on the horizon. He was atop tall hills far from Kinlochervie’s green and rolling western coastal lands. He could see all the way to the northern coast, where the land just ended and dropped off.

  As he looked all around he tried to imagine where they would be going. A place to hide Gillis, to keep her hidden away? But why?

  Rane looked up to the sky and groaned.

  I announced she is mine. He had also said that Gillis was trying to find out the cause of the Kinloch horses’ injuries. He had said this in the great hall, to all his men.

  He had to assume this meant that it was one of his men doing this to the horses, and who had killed Alexander Nisbit as well.

  And this person had now taken his Gillis!

  Rane put his heels into Hengeron’s sides and pushed him on into the night, past Rispon, Ceannabienne, and on to Sangobeg. As he continued north and then west, the night sky lit up with the “Mirrie Dancers’” flowing lights of greens, erie yellows, and purples.

  Rane looked up as the lights reflected in his eyes.

  “’Tis a sign, Hengeron. A rainbow in the night sky. She is close, I can feel it!”

  Gillis looked up at the night sky with bleary, pain-filled eyes. The lights are magical, she thought.

  She was fighting to stay clear-headed. The pain in her wrists and the blow to her head were threatening to overtake her. She was tired, hungry, and so thirsty she was growing weak.

  She had stopped at several streams to let Wort rest and drink, but she had been afraid to dismount for fear she would be too weak to climb back up on the big horse.

  She bent forward and rested her head on his big neck.

  She was lost. She had to admit to herself she had no idea where she was. The hoofprints that she had been following were long gone as the tide had come in. They had looked like they had gone up the grassy hill off the beach, and so she had followed. At the top, it was a sea of grass and purple heather and gorse and yellow whins for as far as she could see. And that was the end of any trail that she could follow.

  In the wonderful tales of old, if by some miracle Rane MacLeod loved her, he would come looking for her. But that was the stuff of silly dreams.

  She must find her way back.

  On her own.

  I am intelligent. I ought tae be able tae find my way back!

  She had stayed near the coast, but she did not know if she should travel north or south.

  Gillis groaned as her fingers curled tightly into Wort’s mane. She turned her cheek from his neck to rest her forehead on his sweet-smelling mane as the huge draft stood still, one ear back, listening to the noises his mistress was making. She groaned again and then whimpered.

  I can dae this. I have tae. I just need tae figure out which way tae go. She had not passed a village, but if she came to one, she would ask directions to Kinloch Castle. She squeezed her eyes shut and willed strength to return to her body. She could do this.

  She stilled and then raised her face to the sky and the beautiful lights there. The lights were in the north! She knew this! She was traveling towards them, which meant she was traveling north!

  Then she moaned and let her head sink back down onto Wort’s warm neck once more.

  She had no idea which way the cave she had been brought to was in relation to Kinloch! Had they traveled north to the cave or south? She groaned angrily.

  And then the tears came.

  She was not like her Ross cousins! They would know how to get out of this predicament and consider it a grand adventure! But no, not plain and simple, bookish Gillis, who did not know her way around the Highlands, her own home!

  “Gillis!” came a voice from far off.

  Gillis raised her head and looked off into the distance.

  She knew that voice, knew the shape of his profile even in the darkness.

  “Rane!” she cried out. She turned Wort around and used the last of her energy to push the big draft horse into a gallop.

  Rane bent low over his horse’s neck and galloped as fast as Hengeron could take him, flying over the ground.

  “Gillis!” he called out as he came closer. “Gillis!”

  His powerful voice rang like thunder through the night.

  “Rane!” she cried out as she desperately tried to stay with the huge horse’s gallop. She was so weak, she feared she would fall off of the big horse.

  “Gillis!” Rane roared as he galloped closer and closer.

  As he neared Gillis, he slowed Hengeron to a canter. He was able to see that Gillis was struggling with exhaustion and in danger of falling off the huge Clydesdale. He did not stop, but stretched his arm out and scooped her from her saddle and onto his horse, holding her tightly in his lap with one arm. Only then did he slow Hengeron down to a walk and then a halt.

  15

  Rane held her face in his free hand and covered her lips, her cheeks, and her forehead with kisses as he said her name repeatedly. Then his mouth trailed back down to her lips as he took them in a desperate hungry kiss that became deep and demanding. He clutched her tightly to him and heard her softly cry his name.

  “Gillis,” Rane sighed against her mouth. “I was out of my mind with fear…”

  “Rane,” Gillis whispered on a trembling breath as her lips traveled softly over his. “Rane..” A tear spilled over and ran down her cheek.

  Rane immediately gentled his hold and pulled back. He lightly kissed the tears spilling down her face and then brushed her long hair away as he looked down into her eyes.

  “I found ye,” he whispered.

  “Ye came.”

  He ran his hand over her exhausted face and smiled at her as she looked back up at him, clinging to the tartan thrown over his shoulder with both hands. He noticed her trembling.

  He quickly unpinned his tartan and pulled it from his shoulders and then wrapped it around her.

  She reached up to hold it and it was then that he saw her wrists. His eyes widened as his mouth set into a grim line.

  “I’ll kill him!” he yelled as he tenderly held her raw and bloody wrists. He pulled his small sgian dubh from his boot and gently cut her hands free. “He hurt ye,” he said hoarsely.

  Gillis shook her head. Tears filled her eyes and choked her throat. “Nay,” she managed to say. “But Wort,” she said as she looked at her big horse, who had ambled back towards them.

  Rane looked at the big draft stallion. He could see the cuts all over his body, even in the darkness.

  “Why? Did he say why?” Rane growled as he turned her face tenderly back to his.

  Gillis stared at him, her eyes wide with fear and indecision.

  “He threate
ned ye, didnae he?” Rane said in a low voice.

  Gillis nodded. “Aunt Hexy, and the horses,” she said quietly.

  Rane stared down at her with his jaw tight. The man had already killed Alexander Nisbit. Once he had a taste of killing it would become easier for him.

  Rane bent his head lower to look directly into her eyes. “I wilnae let him hurt yer aunt, or ye, my Gillis,” he said fervently.

  “I dinnae know who he is,” she said in frustration. “I was blindfolded, gagged, and he had my hands tied behind my back. If he had tied my hands in front, I would have pulled my blindfold off tae see him and then been able tae ride away. The scunner!” she said angrily. “Or better yet, I would have trampled Wort over his evil body.”

  Rane smiled down at this brave young woman. “I am sure he knew this, my love.” He looked around. “We need tae find a place tae rest for the night. You are tired and the horses are done in.”

  He looked back down at her to see her staring, wide-eyed, up at him. He looked at her questioningly.

  “What is it?” he whispered at the strange look on her face.

  “You said the words,” she whispered breathlessly.

  Rane paused. What is she talking about? Then it dawned on him what she had meant by “the words.” He smiled down at her. “Aye,” he whispered. “I did say the words. And I dae. Ye are my love.”

  “Ye love me?” she said haltingly. “But I am nothing, no one. I am not pretty or talented or brave or anything but plain Gillis.”

  Rane cupped her face tenderly in his big hand. “Och Gillis, ye are everything tae me. Ye are everything, all those things, and sae much more. Ye are my match. I never thought I would find a person such as ye. Ye are brilliant and intelligent and kind. Ye are not selfish, ye put the horses and others before yerself. And I think ye are beautiful.” He kissed the tip of her nose. “Ye bring me peace, and make me want tae be the best man, the best laird, I can be. I love ye. Say ye will be mine, and I will be yers. Live at Kinloch Castle with me as my wife.”