Demon Laird (Legacy of the Mist Clans) (46 page)

His lips lifted even more. “Lia there is only one thing that truly matters tae me.” He lowered his head, his lips brushing her ear as he spoke.
“Vous êtes si belle pour moi,”
he whispered.

She smiled up at him
, tears of happiness in her eyes. “And you will always be beautiful to me.” She settled her head against his shoulder, her arm tight around his waist.

“Are ye growing weary?”

“The medicant I drank is making me drowsy. I will probably nap like that kitten we just talked about.”

He pressed his lips
to her forehead. “I should see what Aidan wants before he wears a path in the floor. I’ll be back shortly.” He rose and left the room.

Ronan found Aidan below stairs doing exactly that, pacing.
The below stairs of Ronan’s makeshift solar was empty, but his concern rose when Aidan threw the bolt on the door and sat at the table with him. Aidan dragged his hand through his long hair repeatedly and refused to meet his gaze.

“What is it?” Ronan growled, his good mood quickly fading.

“Ronan, this plot against ye and Lia concerned me. The English went tae great lengths tae lay ye low.”

“They almost succeeded.”

“Aye, but I was worried there was more tae it than we were seeing.” He paused and finally looked Ronan in the eye. “And I was right. We always thought le March wanted tae kill ye, but that wasna his goal.”

“What?”

“His purpose was to destroy ye and have ye live with that pain. That is the sole reason why he went tae such lengths tae make ye believe Lia was a spy. He still wants tae torture ye, even though ye are no longer his captive.”

Aidan’s words goaded the black hatred residing permanently in his soul
, and that was the last thing Ronan wanted. “Cease,” he growled. “If we keep picking at this wound, it will ne’er heal.”

“Does that mean ye will allow le March
tae continue his scheming?”

“
What are ye saying, brother?” Ronan asked, quickly losing patience.

“
We ken Longshanks wasna happy with le March for losin’ the War Wolf.”

“Aye.
MacFarlane told me as much, but I dinna ken how much weight tae place on his words now.”

“
He spoke truly when he said le March is no longer in control of the prison. The baron no longer resides there but in a fortified tower house not far away. He awaits his replacement. After his arrival, he will return tae England.”

“And forever slip beyond my reach,” Ronan growled.
He hesitated; he had spoken truth when he warned Aidan to stop picking at the wound. As he thought of le March’s elaborate plot, what he had done to Lia, and what had almost happened, Ronan suddenly realized he could not look to his future with that sort of threat hanging over his head.

He and Lia were to be married, and
Ronan eagerly anticipated being a husband, and hopefully, a father. But as he thought of Lia gifting him with a wee bairn, he knew. Ronan could not live looking over his shoulder, wondering where the menace would come from, wondering if le March would decide to launch a new plot against him or his family today, tomorrow… years from now. Nay, Ronan could not abide it.

Once again, Ronan
teetered on the precipice… justice or vengeance? This time he understood it was up to him to pull himself back. He paused, thinking furiously, then his head came up. “Aidan, I have an idea.”

Aidan studied him a moment. “I ken that look.”

“Aye. Come quickly, we have much tae do.”

****

Thick clouds blackened the night, and Ronan was grateful for them. The moon was full, but because of the clouds, he and the band of six men he led would not be seen. He and his brother had handpicked these men, included among them Connell, Robert, and Lachlan. Silently they stalked, gliding like black shadows, working their way closer to a particular fortified tower house in the Lowlands.

Aidan crept next
to him. “Gordy sabotaged the postern. We should be able tae enter.”

Ronan nodded, making a chirping noise between his teeth. Again the black shadows moved.

As promised, the postern was unlocked. They gained entry and spread out, each taking a different path to the same goal, le March’s solar.

Ronan
moved silently to the opposite side of the tower and looked up. Although Scottish tower houses were designed with war in mind, many times the laird commissioning the building would also take the opportunity to show off his wealth and power by designing certain areas for luxury instead. Ronan’s gaze searched the black wall in the darkness. At the top floor, he spotted what he was looking for. While most of the windows were actually archer loopholes and too narrow for a man to squeeze through, the windows on the top floor were wider and had an expensive, milky-white glass in them. That was the weakness, that’s where he and Aidan would enter.

Ronan tapped Aidan on the shoulder and pointed. Aidan looked up, squinting a bit, then looked at Ronan as if he had lost his mind.

Ronan barely bit back a laugh at his expression.

Sighing heavily, Aidan freed a rope with a grappling hook that he had tied to his belt. He swung it
, and it made a strange humming noise as it picked up momentum. Ronan glanced around worriedly. Surely a guard would hear that.

But the bailey remained quiet
, and within moments, Aidan released the hook and sent it upward. It struck the roof with a tiny
clink
and slid downward, catching on the edge of the roof. Aidan tested its hold with his weight, nodded in approval, and handed the rope to Ronan. Ronan also tested it and nodded.

As quick as lightning, Ronan ascended, his feet braced against the wall and climbing hand over hand. But for the first time, true fear pounded through his being. If he should have another attack at this moment, there would be nothing his brother could do to stop his fall. Ronan gritted his teeth and forced the thought away. He couldn’t worry about that now, especially not here. He glanced over his shoulder and saw Aidan following him.

Ronan’s shoulders and arms screamed at him, but he finally reached the top window. Not wanting to break it and raise even more cacophony, he drew his dagger and slid the blade in between the window frame and the support beam on the side. With a slight move of his dagger, the latch lifted. Ronan put his dagger away as he pushed through the window and entered. Aidan scrambled up the rope right behind him.

He found
the door to the solar and peered at it closely. It was locked with one of the newer key locks. Ronan ground his teeth—this he did not need.

Aidan stepped forward and shouldered Ronan away, his lock
pick tools in hand. As Aidan worked, the rest of Ronan’s men silently gathered before the door.

Ronan grinned as within three heartbeats
, he heard a telling click and Aidan opened the door.

The
y entered, surrounding the bed. Fortunately, le March slept alone this night.

Ronan moved with decisive speed and clamped his hand over
le March’s mouth. The man’s eyes flew open in terror.

“
Ye called down the thunder. Now there’s the devil tae pay,” Ronan growled. He clouted the man on the head, knocking him unconscious. In moments, they had him bound and gagged with a bag over his head. Ronan stepped back, listening intently for guards, for an alert to sound, but nothing reached him. The occupants of the castle slept on, the minimal guard on duty unaware of their presence.

Le
aving through the main door of the tower, they departed with their stolen prize. Well away from the tower house, le March finally recovered consciousness. He squirmed and whimpered on the back of Ronan’s horse.

“Be silent
, ye coward,” Ronan snapped. “Yer men canna hear ye.” He paused. “Ye willna die by my hand, but mark my words, ye will answer for what ye did tae my lassie… and tae me.”

****

Dawn was not far away, but once again Ronan crept through the narrow crack leading to the prison. He hauled le March with him and had to knock the man unconscious again to get him through. Fortunately, Aidan helped him, otherwise it would have taken him all night.

“Good God,” Aidan muttered between clenched teeth. “What is that stench?”

“Ye dinna want tae ken.”

Ronan pulled himself up and out of the crack. Fortunately, this area of the prison seemed empty
, and there were no guards. Ronan hauled le March out of the hole and Aidan quickly followed. They dragged him to the same cell that had housed Ronan then Lia. Within moments, they had the manacles locked around his wrists. Ronan saw le March’s signet ring on his finger and pulled it off. He lifted the bag covering le March’s head, checked the gag, and secured the bag again.

“One more thing
, and we can move tae the yard.”

Aidan nodded and followed Ronan out of the cell.

Ronan reached a room and opened a door. He lit a single guttering candle. Still heavily cloaked, he stepped to the desk and found several sheets of vellum. He located the one he wanted then picked up the quill and uncovered the inkwell.

He w
rote carefully, sanding the ink so it would dry. Then he lifted the golden signet ring and found the sealing wax. Using the candle, he heated the wax and watched it splash like drops of blood on the vellum. He placed the signet ring in the cooling wax.

A voice muttering in the hall reached him. Ronan extinguished the candle and returned it
to its place, he and Aidan fading silently into the shadows.

****

Dawn arrived, and Aidan left Ronan hidden in the yard. He made his way back down to the prison; not even a whisper of air evidenced his passage through the dark corridors. Activity was increasing as the occupants roused themselves, but the shadows of the murky dungeon hid him well. He arrived in the area where they had left le March. As Aidan stared at the cell where they had tortured his brother, a white-hot fury grew in strength within him. But he forced it down. Today they would see justice done, and the English would execute it for them.

A whining voice reached him and he slowed his breathing, stepping deeper into the shadow. A small, balding man stood before two giant guards, a piece of vellum clutched in his stubby fingers. Aidan focused on the man’s face,
watching his lips move, determined to understand his words.

“The new earl has arrived and is livid le March isn’t here to greet him,” the balding man said. He waved the vellum in the air. “Le March decided to go back to England but he left us a gift. He discovered the man responsible for freeing the English wench and left him in the same cell that
housed her and the Scottish Demon. These orders bear his seal, and, by God, we will honor them. I don’t care what the earl says.”

“I take it he is to be hanged today?” one guard asked.

“Aye,” the balding man said, nodding. “But le March vowed he would not see his death coming, so we are to leave the bag on his head. He was forced to cut out the man’s tongue to keep him silent, so we are to ignore his nonsensical wailing.”

“People gather in the yard,” the guard said. “They await a good hanging
; we should not disappoint them.”

“Now yo
u have it aright. Bring him to the gallows.”

“Aye, my lord.”

Aidan stepped back and grinned. Within moments, the two guards had fetched le March from the cell and dragged him out. He battled them, screaming, but because of the gag, they could not understand his words. Aidan’s grin grew and he silently followed them.

****

Ronan watched the people gather around the gallows from his hidden vantage point. A few minutes later, two guards emerged dragging a struggling man with a bag over his head to the gallows. The crowd jeered and pelted him with rotten food. Ronan wished he could enjoy the irony of it all, but knowing how close it had come to that being him, or Lia… he shivered violently and pulled his cloak tighter around himself.

“Ronan,” Aidan’s voice whispered softly. “Everything proceeds as planned.”

Ronan nodded. “Fetch the men and horses,” he said. “When I leave, we will need tae move fast.”

Aidan grinned at him. “I
dinna believe we’ll have tae move as quickly as ye think. Ye will terrify them.”

Ronan returned his grin. “We shall see.”

Aidan disappeared and Ronan’s attention turned back to the yard.

The Demon Laird!
a voice whispered in his memory. For some reason, the memory of the young lass lying so still at the base of the stairs with blood on her face intruded over his vision.

Ronan closed his eyes and shivered.

You have an illness,
Lia’s voice countered.

An illness for which there was no cure
, but Lia had been right there as well. With her help, he had learned to manage it, he had learned to live a normal life. He had vowed to defeat it, but it was also a part of him, and he accepted that.

He opened his eyes again, watching the happenings in the yard intently.