J. Lee Coulter (2 page)

Chapter Three

Conan stretched languorously as he awoke the next morn, almost reaching the length of his bed from his fingertips to his toes. Not a difficult task for a man of six and a half feet in height.

His eyes popped open as he recognized that he was in bed...and well-rested.
How did I come ta be here? I was asleep at the hearth!
Try as he might, he could not recall how he got to the bed.
It must have been the spirit! I did nae ken that they could do such.

Glancing at the portal
, he realized that he had overslept. He leapt from the bed and rushed about the chamber preparing for the task before him as he recalled the conversation with the wraith.

She kept her part of the bargain...I can do nae less.
Wedding an ugly lass is the least he could do to save his sanity and protect the clan.

Conan called for his squire as he donned leather armor and as many weapons as he could muster.
A few moments later he heard the door slowly creak open and spotted a shock of red hair.

Nab peeked cautiously around the door before straightening his back and entering.

“Are ye...alone...m’laird?”

Glancing about, he replied cheerfully, “Twould appear so, Nab. Cease your skulking and help me prepare for me journey!”

“Ye are leaving, m’laird?” He hurried over to snug the laces on his armor.

“Aye...for a wee bit. I have a task ta perform for the spirit. Then she will leave me in peace.”
He grinned as he pictured the end of his ordeal...then frowned as he re-membered what he must do to accomplish it.

“I need ten stout men ta ride hard with me this day
… and the priest! Have them ready in ten minutes time! Be certain that the mounts are nae our finest, though, for they will nae be returning with us.”

Nab stared at him wide-eyed.
The spirit wants steeds? And why Faither Grant? Is he ta be a sacrifice? That makes nae sense.

Conan noticed that the young squire was not moving and arched his dark brow at him. “Did ye nae hear me, laddie?”

“Aye, I heard ye. I just can nae figure what a wraith wants with horses.”

“I do nae have the time ta explain! I am already late! Suffice it ta say that I go ta rescue a lass from danger and leave it at that. Now
be gone afore I lose me good humor.”

Nab flashed him a grin as he ran off to do his bidding.
That
he could understand!

It was near gloaming when they stopped to eat and give their mounts a decent rest. They had made good speed that day and were only a few hours from the Ramsey stronghold.

Conan was deep in thought, finishing off an apple beneath a large oak, when Jamie strolled over. He had noted the change in the young laird but he did not know the ‘why’ of it. Curious, he decided to ask.

“What has happened ta change your demeanor, m’laird? I have nae seen ye this hopeful for two seasons now.”

He flashed a grin at his captain. Jamie McGee was nearing fifty but he was as spry as a thirty-year-old and a good man to have watching your back.

“I spoke with the lady spirit last eve in me dream. She has agreed ta leave me be if I perform this one task for her.” He frowned as the task came to mind.

Eying the laird’s sudden change in expression, Jamie was not certain it was good news.

“It must be dire ta change your mood at the thought of it.”

He glanced up at the older man.

“Perhaps it is. Twill be difficult ta steal the lass from under their noses. I do nae ken how ta accomplish it...yet.”

“Lass? What lass?”

“The Ramsey lass. She is in danger from her faither.”

“Ramsey!” he roared. “Have ye gone daft lad? How will we get into
that
fortress?”

Several of the men glanced their way nervously. It was well known that
Ramsey Castle was impenetrable.

Conan pierced him with a look. “Keep your tone respectful man! The spirit will aide us when the time comes.”

Jamie sputtered as a myriad of thoughts swirled in his head.
We are being led ta the slaughter over a dream! A
dream
! Mayhap I should knock him in the head and carry him back home. Tis a favor I would be doing him.

“And what are we ta do with this lass
if...and I use the term lightly...‘if’ we get away with her?”

He gave the captain a quizzical look as if
he
was simple-minded.

“Why, I intend ta wed the lass poste haste! Tis the agreement I made. I am ta keep her safe as me wife.”

Jamie’s eyes bulged. “Ye are ta wed her sight unseen? What if she looks like her faither?” He shuddered at the thought. He had seen the man once a few years back in Inverness. Clyde was obese, with red hair, beady eyes and a pock-marked face.

“It does nae matter. I would wed a cow if it meant me clan’s safety and being able ta sleep again.”

“Ye may prefer a sow after gazing upon
this
lass! Have ye
seen
her faither?”

Conan shook his head as he began to wonder if he had made a bad bargain. Could he really stand it if she were unattractive? After all, he had to bed her, as well. A feeling of dread raced through him. Mayhap he had been a tad hasty with this agreement.

His lips tightened into a straight line as he determined to follow through with the task. No, it was the right thing to do...he was sure of it. Steely aqua-green eyes stared back at Jamie.

“I will hear nae more of this talk about me betrothed! I have given me word...and I will keep it! We have rested long enough. Ready the mounts. There still be six hours of hard riding ta see ta.”

Jamie threw up his hands in exasperation as he stalked off rolling his eyes.
Nae doubt about it...he is daft!

Conan began to wonder if he had erred in his assumption
that the spirit would aide him as he studied the castle through the inky blackness of the night. He could determine no way into the fortress. Moonless night or not, climbing the outer walls would be suicide.

“Where
are ye, wraith?” he growled under his breath.

Moments later, a soft glow appeared a few yards in front of him, beckoning him to follow. He and his men cautiously
shadowed her to a small wooden door covered in vines. It opened silently of its own accord as they neared. Once inside, he took a torch from the wall and lit it to find that they were in a small chamber with corridors which led out in several directions.

“Which way ta the lass, m’laird?”

Conan squinted in the dark until he spied Iona in the corridor to his right waiting impatiently for them to follow.

“This way,” he murmured. “We must hurry though.”

They silently traversed the dank passage as they endeavored to keep sight of their guide. She finally stopped before a hidden door.

“Ye must nae harm her, Conan. Gag her quickly so she does nae cry out and alert the guard. She will be frightened. When ye leave the walls, head to the northern tree line. There be fresh mounts awaiting ye there. Now give me a moment ta be certain all is well.”

His men gave each other darting looks as their laird said “Aye.” They could not hear the spirit speaking to him. A few quaked with fear.

Iona drifted through the wall and glanced about the chamber. No one was there except Kyla. Satisfied, she reappeared before the laird.

“I will lead ye back out once ye have her. Be quick about it. I do nae trust Clyde ta nae start a day early.”

Their eyes met in understanding for a moment. With a curt nod, he slipped into the chamber.

Blast! It is dark as pitch in here!
Conan had Jamie grab Kyla’s hands as he slipped a gag over her mouth, tying it firmly as his captain bound her hands. As she began to stir from her sleep, he threw a tartan over her head and bound it about her waist with a leather strap, securing her arms to her sides. Hoisting her over his shoulder, they made their exit as swiftly as possible.

Kyla was groggy as she first awakened. She had taken a sleeping draught that eve to ease a pounding headache and was still feeling the effects of it.
Hanging upside-down over a strange man’s shoulder was not easing her headache any either. She attempted to scream but it came out as a muffled squeak through the gag. She kicked and struggled until she felt a firm swat on her arse.

“Be still!” a hoarse voice commanded in a
growling whisper.

Her struggles ceased until she felt her feet touch the cool grass. She heard horses milling nearby and remembered the fire from earlier that day.
There are guards out here watching the herd!
The moment Conan released her from his grasp to capture a mount, Kyla ran blindly in the direction of the herd. Terrified screams rang out from steeds and guards alike as the headless... armless apparition streaked toward them.

The breath left her lungs as she was tackled from behind. The guards she had been attempting to alert
had fired off bolts at the lass as they fled in terror. Conan knocked her flat before they could strike her.

“Do ye have the mounts, Jamie?” He growled angrily.

“Aye, m’laird, nae thanks ta her!”

“Then let us be on our way! We just lost our
advantage!” Mounting quickly, they tore off into the night.

The terrified guards slowed their pace as they put distance between themselves and the headless apparition.

“Hold on there, Seamus!” His comrade called out.

W
ild-eyed, Seamus spun about searching the darkness behind Donald.

“Wha-what was that thing?” His voice shook with fear.

Donald shook his head. “I do nae ken. I never have seen such a sight in me life! One thing is for certain though…twill nae be
me
that tells the laird of this night!”

“He must be told!”

“Then
ye
tell him! He has been out for blood since the fire! I do nae plan on letting him spill mine! We must return ta the herd.” Giving his companion a sly glance, he continued, “We will forget this little incident. Besides… there be nae harm done.”

Seamus glanced nervously between Donald, the dark woods and the castle. He feared what they had seen but he feared the laird’s retribution even more so. Grunting agreement, he turned back towards the horses in the distance.