MacDougall 01 - Laiden's Daughter (43 page)

“Well, good day to you!” The soldier said.
 
“What’s a pretty thing like you doing out here all alone?” He asked as he dismounted his steed and walked towards her, smiling as if she were a long lost friend.
 
His teeth were just a few shades darker than stone and his eyes held a hopeful glare.
 

Aishlinn swallowed hard for she was quite afraid, but her pride would not allow her to let him see her fear.
 
“I am Aishlinn,” she said firmly.
 
“I am the one your Earl seeks.”

The soldier stared at her.
 
“Show me your hair,” He demanded disbelievingly.
 
Aishlinn removed her wimple and he could see that in fact she did have short blond hair.

“I see why the earl wants you.
 
You are a pretty thing.”
 

The way his eyes washed over her made her skin crawl but she stood firm and resolute.
 
“Where is your camp?” She asked, lifting her chin in an attempt to look far more confident than she truly felt.
 
“Take me to your sergeant,” she demanded of him.

The soldier drew his hand back and slapped her hard across her face, the force of it knocking her to the ground.
 
She tasted blood as anger roiled in her belly.
 

The soldier bent over and glared angrily at her.
 
“You’ll not be giving me orders!” he spat at her then stood.
 
He motioned to one of the other soldiers and told him to bind her hands.
 

“Take the wench to Andrew,” he ordered.

Before she could stand, her hands were bound with leather ties and she was tossed over the front of horse. The front of the saddle dug into her belly and sent a surge of pain clear to her toes as she tried to adjust herself.
 
The soldier mounted and slapped her hard on her rump.
 
He had a disgusting laugh, rather nasally in its intonation.

“Settle down there woman!
 
You’ll see yer earl soon enough.”

They rode hard and fast and by the time they reached the English encampment Aishlinn was ready to vomit from the hard ride and the saddle that dug into her stomach.
 

The soldiers stopped in front of a tent where she was unceremoniously tossed from the horse and landed hard on her rump.
 
She wished momentarily that she had a sword, or a dirk that she could plunge into the bastard’s belly.
 
Quashing her anger, she knew it would do her no good to fight. After all, she had willingly turned herself over to them.
 
What had she expected? The same kindness and compassion her clan had shown her?

A very tall man with dark hair, wearing the bright red coat of the English military exited the tent at hearing the commotion. His coat however, was embroidered with gold braids at the shoulders and cuffs and signified his command position.
 
He stared down at her with dull brown eyes. He held an irritated expression to his face, as if he had just become aware that he had stepped in manure. “What is this?”

“She says she is the one we seek, Andrew.” The soldier who had slapped her face walked towards him.
 
“She does have green eyes and short hair.”

The man they called Andrew continued looking aggravated. “How did her lip come to be cut?”

“She fell,” The soldier offered nonchalantly.
 

Aishlinn shot him a look that told anyone who might be paying any close attention that the man lied.
 
Andrew asked her, “Is this true?”

She hadn’t a clue how to answer and decided honesty might be the route best taken at the moment.
 
She shook her head but remained quiet.

“Which of them hit you?” He asked calmly.

Aishlinn looked at the soldier standing next to Andrew who followed her gaze.
 
“Go to your quarters and stay there,” he ordered him.
 
Before he stomped away indignantly, the soldier shot Aishlinn a look that warned she might want to watch her back in the future.

Andrew bent and grabbed Aishlinn by her elbow and helped her to stand.
 
“I am deeply sorry for the deplorable actions of my men,” he said as he guided her into the tent.
 
No matter how nicely he attempted to speak, her instincts warned her not to trust the kindness he was displaying.

 
He sat her upon a chair and untied her bindings.
 
He studied the burn marks the binds had left and shook his head.
 
She did look a mess, with leaves in her hair and the cut lip, but he imagined she would clean up nicely and be presentable to the earl soon enough.

“Tell me your name,” he said as he walked to a table and poured a tankard of ale.
 
She declined his offer with a shake of her head.
 

“I am Aishlinn,” she told him.

“What is your last name?” He asked, pulling up a chair and sitting directly across from her.

“I am a bastard child.
 
I have no last name.” She would not give up her family name no matter what torture they chose to put her through.
 

Andrew raised a curious brow.
 
“Where have you been kept all these many months?” he asked quietly as he crossed one leg over the other and rested his hands upon his knee.

“With a family several miles from here.”

“Who are they?” He asked.

“I lied to them,” she began.
 
“They knew not from where I came.
 
They kindly took me in.
 
I helped the lady wife around her home and with her bairns.”

“I asked for a name,” he said.

“Please, I tell you the truth. They know nothing of the earl and how I came to be here. They are truly innocent.” She swallowed hard, hoping she would not trip in her own lie.
 

“When a visitor came to their home and told of the soldiers that were near and that they looked for a lass with cut hair and green eyes, I knew it was me they searched for.
 
I knew I had to leave for I wanted no harm to come to them.
 
I snuck away in the night to turn myself over to you,” Her voice cracked as she fought back tears.
 
Parts of what she told him were true and she prayed that he would accept her story.

Andrew eyed her for a moment.
 
“So in order to save the lives of the family that took you in, you readily turned yourself over to us?” he asked calmly. Aishlinn could detect a hint of disbelief in his voice.

“Aye,” she said.

He stood then and walked about the room, his hands clasped at his back.
 
He paused and looked to her.
 
“Do you really expect me to believe that?”
 

“Tis the truth.
 
I swear it!” Aishlinn said, sending prayers up to God to make this man believe her.

He strode so quickly to her that she had no time to brace herself before he slapped her across the face.
 
The force of it brought stars to her eyes as she fell to the floor.
 
Her cheek burned and she felt the welt rise almost instantly.
 
He picked her up by her arms and shook her.
 

“Do not lie to me again!” He said squeezing her arms with so much force she thought they might snap in two.

“I speak the truth!” She pleaded with him.
 
“I swear it!
 
They were so kind to me. I knew your soldiers would not take kindly to anyone who helped me!” Her voice rose, thick with fear as she pleaded with him.
 
“I want no harm to come to them.
 
Please, I beg you!”
 
Tears began to stream down her face.

“I do not believe you,” he seethed.
 
“If you do not tell me the truth, I shall let my men have their way with you.
 
Each and every one of them.” Aishlinn’s mind raced as she prayed for the right words to convince him she told the truth as well as a way to prohibit him from keeping his promise. “But the earl, he has trothed for me,” she said desperately through her tears.

“Yes, he has,” Andrew said, his voice cool.
 
“We have been told to bring you back, dead or alive.
 
Though the earl would very much rather have you alive, it matters not to me.”
 
He squeezed her arms tighter causing Aishlinn to wince.
 
“I believe you have been sent here as a trap,” he told her.
 

Aishlinn was confused.
 
“A trap?”

Andrew let go long enough to slap her again. Aishlinn looked at him, stunned for she didn’t know what he was talking about.
 
“We know the Scots do not hold us in high regard.
 
They’ll use any excuse to attack us.
 
You’ve been sent here, have you not, to keep us busy while the ignorant Scots surround us?”

She shook her head vigorously.
 
“Nay! I swear tis not true!”
 

Andrew studied her for a moment and he could see the fear in her eyes.
 
He rather enjoyed that look upon her.
 
Carefully, he sat her back in the chair and began to pace.
 
Aishlinn rubbed her face where he had hit her.
 
She was suddenly beginning to wish she had not come, had not turned herself over to them.
 
It had all seemed so hopeless last night, as if she had no other alternatives.
 
She wondered if this was how her mother had felt all those years ago, desperate and with very little, if any, choices at her disposal.

“We leave immediately,” Andrew told her.
 
“The earl waits not far from here.” A smile came to his face as he saw terror flash in her eyes.
 
“Though he is not well, he does very much wish to see you again before you die.”

Aishlinn choked on the bile that formed in her belly and raced up her throat.
 
It really was over for her then.
 
But that had been her intent all along, to give herself up, to accept the punishment for stabbing the man who had tried to rape her.
 
She had done it to save her people.
 
A sense of calm came to her then.
 
She could only hope that death would come quickly and that God would forgive her and allow her through the gates of heaven to be with her mother.

It had not taken them long to assemble the men and set out in search of Aishlinn.
 
Her tracks were easy to follow as Duncan, Angus and more than a hundred warriors, including those belonging to the Clan McDunnah, headed northeast in search of her.
 
The tracks they followed appeared fresh and they estimated they weren’t more than three hours behind her.
 
She was on foot so the chance of reaching her quickly brought a twinge of hope to Duncan’s heavy heart.
 

He was angry with her for leaving, angry with her for acting so foolishly with no apparent regard for her own safety.
 
He was angry with himself as well for not thinking, even for a moment that she would be crazy enough to pull such a stunt.
 

If they were lucky enough to find her alive and well, he would be quite tempted to lock her in the oubliette for a fortnight! Well, maybe not an entire fortnight, maybe only a few days.
 
Or mayhap only a few hours. Just long enough to get her attention and show her that she could not just take matters into her own hands and leave without thinking the entire situation through.
 
How could she do this to his heart?

They followed her trail across the glen and into a dense thicket of woods.
 
Duncan growled when they were forced to slow their pace when the tracks became more difficult to see in the forest.
 
A few men dismounted to get a better look.
 
After what seemed an eternity, they picked up her trail again and traveled on.
 

His mind wandered to hellish thoughts; thoughts that they might not find her alive or well.
 
She could very well be in the hands of the English at this moment and God only knew what they were doing to her.
 
Breathing in deeply to settle the growing queasiness, he pushed his horse faster.
 
He had to find her.
 
He had to bring her home.

He made a deal with God that if He would allow him to find his wife alive and unharmed he would forever serve Him in whatever capacity the Lord wanted him to.
 
He would give all his worldly possessions to the church.
 
He would attend mass on a regular basis and would never take the Lord’s name in vain again.
 
There wasn’t a bargain he was not willing to make in order to see her safely back in his arms. He’d not lock her in the oubliette. Instead, he would climb back into bed with her where he would hold her and not ever let her go.

They had been in the dense thicket for quite awhile when one of the men spotted something white lying on the ground ahead.
 
He jumped from his horse and retrieved the wimple and brought it to Duncan.
 
Aishlinn seldom wore one. His blood grew cold when he found a few short, golden blonde hairs stuck to the cloth.

“Duncan, there be tracks here as well.
 
Looks like four horses,” the man said as he walked along following the tracks for a distance.

His blood froze when he realized his wife had gotten her wish. She was now in the hands of the English.

******

Aishlinn drew into herself as she sat with her hands bound in front of her riding atop a dark gray horse.
 
A soldier rode on either side of her, one of which had the reins of her horse tied to his saddle. They were riding fast and she was barely aware they were heading due east. She paid no attention to what was taking place around her. She was lost in a deep part of herself where the world around her could not enter.
 

She thought of Duncan, hoping that he would understand her decision and that he would not be too angry with her. Hopefully, she told herself, he would move on with his life and find someone new to love.
 
She prayed that the good Lord would give him a new life, like the one He had given Isobel and Angus.

It would not be long before she would be presented to the earl and her life would again be in his hands.
 
She fought back the urge to retch at thinking of what he would do to her.
 
It would be nothing like the love and tenderness Duncan had showed her last night.
 
She would withdraw her mind from it, accept whatever deplorable thing he wanted to do as long as it meant no harm would come to her people.

Clouds that threatened rain had formed by the time they reached a small clearing. A heavy mist hung in the air, chilling her to the bone.

Several grand coaches and more soldiers took up nearly the entire clearing.
 
A large tent, with the flag of England flying high atop it sat in the rear of it all and smaller tents were scattered about the encampment. The earl was more likely than not within the large tent. She fought back the urge to wretch, swallowed hard and forced herself to look away.

Several soldiers stood near open fires and seemed uninterested at the group coming into the encampment.
 
Aishlinn’s soldiers stopped not far from the main tent and helped her down.
 
Her legs were weak and wobbly, but the soldier caught her before she collapsed to the ground.
 

Leaning against the horse for support she rested her head against the beast’s neck as they waited for direction.
 
Andrew soon appeared and and led her to one of the smaller tents.
 

“I shall inform the earl that you are here,” he said as he took her inside and sat her in a chair.

“Please, do not even think of escape for I’ll not hesitate to cut your throat if you should try,” his voice was hard and cold. Giving her a slight bow, he left her alone.

A cold, dreadful chill ran down her spine. It would not be long before she would be taken to the earl.
 
She wished that she had been afforded time to pen a letter to Duncan.
 
She would have liked to thank him for the new life he had given her -- albeit not long enough for her liking.
 
She would have tried to explain that it was her love for him that helped her make this decision.

 
She would have written a letter to Isobel and Angus as well. She would have thanked Isobel for the kindness she had shown her and told Angus how proud she had been to be his daughter, even if it were for but a day.
 

Not much time had passed before Andrew returned.
 
The stern and unhappy expression his face held increased her sense of dread.

“The healer gave the earl a sleeping tea,” he said.
 
“Lucky for you.
 
You will get to live a while longer.”
 
He folded his hands behind his back as he studied her.
 

“I think we should take advantage of the earl’s slumber and get you into a more presentable state,” he said before leaving the tent. He returned after a brief time with a basin of water, soap and linens.

“Clean yourself. I’ll return shortly to help you further.”

Her unease intensified for she was quite certain that he did not mean to offer any kind of help that she would want.
 
She hung her head in her hands and prayed.

******

After having a good cry, Aishlinn stood and washed her face and hands.
 
The cold water chilled her, but not nearly as much as the thoughts of what the earl was going to do to her. It felt as though the blood in her veins had been replaced with ice.

It was some time later before Andrew returned.
 
This time she readily accepted his offer of a tankard of ale. She took it with the hope of becoming so intoxicated that she would not know what was taking place.
 
She emptied it quickly before slamming the empty tankard hard on the table.
 

“Remove your gown,” Andrew told her.
 

She stared at him blankly and steeled herself.
 

“Remove it now, or I shall remove it for you.” His firm tone and cold stare told her that he had no qualms in keeping his word.

She stared him down for a moment before undoing the laces and pulling the dress over her head.
 
Shivering, she clung to her dress in an attempt to cover herself. Her shift did little to hide much of anything.

Andrew grabbed her gown and tossed it to the floor. He stared at her approvingly for several long moments.
 
“I see now why the earl lusts after you so.”

“Remove your boots,” he directed her.
 
Aishlinn paused for a moment, knowing it would do no good to argue. She sat down in the chair and removed her boots.
 
The earth was damp and cold under her bare feet and it brought more chill bumps to her skin.

“I do believe the earl is ready to see you now.”
 
The smile on his face sickened her and she suddenly found herself wishing for something with which to stab him.

He wrapped a linen sheet around her shoulders, letting his fingers linger on her neck. A wicked smile flashed across his face before he grabbed her elbow and led her from the tent.
 
It seemed to have grown colder out of doors. Or perhaps it was fear that made it seem that way. It wouldn’t be long now, before she was dead.
 

They paused briefly in front of the earl’s tent as Andrew eyed her closely. “I do hope that he does not kill you straight away,” he leaned in to whisper his intent.
 
“For I would most definitely like a taste of you when he is done.”
 
He breathed heavily into her ear before kissing her lobe.

Revulsion shot through her stomach and she thought of kneeing him in his blasted English groin.
 
Andrew tossed her into the dark tent and closed the flap.

It took a moment for her eyes to adjust to the darkness for there was only one candle burning. As her eyes began to focus, she caught a faint image of someone lying in a bed that stood at the rear. Just like the sick bastard to be waiting for her in bed.

She strained her ears to listen and she thought she could hear a sick rattle of breath coming from him. She forced herself to take a step closer in order to gain a better look at him.

Something gnawed at the back of her mind.
 
There was something about the moment that did not feel at all right.
 
Aye, the entire situation was dire and wrong, but why he had he not pounced on her the moment she entered as he had done that night back at Firth?

Aishlinn soon realized why he hadn’t come after her. The earl was not at all well; his face was sallow and gray and his eyes were sunken.
 
Apparently he had not bathed in quite sometime for she could smell his stench from where she stood.

“There you are.” His voice was husky and low, weak sounding. She barely recognized him or the sound of his voice.
 

“Come to me,” he said.
 

She couldn’t move.

“If you do not come here this instant, I shall have my men bring you to me.
 
And they’ll not be at all kind about it.”

She did not doubt him. She inched her way slowly towards him and a sense of relief began to come over her.
 
He was sick and diseased. Gone was the strong and terrifying man. Only a shell of the man who had terrified and beaten her remained.

Hope began to rise; for she knew he could not harm her in the way she feared the most.
 
Kill her? Yes. But there was no way he could take from her what she had denied him months ago.

“I have been looking everywhere for you,” he told her, motioning for her to come closer.
 

“All across the lands, I’ve had men searching day and night for you.”
 
He coughed hard for several long moments before wiping his mouth on his sleeve.