Mist Warrior (54 page)

He
managed to haul himself to his knees and gradually to his feet. The chain rattled, sliding through the ring on the wall. It allowed him some movement
,
but not much and certainly not enough to reach Strickland.

Branan’s
gaze frantically searched the hall. Brackenburgh's servants cowered in dark corners, trying not to draw Strickland's attention.

“
Wine!
”
Strickland
bellowed.

One brave lad sprinted for the kitchens and quickly returned with a cup. He handed it to Strickland
,
bowed, then scurried out of reach. But Strickland ignored the servant, his attention riveted on Branan.

Branan's gaze slid over Strickland's soldiers loitering in the hall, there were not as many as he expected. Strickland must have attacked Brackenburgh at the same time he set the trap for Branan. Considering the lack of damage, the castle gates must have been open and those at Brackenburgh taken by surprise.

Several of Strickland's guards hovered over knots of people. Branan saw not only those who worked at Brackenburgh
,
but several mercenaries as well. Most were wounded
,
but he only saw two that appeared seriously so. His gaze stopped on two forms and his heart rattled in his chest. A soldier stood guard over Gavin, also chained and on his knees. His wounds were not bound. He
swayed slightly and Branan wondered if he was truly coherent. Beside him lay Jaime
,
unconscious
. B
lood soaked through his plaid, pooling on the floor. The lad still breathed
,
but Branan feared it wouldn't be for much longer.

Where was
—

Her scream, filled with rage, flayed Branan's heart.

A soldier dragged her down the stairs, his hand locked on her arm like a vice. Catriona fought and kicked
,
but she was no match for the man. The soldier hauled her before Strickland. Catriona spotted Branan and her face turned ashen.
“
Nay!
”
she lunged for him
,
but the soldier stopped her flight.

Branan hit the end of the chains and snarled.

Strickland laughed and Catriona spun to face him, terror glazing her eyes.

“
Aye,
”
Strickland
purred,
rising from Branan’s
chair.
“
Now the little hellcat knows she is defeated.
”
He looked to Branan still straining against his chains.
“
You are too dangerous to leave alive for any length of time. But I will stay my hand just long enough for you to witness my complete victory. David, teach your future wife the meaning of obedience.
”

The soldier tossed Catriona to David
,
who seized her arm. But Catriona used her momentum and plow
ed the heel of her hand into David’s
nose. Blood flew
,
but to Branan's disappointment she did
not break it. Catriona
kicked his shin and clawed his face, screaming in pure rage.

“
Bitch! David cried and lifted his hand.

Branan's vision tunneled and tinted red. He hit the end of his chains
,
yank
ing
his arms backward
,
threaten
ing
to dislocate his shoulders.

David's fist descended.

A memory of a fist descending on his mother cut across Branan's vision.

David's fist slammed into Catriona's face. Her body went limp. She crumpled floor and did not move, a red mark on her left temple.

Something snapped in Branan.
“
Nay!
”
The black rage possessed him, seizing him in its terrible claws. The madness he had fought for so long erupted
,
spewing primal fury, destroying his sanity
. T
his time he did not resist.

He embraced it.

An inhuman power filled him. The bloodlust surged through hi
s body obliterating his pain. Branan
strained against his chains, his roar echoed through the hall. Red hazed his vision
,
but for the first time
,
his vision sharped with an almost perfect clarity.

David stepped over Catriona
,
hi
s hand tearing open
her over-dress.

Madness seethed within Branan. He grabbed his chains with both hands and hauled on them with all his might. A single link, caught in the ring, stretched and deformed, appearing as molten as the white hot fury coursing within his veins. Branan summoned all of the heartbreak he had known, the agony of watching his mother die, his own pain suffered under Strickland's fists, the anguish over his murdered father.

David dropped to his knees, pushing the skirt of Catriona's under-dress up her leg. He rid himself of his belt and fumbled with the ties of his trews. His eyes burned with
a sickening
feral desire.

Branan fed the black demon that resided permanently in his soul, created from Strickland's hatred, and unleashed it.

The steel link thinned and stretched then snapped.

Terrified screams filled theamThe ste hall as Branan charged David. He swung the length of chain over his head and cast it outward
,
right as David looked up, blinking at him in shock. The chain slammed into his head. Blood and gray matter flew,
soaking Branan and strengthening
the demon.

He kicked David's body
away and stood over Catriona. Branan
again swung the chain over his head, it made a strange humming sound as it gained momentum.

“
Kill him!
”
Strickland shrieked.

A soldier drew his sword and charged
,
with three more close behind. Branan's growl matched the hum of the chain.

Another roar sounded. Gavin tackled one of the soldiers, driving him to the ground. They rolled across the floor. Even though the manacles still bound Gavin's hands in front of him, he managed to gain the advantage. They stopped rolling with Gavin atop the soldier, his hands locked on the man's throat. His grip tightened and he strangled the sod.

“
Cruach Mór!
”
Branan bellowed.

His battle cry spurred the mercenaries allied with him and Brackenburgh. Although wounded, many were still able to fight. They turned against their captors.

Branan
launched the chain. It wrapped around the neck of the lead soldier. Branan yanked and the man's neck snapped. He dropped dead on the floor. With another yank, Branan freed the chain then grabbed it in both hands, stretching it taut over his head. He caught the second man's descending sword blade
,
and with a quick move
, wrapped the chain around it. Branan
kicked and the soldier flew backward, losing his grip on his sword. Gavin abruptly appeared
,
ending the man's fight just as he had the first. Branan flipped the weapon into the air and caught it by the hilt. Another soldier charged and Branan thrust the blade into his gut.

“
Branan
,
behind you!
”
Gavin shouted.

He
spun, unwilling to move from Catriona's still unconsc st

.
A
huge claymore
,
with a thistle engraved on its brass hilt and a green emerald on the pommel
,
descended.

Branan blocked with his stolen sword. The claymore smashed into it, snapping the
poorly made
weapon in half. But Branan had deflected the blow
,
enough that the claymore's tip only gouged his shoulder rather than slamming into his neck. He marveled he felt no pain as he gazed down gaping at the four inch long slice in the muscle.
Branan
curled his lip and looked back at Strickland.
“
Ye shouldna' ha' done that,
”
he growled, his voice primitive, barely able to form the words.

Strickland's eyes widened in horror as he suddenly realized he faced a man possessed.

Branan lunged
,
turning the black demon in his soul against its creator.

Strickland, terror in his eyes, tried to sprint away. Branan grabbed the chain in both hands and threw it outward as a loop. It settled over Strickland's head. The links of the chain bit into his throat. Branan jerked back with such force he lifted Strickland from his feet and slammed him into the ground. Branan quickly moved to stand directly behind Strickland. The muscles in his arms and chest stood out in sharp relief as he tightened the chain around Strickland's throat.

Strickland strangled and gasped, clawing futilely at the chain. His face turned red then purple as Branan tightened the chain even more. Strickland's efforts grew more frantic, his eyes bulged in his head and Branan drew the chain inexorably tighter. Strickland's eyes glazed, his gasping stopped and his body twitched violently then fell still.

Branan did not move, maintaining his
hold. Only after several heart
beats
,
did he let go of the chain and unwound it from the body.

Branan stood for a moment, his breath coming in ragged gasps
,
his entire body shaking. He cast around him looking for another enemy
,
but only a few of Strickland's men remained and they ran for their lives.

He droppmonnt>ed to his knees and picked up the claymore. The emerald in the pommel seemed to glitter with its own light.
Branan
closed his eyes and held the flat of the blade against his forehead.

Who am I?

All of the questions he had asked himself
,
rose within him. All of the
pain surged, pooling deep in Branan’s
being
. All of the rage, fear, and heartbreak gathered. Abruptly
,
it broke free
,
like the bursting of a damn. He was finally able to answer the question that had poisoned his soul.

“
I am the son of Raulf MacTavish,
”
Branan
whispered.
“
Laird of Clan MacTavish, Warden of Inglewood. I have reclaimed what is mine.
”
He paused and drew a deep breath.
“
Mother...
F
ather...I have avenged ye.
”