My Notorious Highlander (Highland Adventure 5) (17 page)

Annoyance twisted through Haldane. "
Wee
brother, you don't have the stones to be chief. Dirk is an imposter. And Jessie is a woman. I'm the only one left."

Aiden shook his head, his thin sandy hair blowing in the mountain breeze. "Are you still lying to yourself about Dirk? He is
Da's
oldest son. I remember him very clearly from before he disappeared."

"Nay." Haldane knew good and well Dirk was who he claimed to be, but he loved keeping up the pretense as his ma had always done. Besides, Dirk didn't deserve acknowledgement as a MacKay. "Dirk has to die. He murdered our mother, Aiden! Don't you remember?"

"He didn't murder her. He killed her in self-defense."

"Ha. That mountain of a man felt the need to kill our scrawny old mother in self-defense?"

"She poisoned Isobel and me and almost killed us both!"

"Not intentionally, not in your case anyway."

"Ma tried to have Dirk murdered several times. Don't you remember, she hired McMurdo to shove him off a cliff thirteen years ago?"

Haldane smirked and glanced aside at McMurdo. The man with the long gray hair and scarred, wrinkled face narrowed his black eyes, his menacing gaze moving back and forth between him and Aiden.
'Twas
a sore point with him that he hadn't succeeded in a job he'd been paid a thousand pounds to accomplish.

"And 'tis a job he is determined to finish, aye, McMurdo?" Haldane asked.

He gave a brief nod and continued sharpening his sword.

"Nay," Aiden said, his eyes widening. "You're getting McMurdo to kill Dirk?"

"Of course. He's the best man for the job."

Studying Haldane, Aiden shook his head. "You've become just like Ma."

"If you mean canny and brilliant, aye." Haldane smiled. "I'm glad you came to visit me. Now, I can convince Erskine and the guards to open the gates."

"Wrong. They won't do it."

"Then you'll die, too, along with Dirk and anyone else who gets in my way."

"What happened to you, brother? You didn't used to be like this."

"I came to my senses. That's what." Fury rampaged through Haldane's veins. "If you'd had the gall to stand up and be chief as Ma wanted, I wouldn't have been forced to do this. I supported you. I would've helped you. But, nay. You wished to give it all up to Dirk."

"Dirk is the best chief this clan could possibly have. I'm not suited to it and neither are you."

"I'll be as great a chief as Da was."

"You are mad."

"Indeed!" Haldane grinned. "Madness suits me, does it not, McMurdo?"

He nodded.

Fear lit in Aiden's eyes when he watched McMurdo. Haldane was glad. He knew Aiden didn't fear him. But he should. He didn't want to kill Aiden, but if he was all that stood between Haldane and the chiefdom, he would do it.

In the meantime, he would use him to get inside the gates of Dunnakeil. No way in hell would Erskine, Jessie, and the rest of them allow Aiden to be killed.

"You should give it up, Haldane. You'll never succeed at this."

"There's where you're wrong, wee brother."

"You'll get yourself killed. If you want to live, you should go south and stay there."

Haldane gave a bitter laugh. "I've been south. Dunnakeil is my home and I mean to claim it, no matter the cost."

"
'Tis
not worth your life."

"Don't worry over me. I'm a big lad now. I can take care of myself." He placed his hand upon Aiden's bony shoulder and guided him toward the fire-pit. The roasted rabbits appeared to be almost done. "Come. Let's break our fast. We have a mission at gloaming."

"What mission?"

Haldane smiled. "You're going to get us into Dunnakeil."

"Glad I found you," Torrin told Jessie in an upstairs corridor. "We've looked for Aiden in the stables, the smithy, all the outbuildings and the kirk. No sign of him. The search party is ready to head out."

"I've searched the entire castle for him again, all the places he practices his music," she said, her throat tightening at the thought her wee brother could already be hurt or dead. "
'Twas
clear to me last night he wanted to talk to Haldane. They've been close their whole lives, and Aiden naively believes his brother wouldn't hurt him. And it could be that he fears Haldane will be killed before he can see him or talk to him again."

Torrin nodded. "I can understand that. I wish I could've talked to Nolan again one last time. It hurts to lose a brother to a life of crime."

"Indeed, it does."

He took her hand and kissed the back. "Don't you worry. We'll find Aiden."

"I'm going with you." Jessie said.

"Nay." Torrin frowned. "If you go, I'll have to protect you instead of searching for Aiden or fighting Haldane."

He was right. Though she knew how to use a dirk, she wasn't a warrior, and she would only be a liability. "Very well. I thank you for putting your own life in danger to help Aiden."

"If what Haldane said is true, I no longer have a little brother. If I can help save the life of yours, I'll be glad."

Tears stung her eyes. "You're very generous."

He shook his head. "Just doing what is right." After glancing behind himself, Torrin stepped closer, slipped his fingers around her nape, beneath her hair, and kissed her lips.
'Twas
a fierce, passionate kiss, but over too quickly.

He stepped back. "We'll return soon."

A bit unsteady on her feet, she braced against the wall and noticed a man's loud voice yelling
MacLeod
from the great hall.

"Have a care," she said.

"I intend to." He gave a lighthearted smile, stroked his fingers along her cheek and kissed her forehead. Then he disappeared down the steps.

She ran further along the corridor and watched out the window as Torrin joined the other men in the courtyard and mounted his horse.

"May God protect him," she whispered, tears in her eyes.
And please let him find Aiden alive and well.

Though she could scarcely believe it, those were the two men she cared most about in this world… them and Dirk.
'Twas
obvious she would care about her brothers… but Torrin? She had never imagined. Sometimes when she relived what they'd indulged in yesterday and last night, she was shocked at herself.

Aye, shocked, but she didn't regret it. Like her father, she had always believed in living life to the fullest when the opportunity arose. But that had left her emotionally bruised and battered. If she didn't fall in love with Torrin, she wouldn't be hurt when he deserted her. But simply imagining that made her chest ache and her throat close.

"Nay," she whispered.
I have not fallen in love with him.

Have I?
Tears filled her eyes.

***

Torrin rode beside Erskine, Dirk's sword-bearer. His position was that of a war-leader, and from what Torrin could tell, the man was highly skilled.
Torrin's
two bodyguards followed, the only two of his men he hadn't sent on errands. He hoped the others returned soon. Iain rode farther back with the four Stewart men. Twelve MacKay guards and clansmen also accompanied them, including Conall and two of his brawny sons,
Dougal
and Little Conall. But, truth be told, Little Conall was larger than Big Conall.

First, they visited the old byre where Torrin and Jessie had been held.
'Twas
empty. Next, they searched
Smoo
Cave. Also abandoned, but they found an eight-oar
bìrlinn
on the beach there. Obviously, this had been Haldane's landing point. Two of the
MacKays
used their axes to chop holes in the boat so the brigands couldn't escape so easily.

"McMurdo is known to have some well-concealed hiding places," Erskine said. "
'Tis
why he has escaped capture all these years. My father and the former chief often searched for the highwayman. He's as wily as a fox."

Torrin nodded. He'd heard tales of the elusive and murderous McMurdo all his life and knew better than to underestimate him.

The clan tracker, Silas MacKay, a tall, lanky fellow with a receding hairline, rode in front as they left the coast and headed inland. Beyond the byre, Silas veered off the trail onto the moor, got off his horse and examined the grass and other plants. "Looks like they might have gone this way," he called back to Erskine and Torrin.

They all followed him as he walked, leading his horse so as to see the ground and plants better, looking for signs of disturbance. An hour later, they neared larger rocks and crags leading into the mountains, the large expanse of gray broken only by patches of green heather.

"We must be ready. They could be hiding behind any of these boulders," Erskine warned.

"Indeed." Torrin crept forward with them, all the men armed with swords,
targes
and dirks, though Torrin did not have his own sword; the outlaws had stolen it the day before. Three MacKay archers also accompanied them. Those on horseback dismounted.

The further they advanced into the mountains, the more the path turned to gravel and scree which had eroded off the mountains for millennia.
'Twas
impossible to see tracks now, but only one trail existed through this area with the steep mountains on both sides.

Fully aware their horses could be injured, killed, or stolen by the outlaws, they left the beasts with five men and continued on foot. '
Twould
be too simple for a horse to break a leg amongst these unstable rocks.

Going by foot also allowed them to creep more quietly along the rough stony path. Torrin hoped they could slip up on the outlaws and catch them unawares. Most of all, he prayed Aiden was unharmed. He didn't know the lad well, but he was Jessie's beloved brother. Daft though he may be for leaving the keep to talk to Haldane. He should've known better, but Torrin could also understand the need to try to talk some sense into his law-breaking younger brother. Torrin wished he could've convinced his own younger brother to change his depraved ways before it was too late.

No use wishing for things he could never have now. A heavy sense of loss kicked him in the stomach and memories of their younger years haunted him.

Damnation! Don't think of it.

The one thing he was determined to have now was Jessie. He simply had to convince her of his worth and devotion.

A scent caught his attention—smoke and roasted meat. He halted, holding up his arm so those behind him would stop. "Smell that?" he asked, his voice hushed. "Their camp is close."

"Aye," Erskine whispered.

Sudden loud clanging and war cries resounded through the rocky crags. A rag-tag group of warriors wielding swords and
targes
stormed from behind boulders. But Torrin was ready, and the men who stood with him appeared ready as well. Blade clashed against blade.

Arrows flew down from the cliffs above. Torrin lifted his
targe
to deflect them. A skinny, blond-bearded man wearing ragged
trews
charged Torrin. He easily warded off the younger man's blows. The miscreant bared his teeth and launched a more determined attack. After landing a few blows against
Torrin's
blade, the man had worn himself out.

Torrin went on the offense. With two strikes, he drew blood, and with the third, dealt a killing slash. The daft lad had chosen the wrong opponent.

The next man to meet his gaze was McMurdo. A quick glance at the warrior lying unmoving and bloody at his feet stopped
Torrin's
breath.
Erskine?
Torrin charged forward, intending to run McMurdo through, but the gray-haired bastard fled with uncanny agility up the rock-covered ravine along with the rest of the surviving outlaws after Haldane had shouted the order to retreat.

"Get him! He's killed Erskine," Torrin yelled at the
MacKays
and chased McMurdo up the mountainside. The smoking campfire came into view, along with Aiden, sitting at the entrance to a cave, a brawny man with a sword guarding him.

"Bring him!" Haldane pointed at Aiden.

The guard picked up the lad, tossed him across his shoulder and ran.

"Bastard," Torrin growled.

Aiden wriggled and fought his captor, but it did no good. The man weighed twice as much as the lad.

Arrows rained down on Torrin and the
MacKays
, forcing them to use their
targes
for protection overhead and dive for cover behind boulders; their
targes
could not shield the whole of their bodies. Once the outlaw archer had stopped shooting, Torrin charged forward again.

"They're getting away!" Torrin sped up but the outlaws were twenty yards ahead. "Give me your bow and an arrow," Torrin ordered the young MacKay archer.

The bow was about the length of his own. Torrin threw down his other weapons, took the bow in hand and nocked the arrow. He aimed, praying he wouldn't shoot Aiden, but if he didn't get that whoreson to release him, he'd likely be dead soon anyway. When the outlaw turned a bit, his side facing Torrin, he released the arrow. The broad-head stabbed into the outlaw's ribs and he fell to his knees. Aiden slammed to the ground as well, but tried to scramble from beneath the injured brigand who was yanking at the arrow and growling like an enraged wolf.

The rest of the outlaws dashed out of sight, but the one he'd downed grabbed for the sword he'd dropped.

Aiden stumbled and fell amongst the rocks.

"Aiden! Come on!" Torrin tossed the bow back to its owner, grabbed his sword, and sprinted forward to help the lad.

Aiden shoved to his feet and loped toward him, while the injured outlaw lumbered forward, growling, his teeth bared.

Another arrow stabbed into the knave's chest. He dropped like a rock and writhed upon the ground, howling in pain.

Torrin quickly glanced back to see that the MacKay archer had fired the shot.

Reaching Aiden, Torrin grabbed his arm. "Hurry. We have to get you out of here."

Aiden was gasping for breath as he stumbled forward. Torrin glanced around, checking for lingering outlaws, but thankfully saw none.

"Help him down the mountain," he told the
MacKays
.

"Come on, cousin. I've got you."
Conall's
burly son,
Dougal
, picked Aiden up on his back and carried him. "Are you hurt?"

"Nay." Aiden huffed and puffed. "I thank you. All of you."

Torrin retrieved his
targe
and dirk from the ground, where he'd tossed them earlier, and followed.

Minutes later, Aiden insisted on walking, and they rejoined the rest of the search party.

"Aiden!" Conall yelled, his face red. "Are you daft? Leaving the keep that way? You could've been killed. Erskine's badly injured."

"He lives?" Torrin asked, his gaze scanning over Erskine's bloody, unmoving body and closed eyes.

Iain, crouched next to Erskine, glanced up. "Aye, indeed."

"Thank the saints! How bad is it?"

"
'Tis
a deep sword gash. He's lost a lot of blood."

"Bastards," Torrin growled. "We have to get him back to Dunnakeil." He wanted to tell Aiden he should be whipped for putting himself and the clan in so much danger. But he was the chief's brother.
'Twas
Dirk's place to reprimand him. Or Jessie's. He was certain she would rake Aiden over the coals.