Warrior’s Redemption (22 page)

“As well I should have, dinna you think? You’ve
been gone long, my brother. I’ll be twenty come Yule.”

How negligent he’d been to leave her under Torquil’s dominion for so long.

“I’m here now. I’ve come to take you away.” As he should have done long ago.

“You shouldn’t have come at all. You had to ken it would no be safe for you here. No with Father gone.”

“It is what it is.” Malcolm caught his breath, waiting as another pain lanced through his chest. Thank Freya, they seemed to be growing weaker at last. “I’m here to rescue you.”

The corners of his sister’s lips twitched and for a moment he wasn’t sure if she were going to smile or cry.

“Aye, well, yer rescue seems to have run into a bit of trouble, from the looks of it. If we can but convince our brother to set you free, you must leave at once and never return, are you clear on that?”

He shook his head stubbornly, ignoring the wave of dizziness it caused. “You need to be away from this place, little sister. You need to be rescued.”

“That I do, Colm. And I will be in time. But no by you. You must believe me in this. I’ve seen it.” She snapped her head toward the door and then turned back, leaning in close to him. “Trust me on this, beloved brother.”

His pride stung that his sister should feel the need to protect him with stories designed to send him scurrying away to his own safety. But there was no time for argument. Before he could respond, the door swung open wide, admitting Torquil, flanked by two men on either side.

“What a touching scene we interrupt,” Torquil sneered. “A family reunion, is it? And you dinna think to invite me?”

Christiana turned to face her elder brother, lifting her chin as she did so. “I heard whispers from the servants that Colm had returned. That he’d returned as a prisoner in our own dungeons. I had need to see his condition for myself.”

His sister was a MacDowylt through and through, brave beyond all good sense.

“And now that you’ve seen for yerself, go back to yer chambers, Christiana. Unless you fancy keeping Malcolm company on a more permanent basis.” Torquil lifted a hand, motioning toward the wall. “We’ve chains and irons aplenty if that’s yer wish.”

“You must send him away, Torquil. Free him and send him away at once.”

“You’ve seen this?” he asked, edging closer to her.

Malcolm recognized the hesitation on her face, as he was sure Torquil did. Christiana’s gift allowed her glimpses of what was to come, but the knowledge came with a price. She could not utter a falsehood about what she had seen. Torquil knew that as well as he did.

“No,” she answered on a sigh. “I have not seen this. But I believe it to be so.”

Torquil chuckled, looking from one sibling to the other. “Your blind loyalty is admirable, Christiana. Too bad you give it to the wrong brother.” He snapped his fingers and held one hand aloft. “Take her to her chambers and see that she remains there.”

One of the guards stepped up to Christiana’s side and, with a nod, followed her to the door, where she paused.

“Odin’s blessing be upon you for a safe trip home, Malcolm,” she called over her shoulder, before resuming her sedate pace through the door and up the stairs beyond.

When the door closed, Torquil began to pace back and forth, arms clasped behind him. Once, twice, three times he passed before he came to a stop in front of Malcolm.

“Return home? That, I can assure you, will take more than Odin’s blessings to accomplish. Did you take me for a fool? Did you think I’d no realize you were here? That you walked upon my land?” He shook his head as if sorely disappointed. “I expected better from so great a warrior as you claim yerself to be.”

“I seem to have grown careless in my ways.”

Though how Torquil had known was another matter. The Mark of Protection prevented his brother from sensing Malcolm’s presence, so there had to have been another means of discovery.

“Indeed, you have.” Torquil nodded his head in agreement. “Too long spent in the easy life, playing
laird of my new holdings. Well, we’ll have to see if we can’t change that. Ulfr, come! You remember Ulfr, don’t you? He’s captain of my personal guard now.”

Torquil motioned toward Malcolm, and Ulfr approached, a large key dangling from his hand. The enormous guardsman, who had long been a favorite of Torquil’s, jerked at the chains above Malcolm’s head, sending a new fire of agony shooting through his wrists and arms.

Malcolm clenched his teeth, determined his captors would see no sign of his pain.

Even as the chains rattled to a noisy pile on the floor, another noise drew Malcolm’s attention. A scraping of wood against stone in the corner of the room.

It took all the willpower at his command not to fight against what he knew was to come as two of Torquil’s men dragged him across the room. Fighting now, with his strength not yet restored, would do him more harm than good.

His mind raced to come up with something—anything—that might keep him out of the death hole. But while escape from such a place was beyond unlikely, ending up down there with fresh wounds could only serve to hasten his demise.

He’d need to bide his time. Build his strength. Pray for an opportunity.

“You surprise me, Torquil. I dinna think even you
would stoop to so low as to toss yer own brother into the oubliette.”

“And what a great pleasure it is to be able to surprise you yet.”

The stench wafting up out of the hole was itself enough to gag a man. When he turned to face Torquil, his brother had already pulled a cloth from his pocket to cover his nose.

“There, there, little brother. Think on the advantages I am about to afford you. No luxuries here. Perhaps you’ll regain that sharp edge you used to value so much.” Behind the cloth he chuckled. “That or you’ll rot.”

Malcolm had only a second to prepare himself before the men on either side shoved against him and he pitched over the edge of the opening into the black hell below. He landed hard, knocking the air from his lungs as his shoulder took the brunt of the fall onto the slimy, straw-covered stones.

With an effort, he rolled to his back, staring up through the hole above him.

As if he’d already dismissed Malcolm from his mind, Torquil had turned his back.

“Have Dermid brought to my chambers. I would speak with him now.”

The words echoed down to Malcolm seconds before the heavy wooden covering was replaced over the opening to the oubliette.

They’d found Dermid!

That explained why seeing his things in the room above had felt wrong. He’d left them behind at the campsite when he’d set out for the castle. Obviously, when they’d captured Dermid, they’d gathered up everything at the site.

Malcolm dragged himself to the wall and leaned his weight against it. His priority had to be regaining his strength if he was to have any chance at escape.

And escape was no longer just an option, but an imperative now, because the lives of both his sister and his brother hung in the balance.

W
HAT DID IT
mean when a Faerie wouldn’t look you in the eye?

Dani doubted it could be anything good.

“Very little is known about Dream Mating. Not just because it’s so rare, but also because when it does occur our people view it as an intensely personal and private event.”

In spite of the cold, Elesyria had assured her a walk in the gardens would do her good. She claimed it had been one of her favorite pastimes when she’d lived at Castle MacGahan as a new bride.

For Dani it simply felt depressing to wander among the rows of dead plants. And if there was anything she didn’t need right now, it was another way to depress herself. She was doing just fine in that regard all on her own.

“I can see how that would be the case.” She certainly had no intention of sharing all the particulars of her experience. “But what do you think it means that for the past week I haven’t been able to see Malcolm at all in my dreams? It’s as if a door has been slammed in my face each time I close my eyes.” As if he didn’t even exist. A big black door. Or
maybe a curtain. Or a shroud. “You’ve got to have at least a guess. Please, Elesyria. I need your honesty. I’m making myself sick imagining all sorts of horrible things.”

They’d reached a bench at the far end of the garden and Elesyria sat, patting the spot beside her in invitation to Dani.

“As long as you understand this is pure speculation on my part.” The Faerie’s lips pursed as if she carefully considered the words she would say. “I can think of only two reasons. The first is very likely the one you’ve already considered yourself. That something has happened to Malcolm.”

Yep. That was the big one that haunted her thoughts every single moment of the day.

“And the other?”

If there was any hope at all to hang onto, she was desperate for it.

“Perhaps Malcolm himself has shut that door. Perhaps he has reason not to want you wherever he is right now.”

Not want her with him? But why would he—

“Lady Danielle!” Jeanne, the kitchen maid, scrambled through the brambles of dead plants, not taking the time to stay to the paths. “I’ve been searching everywhere for you.” She held a hand to her chest, panting as if she’d been running.

“And now you’ve found her,” Elesyria pointed out. “What is it you want, girl?”

“Laird Malcolm’s brother has returned. Him and
his man both. I saw them enter into the bailey with my own eyes and I began my search for you.”

“Malcolm?” Dani asked, knowing what the answer would be even before the girl shook her head.

“No, my lady. Just his brother and the man who rides with him.”

“Where did you see them last?” Elesyria asked.

“Mounting the stairs to the keep.”

Dani didn’t wait to see what else Jeanne might have to say or even to see if Elesyria followed. She was on her feet and running. Since the men would most likely report in to Patrick before anything else, that was where she was headed, too.

The news the kitchen maid carried weighed heavily on her heart.

Dermid had returned to Castle MacGahan. Dermid and his man Rauf.

Without Malcolm.

There could be any number of explanations for that, she reasoned, forcing herself to slow the pace that already drew stares from those she passed.

Rauf had disappeared the same day they’d discovered Dermid missing. Perhaps the groomsman had simply hunted down his charge and returned him here. Perhaps they’d never even caught up with Malcolm.

Perhaps they carried news that Malcolm was dead.

Dani lifted her skirts and ran. To hell with what people thought. Right now she only cared about locating Patrick and finding out what had actually happened.

She’d be no trouble at all. Just discreetly slip into
the room and wait quietly to observe what Dermid had to say.

Out of breath, she rounded the corner and skidded to a stop outside the laird’s solar. She debated only a second before fisting her hand to knock upon the closed door.

“Dani! Wait!”

Ignoring Elesyria’s call from farther down the hallway, she pounded once and then again before throwing her weight against the door, her plans for discretion completely forgotten.

Elesyria reached her side just as the door opened and she pitched forward, stumbling into Patrick’s broad chest.

“And why am I not surprised to find the two of you here?” he asked, his hands at Dani’s elbows to steady her.

“Where’s Malcolm?” she demanded over his shoulder when she caught sight of Dermid and Rauf. “What’s happened to him?”

“I dinna suppose you’d be willing to wait in yer chambers and leave this to me to handle?” Patrick looked from Dani to Elesyria and back again. “No. I dinna think so. Then I’ll thank you to have a seat and be quiet while I get to the bottom of what my brother has to tell me.”

Patrick held on to her elbow as he walked her over to a chair at the side of the room and she sat. Elesyria took the seat next to hers, catching up her hand to hold once she was seated, too.

“My apologies for the interruption,” Patrick began
with an annoyed look in her direction. “Perhaps you’d begin again at the beginning for the benefit of our . . . guests.”

“Torquil demands twice the silver he originally required. One portion for homage to yer rightful laird and one portion to secure Malcolm’s release.”

Dani straightened in her chair.
Malcolm’s release?
Then he lived? He lived!

“Ransom, you mean,” Patrick interpreted.

Dermid shrugged. “I only deliver Torquil’s words as they were passed to me. Yer to pay and I’m to return with the silver. He says to tell you that if you attempt to follow, Malcolm’s blood will be on yer hands.”

Patrick sank into a chair at the table, his finger tapping out a tattoo in the momentary silence.

“You’ve a hard journey behind you, Dermid. I’ll have food sent to yer chamber for you. You’ll need yer rest to recover yer strength.”

“As you say, brother. A hard journey behind and another ahead.” With a nod first to Patrick and then one in Dani’s general direction, Dermid left, Rauf at his heels as always.

Dani had restrained herself as long as she could. “What are you going to do?”

Patrick shook his head, his finger still tapping. “I canna say as yet, though I’m no at all pleased with the idea of sending Dermid back into the enemy’s nest. And I’ve little doubt that Malcolm would agree with me on that count.”

No, Malcolm likely wouldn’t approve of sending
Dermid back, either. But she didn’t approve of leaving Malcolm to whatever it was that he didn’t want her to see behind that black door.

“Then why don’t you go ahead with your original plan. Lead the army you intended to use to save Christiana and free them both.”

Yes, it would mean Malcolm would be indebted to the MacKilyn, but she would rather lose Malcolm to another woman a million times over than have him killed.

Again Patrick shook his head. “We might well have had a chance before. But Torquil is aware of our intent now and will likely expect that of me. He’ll no be caught off guard to an army’s approach as long as he holds Colm. I’ll have to devise another plan, though at the moment, I’m at a loss as to how to get enough armed men in there to make a difference.”