Page 80 of The Highlander's Illicit Bride
“Are ye all right?” Struan asked.
“Aye. I’m fine more or less,” he said. “How did ye find me?”
“Ye can thank yer sister-in-law,” Struan said with a grin. “She’s the one who told me how tae get in here.”
“Sister-in-law?”
Struan smiled. “Aye. ‘Tis much fer me tae tell ye. And I will. But we need tae get out of here first. So, come on.”
They ran back through the passageway and out into the forest. The sound of battle still echoed around the woods. Careful to keep Finlay in his sight, they picked their way back through the trees to where the battle was being fought. Torchlight lit the battleground in front of them and Struan watched for a moment as Dougal’s men clashed with his own, the desire to wade in and begin cutting the men responsible for Finlay’s ill treatment strong.
But he’d gotten what they had come for. Struan whistled for his men, the sound echoing around the battlefield. Ewan heard him and turned towards where he was now standing with Finlay. His men broke off their attack and fled into the darkness.
Dougal’s men, believing they’d carried the day, cheered raucously as Struan’s men retreated, none of them knowing yet that their laird lay dead in the dark cells.
“Come,” Struan said, clapping his brother on the shoulder. “Let’s go home.”
“Aye. Home. That sounds good,” Finaly said with a smile. “And ye can tell me all about this new bride of yers, eh?”
Struan and Finlay met Ewan back at the rally point and after exchanging hugs and greetings with everybody there, they mounted up and got on the road back to Achnacarry. They had not gone far though, when a pair of riders, men from his castle, met them on the road.
“Me laird,” said the first man, breathing hard. “Murdoch Mackintosh raided the castle. He killed some of our men.”
Struan drew in a sharp breath and bit his tongue.
“He took Lady Isolde, me laird,” he said. “She was taken from yer chambers and thrown on a horse.”
Struan’s heart dropped into his stomach and a cold, black rage filled him from head to toe as he imagined her fear at being dragged back to the one place she never wanted to return.
“We’re goin’ tae Moy, lads,” he said, his voice tight.
CHAPTER 36
“I’ll go in with ye,” Finlay said.
Struan shook his head. “Ye’re nae strong enough right now, Braither.” he said. “Ye’ll stay out here with Ewan and our men. Lay siege tae Moy. Keep them focused on the fight in front of them. I’m goin’ tae slip in through the back door and find me wife.”
“Struan—”
He shook his head. “Murdoch daesnae ken Dougal is dead yet. He still thinks he’s got the upper hand. ‘Tis thae only advantage we have right now.”
“I agree,” Ewan said. “I dinnae like it, but I agree.”
“’Tis settled then,” Struan said with a nod.
Struan made his way through the woods and while his men created a distraction, he slipped unnoticed through the back door which as he prayed lead to the kitchen. Wasting no time, he snuck into the corridor but a sound made him hide in a supply room filled with grains.
He paused, his body tightening as he heard the sound of heavy boots running past the room in the corridor beyond. Struan crept to the door and listened for a moment. Satisfied the hall was empty, he opened the door and slipped out. Sword in hand, he moved swiftly but quietly through the corridors of the castle. The sound of men screaming to one another as they battled sounded distant. But he knew he did not have much time.
Struan searched every room he encountered, growing frustrated that he could not find Isolde. He knew Murdoch would not kill his daughter. Not when she’d been promised to Dougal and Murdoch needed the alliance.
It was only a matter of time before one of Dougal’s men arrived with the news, so Struan gritted his teeth and redoubled his efforts. He turned a corner and found himself in a long, narrow corridor. A rounded wooden door sat at the far end. Thinking it could be the door that led down to the dungeons, he ran.
Pushing through the door with his sword raised, he was surprised to find himself not at the head of the stairs that led down, but in a library.
“Struan Cameron,” Murdoch Mackintosh said, sitting in one of the chairs, crystal glass of wine in hand. “What a pleasure taesee ye again. Have ye come back tae enjoy a bit more of me hospitality, lad?” The man’s smile was slow and wide, and his eyes glittered menacingly in the firelight.
“I’ve come tae claim what’s mine,” he replied coldly.
