Page 57 of A Knight To Call My Own
“They are enjoying my hospitality in my dungeon. Leave now, and, if I feel gracious, I may release them, as long as you never step foot on MacGillivray land again. Or perchance, you would prefer to suffer the same fate as your laird. ’Tis your choice, of course, but be quick about making your decision. I will not show mercy to those who try to harm my people.”
One foolish enough to doubt Ian’s words, standing behind their new leader, bellowed out a battle cry in order to vindicate the death of their laird. He rushed forward swinging his blade whilst the rest of Calum’s men followed him at a run. Arrows began to fly from overhead, killing those in the front as they all pushed forward. Ian and Angus swung their claymores, even while Ian’s own men rushed from the gate to protect him. Swords clashed, but ’twas soon apparent Calum’s men were outnumbered. Those who had not fallen quickly regrouped at a safe distance away from the deadly arrows. There were not many of them left.
“Is there anyone else who would care to test my words and the strength of our arms?” Ian stood his ground and stared around at the few men left in front of him. “This is your last warning.” He finished his speech as he brought his bloody sword forward.
One man stepped to the fore, as if he might take Ian up on his challenge, but ’twas not to be. He peered at Ian with contempt and spit upon the ground as if to insult him. Common sense prevailed, and with a whistle, the Scotsman signaled the remaining men to retreat. Ian gave an order to send a small contingent of clansmen to escort their unwanted guests past the boundaries of his land.
He watched them go in silence afore taking in the carnage in front of him with a grimace. Gravely, he pondered how long ’twould be afore he himself would feel it safe enough to travel. He did not wish to worry of his own sorry hide being attacked afore he could once again begin searching for his captured wife. With Calum and Edric dead, he could only ponder who in the hell had his wife?
Chapter Thirty-One
Lynet began to rousewith the uncomfortable feeling of being suffocated. Whatever kind of conveyance she was being carried away in, ’twas not one made for comfort, as she was jostled and bounced about whenever the vehicle hit a rut in the uneven ground. The rough treatment of her already abused body did serve some purpose, as she found a slight amount of relief when she felt the confining restrictions of the material holding her give way. At the very least she was able to move a bit, however slightly.
She tried to remain still and not panic, for how was she to know her fate at the hands of the madman who abducted her from her very home. Vague images of his face swam within her memory, memories of seeing that very same face as he had killed poor Rolf. ’Twas obvious Lachlan was in cahoots with his brother and was just another determined man who was bent on having her dowry, despite it rightfully belonged to Ian. Was there anyone who was not chasing her for coinage and dowry left in England or Scotland? Surely, there were other ladies who were just as wealthy?
Since she could see nothing, she felt what she assumed was a cart beginning to slow. Lachlan’s voice was muffled, but she could faintly make out her abductor humming a strange tune afore he turned to cursing. He must have led the horse to water, for she could distinguish the sound as the horse drank its fill. She licked at her dry lips, only to come in contact with the material in front of her face. She had never been so parched in her life.
Silence descended, and Lynet began to attempt to squirm loose of the material holding her captive. She began to roll back and forth, and, after much effort, she was at last free to take in great gulps of fresh, clean air. Her head was throbbing, and she carefully lifted her hand to feel the bump on her forehead that surely must be the size of a bolder. She held back a sneeze from the dust that lingered in her hair and clung to her clothes from the tapestry that Lachlan had rolled her in. Not knowing his whereabouts, she was unsure how much time she had afore he returned from taking care of his personal business.
Carefully, she rose up to peek over the edge of the cart in order to obtain a glimpse of her surroundings. Panic struck her as she saw nothing but green landscape and determined the sun would soon set upon the earth. Clearly, she was no longer near the keep. She tried to steady her heart as she quickly attempted to formulate some kind of a plan. With her head fuzzy from being knocked unconscious, she was worried she would not be able to flee far.
But try, she would, and there was no time like the present. Lynet began to scoot her way to the edge of the cart, only to stand on wavering legs once her feet hit the ground. Though her stance was unstable, ’twas now or never if she were to attempt an escape.
With only one step forward, she found herself landing upon her hands and knees and almost planting her face into the dirt. ’Twould not be the first time such an occurrence happened, she thought, as she relived those disturbing memories at the hands of Calum, even whilst she made a fast attempt to collect her breath that had been knocked from her. Yet, ’twas not Lachlan’s doing, but her own inability to remain upright from her injury to her head.
Stumbling to her feet, she knew she must make haste whilst the opportunity presented itself. Although the water appeared to offer her what she needed most to quench her thirst, she decided the best course of action would be to run in the opposite direction. Run…if only her feet would cooperate with her need to flee from her captor. She mentally cursed when her bare foot encountered a stone beneath the foliage upon the ground. ’Twas the first time she realized her shoes were missing, but she could not linger on what other injuries she might incur by a bit of rocks. Nay! She must flee and put as much distance as she could between herself and Lachlan.
She had not gone far afore an ear splitting cry of outrage filled the air and echoed throughout the forest. Birds flew from the treetops. Lynet looked overhead as they took flight, and the noise from the flapping of their wings faded into the distance. Yet, there was no mistaking the man who was now trudging his way through the forest, as he made no attempt to lessen the amount of noise he was making in his attempt to find her.
Knowing her brief amount of freedom would soon be at an end, she hastily picked up a fallen branch and clasped it as if this meager bit of wood might save her from an enemy who would surely do his worst to her. Her heart raced as she frantically sought a place of refuge. But given her injury that was more of a hindrance than she cared to admit, she knew ’twas but a matter of moments afore she was once more captured.
Lynet snuck behind a tree, as if hiding behind the oak would make her invisible. The stick she held afore her, as though ’twere the mightiest of blades made of the hardest steel. As she scanned the woods in front of her, she felt sudden dread as his hand gripped her upper arm from behind. She should have known he would find her. Still, she swung her branch and had a brief moment of satisfaction as it made contact with the side of his head. ’Twas short lived as he wiped at the blood where the wood left a scratch from his temple all the way down to his chin. At least, she would live with the knowledge that he would have a scar the rest of his life as a reminder of her defiance, and that ’twould mar his otherwise handsome face.
“You vile, little bitch,” he grimaced as he took a piece of linen from his cloak to dab at his bleeding face. “Look what you have done to me.”
Lynet could not keep the smirk from her features, even if she had wanted to. “’Tis more than you deserve, sir. How dare you take me against my will and beneath the very noses of my people?”
“’Twill be a long time afore you see the place again. Calum will be busy with the taking of Urquhart, and afore my asinine brother can find me, we shall be far away, and I will claim your ransom as mine.”
“I am already spoken for, if you have forgotten. Besides, you have a funny way of showing your loyalty to those who you demand are your kin. Your brother may have something to say about your plans, since he is technically laird of the Davidson clan,” Lynet sneered, waving the branch in front of her for protection.
“Mybrother, could care less about his bastard sibling,” he spat, and Lynet realized the sibling rivalry went far deeper than just sparring brothers.
Lachlan looked her up and down, as though assessing her ability to remain upright. Considering how she swayed, she saw in his eyes what she herself did not wish to admit. She would not remain standing for long. Her brief respite of freedom was already taking its toll upon her.
He came towards her with his sword raised. Thinking he was bent on killing her, she swung the limb, only to have him easily knock the branch from her hand and send it sailing off into the distance. She rubbed at her fingers, numb from the impact of his sword against the wood. He grabbed her and forced her up against his body. A gasp escaped her lips, and she wedged her hands between Lachlan and herself to push against his chest and force as much distance between them as possible. He laughed. She frowned and watched as his eyes became even darker, in sharp contrast to the fairness of his hair.
He spun her around and gave her a push in the general direction from where she had come. Afore she once more stumbled to the ground, he took hold of her arm to hasten their return to the water’s edge. In dismay, she came to the realization she, in truth, had not traveled that great a distance from where they had stopped.
“You best drink, if you are thirsty,” he jeered, still wiping at the blood upon his once handsome face, “and leave your comments to yourself in regards to my brother.”
Cupping her hands, she dipped them into the cool water and greedily brought a mouthful to her parched lips. The liquid slid down her throat like the sweetest nectar. “Calum is still laird, and I am still wed,” she mentioned again whilst dabbing the hem of her gown into the water so she could clean her face.
“Not for long,” Lachlan said as he went to the cart and came to stand afore her with a length of rope.
“What mean you by that?” she asked, almost afraid to hear his answer.
“It means that soon you will not have to worry about being a part of the MacGillivray clan, my lady. I plan to take you back to Berwyck where I will receive a fair amount of monies for your return.”
