Highlander's Kiss Page 2

  Hours passed and Elyn felt a bit better. With a slight buzz of exhaustion gripping her, she closed the book and placed it back on the shelf. The sun was low in the sky, and a milky orange light washed over the chamber. The coloring of the glass gave it a strange tint. Elyn’s stomach grumbled a bit and she thought of sneaking down to the hall to grab something to eat.

  She pushed herself away from the desk and looked to the door. No. That wouldn’t do. She didn’t want to deal with anyone, even if it meant giving up food for a night.

  Elyn slipped under the covers and curled up. She felt foolish for not fighting harder to join Gavin out on the highlands, but after the skirmish with the Maxwell men, Gavin had been unenthusiastic to take her out to practice any of her fighting skills. She knew she wasn’t the greatest warrior, but she was likely stronger than a lot of the whelps that he brought with him on hunting expeditions.

  Night would come soon enough, and maybe she could sneak out of the castle then and go back to her parents’ old cottage. Something familiar and comfortable. She hadn’t seen it since the raid on the castle, after all. The cool air of the highlands might do her some good.

  ***

  Elyn stirred with surprise. She didn’t remember falling asleep, but the black sky outside the balcony windows was enough to convince her. Her heart raced with worry. Something didn’t feel right. A grave feeling of unease was stuck in her chest like an uninvited guest.

  She threw the sheets off herself and leapt from the bed. It was time to get some fresh air. She dressed warmly, admiring the furs as she latched and tightened the sinew against her body. She was surprised: she had put on some weight since arriving at Eilean Donan, but it was welcome weight. She was used to feeling her body being a bit thinner and more frail.

  She eased the chamber door open and peered into the hallway. No one was around to catch her up in a conversation. The sconces flickered quietly against the stonework, illuminating the hallway in patches in both directions. Despite her life growing up, she'd never felt so paranoid before, she could only think it was the unexpected sleep that disturbed her.

  Elyn’s cheeks still felt puffy. She moved silently down the hall and made her way to the entrance. She kept a chuckle to herself as her heart raced seeing the guards posted outside the entry. She recalled the escape from Castle Iverlochy, and how tight her throat felt convincing the guards into letting her and Gavin pass.

  She bowed her head and quickly moved between the two men. They were daydreaming and paid no attention to the robed woman pacing out of the castle and into the village square. She silently thanked the Lord they didn’t interrogate her on how she was feeling.

  The streets were empty. Only a couple of villagers and merchants were loitering about, chatting quietly or laughing all too loud. She hurried to the bridge that separated Eilean Donan from the highlands, wanting to feel the cool wind scoop her emotions out of the mud.

  Finally free of the castle walls, she started hiking across the bridge. but her unease didn't fade. She glanced over her shoulder at the castle, trying to see if there were any eyes staring at her as she departed.

  As she finished crossing the bridge, the cool and wet scent of the highlands finally tickled her nose. She smiled as a gust of wind blew hard against her furs, pulling the scent across her exposed skin and disappearing in the distance.

  Then, a pair of strong arms wrapped themselves around her and clasped her tight. Before she could react, a bag went over her head and she was thrown into the air.

  She tried to scream, but her voice cracked as she was hauled and thrown into a cart. Her shoulder slammed into the hard wood with a shocking force that knocked her head. She groaned loudly as she heard someone scramble to climb inside, and a whip crack that was followed by the lurch of the carriage as it moved away from the castle.

  Elyn’s heart raced and panic overwhelmed her. She kicked and struggled to move, but a man’s voice sounded out harsh in her ear.

  “Shut yer mouth or I’ll give ye a reason ta cry out!” He slammed his hand down on her and held her against the floor, keeping her from struggling. She tried to thrash even more violently, hoping she could at least knock the bag off her head and see who her captors were. The man growled in frustration and punched her in the stomach, making her wheeze with excruciating pain.

  “That’s betta', now hold still ye little wench,” the man said. He dragged a rope against her body and bound her arms and feet before she could catch her breath. She felt groggy and exhausted, feeling the same sense of dread fill her as the cart moved further and further from Eilean Donan.

  “Where are ye takin’ me! Donae ye know who I am?” Elyn struggled again, fighting her binds in waves of energy. The man chuckled and spoke to the driver.

  “Ye hear this? This wench thinks we made a mistake!”

  The driver chuckled, his voice just as gruff as the other. It was hard for Elyn to tell them apart.

  “You’re the useless, suckling babe of the MacDonalds, and we’re here to save you, yer highness.” The man’s voice was venomous and without a hint of concern. He continued. “Elyn MacDonald, the King is going to be happy about this.”

  “The King?” Elyn said, not even attempting to hide the shock in her voice. “What does he want with me?”

  “Just ye cooperation. I’m sure he’ll get it after dispatching Gavin, at any rate.”

  Elyn’s heart sank like a stone through a loch. “Gavin?”

  “Aye. Gavin MacKenzie. Your Laird.”

  “What have ye done with him!” Elyn struggled to sit up. Her eyes burned through the burlap sack, she desperately wished she could pull it off. It was too dark to see through the stitches, and she could only make out the vague outline of the man who was harassing her.

  The man laughed again, slapping his leg just as a rock bounced the carriage. Elyn stumbled over and fell on her face. The man ignored her. “Donae worry ye pretty little head...” the man said. He softened his voice and touched Elyn’s back. “I can see what the man sees in ya.”

  Elyn rolled over and forced his hand off of her. “Donae touch me or Gavin’ll make sure ye regret it.”

  “Shut up, I’m already tired of hearing ye yammer.” The man kicked the wind out of her and she buckled over in pain. “Think on that next time ye threaten me.” The man stood up and climbed through the front of the cart, joining the driver on the outside.

  Elyn squeezed her eyes shut to fight back the tears. She felt them drip off her face and land on the sack anyway. She breathed quietly and slowly regained her composure. The rumble of the cart’s wheels was monotonous and familiar. She knew they’d pass Dornie soon enough and then she’d be out of luck.

  The smell of the highlands was trapped in the sack. She tried to savor them, but felt foolish for leaving the safety of the castle. Is this what Gavin meant when he said she’d be safer? So much for that.

  She sighed to herself and tried to stay still. She didn’t want the men getting any ideas. She would roll out of the cart if she had to, but it wasn’t any use if she couldn’t even stand. Elyn heard the two men talking to each other, but they kept their voices low. It was impossible to decipher them over the rumble of the wheels.

  She groaned and shut her eyes. Hopefully sleep would come, and she’d wake up to realize it was all a dream after all. Gavin would be back with her, his arms holding her tight as she told him every horrific detail.

  But she knew the truth. It wasn’t a dream at all. Worse yet, she didn’t know when the nightmare would end.

  Chapter 3: Gavin

  The men rode throughout the day and set up camp that night. The small group had prepared for the trek across the highlands, and their food supplies were filling and satisfying.

  As Gavin finished up his seared fish, Barron sat down in the grass next to him. Their campfire’s embers pulsated, almost inviting Gavin to sleep. His eyes adjusted to the darkness and he turned to Barron.

  Gavin sighed heavily. “I canae believe we have to do this...
I was just out here in the highlands.”

  “Aye, with that fiery lass,” Barron said thoughtfully. He sighed a bit and shifted his weight.

  “I wish I could have brought her with us — but I donae know what the King is plannin’ — I canae risk her like that. Not anymore.”

  “Not anymore? Ye were fine with risking her when she was a commoner, aye?”

  Gavin stared at Barron and shook his head. “No — that’s...”

  “Admit it, Gav, that’s what it is. As soon as ye found out about her blood ye started worrying about her.”

  The Laird looked back to the embers, staring into them. He felt his heart race, he knew Barron was right.

  “What am I supposed to do?”

  “Treat her like ye did before.”

  “Before...”

  Gavin looked up into the sky and watched the stars. The clouds had a dark blue tint to them and the moon shined eagerly. He thought of the starry and exceptionally chilly nights he had spent with Elyn out on the highlands. The first moment he met her, naked and chilled to the bone from the rain. He chuckled.

  “Let us get some rest, Barron.”

  “Aye.”

  Barron stood up and paced back to his tent. Gavin waited for Barron’s boots to stop crunching the grass before he looked at his own tent. It would be a cold and lonely night tonight, not like before. He steeled his mind and snuffed out the fire, killing it with a couple scoopfuls of dirt.

  ***

  Gavin awoke in the night with a jolt. He sat up quickly, the fur blankets falling off of him and exposing his sweaty body to the unexpectedly frigid air. He stared through the darkness of his tent and tried to catch his breath. Something was wrong. He knew it, but not what or why.

  Gavin climbed out of his tent and searched around the camp for any signs of wildlife. Maybe it was an animal that disrupted his sleep. After finding nothing, he returned to the extinguished campfire and stared at it.

  He felt anxious, and the only thing he could think of was Elyn. It was something much stronger than homesickness though. After catching his breath, he left the dead fire and returned to his tent, climbing back under the furs and dozing again.

  He didn’t want to worry his men.

  ***

  The next day the men packed up their encampment and headed back down the trail to Castle Iverlochy. The morning ride went smooth enough, but Gavin couldn’t shake the tightness in his chest.

  Gavin felt uneasy. It wasn’t a familiar or comforting sensation, like a pit was stuck in his throat. He found himself constantly looking over his shoulder to his comrades, but wasn't sure why.

  “Gavin, what is it? Ye lookin’ fer someone?” Barron said, his voice as boisterous and friendly as ever. An undercurrent of concern was in his tone.

  “I donae know myself,” Gavin said. “I feel like something is amiss... like this isn’t right.”

  “Yer damn right it isn’t right. The King calling his Laird to punish him for treason — it’s ridiculous.”

  “I’m sure it’s a mistake...

  “We’ll get it sorted, Gavin,” Barron said. He slapped his hand on Gavin’s shoulder, giving him a look that made Gavin feel a bit guilty. A powerful Laird in his position shouldn't have to look to his men for support. He had to be stronger than that. Stronger than all the other highlanders in Scotland.

  The wind crept along the grassy highlands. The party of men braced themselves against the wind as it tried to bite at their exposed skin. The men squeezed their shoulders together and gripped their reins that much tighter, following the path to Castle Iverlochy through its twists and turns over the hills and valleys. Gavin didn’t know if he should prepare to face the King head on, or try and discuss the situation with him. Either way, he knew he had made a grave mistake by forgetting Robert’s involvement at Iverlochy. How could he have been so dense?

  Gavin furrowed his brow and sighed heavily. As his thoughts turned to the approaching confrontation, a fire swelled in his eyes. What if he lost? What would happen to his people? To Elyn? He clenched his jaw and held tighter to the reins, perishing the thought.

  He wouldn’t fail. It wasn’t an option. He dropped the idea from his mind. Gavin leaned down and stroked his steed's face, finding some comfort in Elspet's gentle nudge against his hand.

  The sun glowed in the sky, but even with the warm-looking orange glow it brought the highlands, the air was just as chilling as ever. Gavin had a feeling this winter was going to be the harshest yet.

  Gavin looked over his small battalion, if he could call it that. He and Barron led the group, with several of his secondary best following up behind. Barron had taken them out on a number of scouting expeditions, usually to handle reivers or bandits that strayed a bit too close to Dornie. The three men looked grizzled with age, but Gavin knew they couldn’t have been older than him by more than a year or two. Battle had hardened them.

  Still, they didn’t look very concerned with their mission. The shortest one, Fingal, had a small crop of black hair, and lines on his face that made him look like he was perpetually laughing. He was quietly talking under his breath to another highlander, Patrik. The last, Duncan, was imposing and looked terrifying, but currently seemed oblivious to the side conversation, his eyes flitting across the horizon and back again.

  “Fingal,” Gavin said. At the sound of his name, the young man perked up immediately and shut his mouth tight.

  He answered quickly, “Aye, mi Laird?”

  “Relax lad,” Gavin assured him. “What were ye and Patrik talkin’ about? I think we could all use something to take our minds off things.”

  Fingal cleared his throat and spoke up. “We were jus’ discussin’ our plans after we return to Eilean Donan.”

  “Oh?” Gavin said. He felt Barron shift his attention from staring blankly at the horizon to the conversation. “What might those be?”

  Barron interrupted. “Ye lads not talking about that girl again.”

  “No, no!” Patrik said. His face flushed. “Well... maybe a little.”

  “What girl?” Gavin asked.

  Barron shrugged dismissively. “This lass they won’t tell me about —,” he lowered his voice, “If you ask me, there is no girl and they only tease me, saying I wouldnae know who she was anyway.” Barron blew air. “Like I wouldnae know who anyone is.”

  Fingal laughed, only stopping to catch his balance before he toppled off his horse. He elbowed Patrik who couldn’t stop from grinning. Barron sighed heavily and groaned. “See what I mean? They just like gettin’ me mad.”

  Barron’s face was bright red, and Gavin felt himself crack a grin. “Someone has to keep you sharp, Barron, someone has to.”

  ***

  As the men crested a hill, their focus turned to the sound of galloping from behind them. Gavin and Barron instinctively reached for their swords, grasping the hard metal handles with careful strength. All five men stopped and turned their steeds to face back towards the castle.

  In the distance, with the twinkle of the orange sunset illuminating their vision, the men could see a small plume of dust and dirt rising behind a hill.

  “Who could that be?” Barron asked.

  Gavin’s heart raced a little. He felt torn between criticizing Elyn for following him and feeling overjoyed to see her.

  The galloping grew closer, and the men’s necks bristled with eagerness just as the rider broke the hill. It wasn’t Elyn, but one of the young men from the castle, Neil. Even from the distance, Gavin could see the dirt caked on his sweaty face, exhaustion and fear in his eyes.

  Gavin’s shoulders fell as Neil brought his horse to a halt in front of the men. He quickly dismounted before any of them could speak a world and shoved a letter into Gavin’s hands.

  Gavin took the paper and unfolded it, his eyes scanning the lines quickly. As he read, Neil blurted out why he had come so far.

  “We canae find Elyn anywhere.”

  Gavin folded the letter up, which said the same thing, bu
t was signed by Alec. “What do ye mean ye canae find her?” Gavin stared hard at Neil.

  Neil furrowed his brow. “I mean we can’t find her! She wasn’t in her chambers this morning, and no one saw her leave.”

  Gavin frowned and gritted his teeth. He couldn’t deal with this right now — Elyn couldn’t be disappearing out of fully guarded castles. It wasn’t likely. His mind raced.

  “Did you search Dornie? Did ye talk to her parents?”

  “We did all that, mi Laird, she’s nowhere.”

  “What do you think, Gavin?” Barron asked.

  Gavin felt a knot growing in his chest, a dry thing that raked his lungs. He grunted with displeasure and looked to Castle Iverlochy. Was she just following him? He couldn’t count on that... if the King wanted him for treason and didn’t expect him to show up, then maybe this had been the plan all along. To get Gavin out of the castle and leave it that much more ripe for infiltrating.

  “Do you think she’s following us? She didnae seem very pleased with being left behind,” Barron said. Neil looked a bit relieved at the thought, but Gavin shut him down almost immediately.

  “Nay. I donae. If she were, she would have reached us by now. She couldnae have gotten lost.”

  “So what then?”

  “I think we’ve been tricked.”

  “What are we going to do?”

  Gavin struggled to decide. If he continued to Castle Iverlochy looking for answers, he wasn’t sure he’d ever see her again. If he returned to Eilean Donan, he might have a chance of finding her — he could at least dispatch search parties. “If she isn’t just on a stroll out in the highlands and someone has her in their clutches, we have to assume the worst,” his voice wavered but he kept it firm. “If that is the King’s game, our small party isn’t going to be able to reason with him. We have to go back and get more men.”

  Barron nodded and turned his steed around down the path to Eilean Donan. After waiting for Neil to mount his horse again, Gavin urged Elspet back toward Eilean Donan as fast as she could go. He relocated his grip from the reins to her withers, her bestial vigor reminding him of Elyn and his time together on the highlands.