Highlander Unbroken (Highland Adventure Book 8) (29 page)

He glanced around but did not see Lady Kristina anywhere. "Where did she go?" he yelled to his men but they were otherwise engaged, fighting enemies along the trail leading to the castle. Kristina couldn't have been taken that way or she would still be within view.

Blackburn snarled curses. Where the hell was she? Had the bastard taken her into the wood? His leverage was gone. Rather than look for Kristina in the forest and fight Camerons there, 'twould be far easier to slip inside the castle and take Lady MacCromar by force while everyone else was busy fighting.

He ran along the sandbar which led to the castle, passing his own guards and other men clustered about in sword fights, too busy to notice him. He climbed the hill and hid behind a large boulder before the enemies charging down the hill saw him.

Once they were gone, he crawled the remainder of the way up the hill among the heather, then ran alongside the high stone wall. At the postern gate, a guard stood inside.

"Who are you?" the guard demanded.

Blackburn thrust his sword through the iron bars, but the guard leapt back.

"Are you helping Sleat?"

"What do you think? I'm Chief MacCromar and my wife is being held inside. I must rescue her."

"Well, why didn't you say so?" The guard took out a key and unlocked the gate.

Blackburn was stunned. "Who are you?"

"Gegrim. Make sure Sleat kens I helped you rescue your wife."

"I'll tell him. And I thank you. Where is she?"

"Inside the keep somewhere, most likely barred in a chamber on the second floor. Go in through the kitchen." Gegrim pointed.

Although Blackburn didn't fully trust the guard, he ran in the direction indicated, then found a doorway. Indeed, 'twas the kitchen, strangely empty but still very warm. No doubt the servants were hiding someplace.

Blackburn hastened up the steps into the empty great hall and ran up to the floor above. Finding a carved oak door with a padlock on the outside, he frowned, then knocked.

"Who is it?" asked the female voice inside.

Was that Susanna? Nay. Didn't sound like her. But maybe all the women were locked in the same chamber.

He stepped back and kicked the door with all the strength he possessed. The hasp pulled out of the door frame and the door swung open.

He charged in, wielding his sword and the young blond woman inside screamed and ran to the other side of the room. "Who are you?" she asked.

"Blackburn MacCromar. Where is Anna Douglas?" He glanced about the room, finding it empty.

The young lady's eyes widened. "Oh, you're Anna's husband!"

"Aye."

"I'm Constance Gordon, the one who sent you the missive, letting you know where she is."

"Aha. I'm glad you did. 'Haps you can help me further by showing me where she is now."

"I've been locked in here for days, so I'm uncertain." She stepped into the corridor. "But we'll find her. You must promise me something first, though."

"What's that?"

"That you will take your wife away and never allow her back here."

"Of course. That's my plan exactly."

"Good. I would wager she's in Neacal's bedchamber."

"Bedchamber?" Blackburn growled, rage burning over him. "I'll kill the bastard if he survives the battle."

"Even better." Constance smiled and rushed along the corridor.

He followed, his anger growing with each step he took.

She paused at a corner. "Wait here," she whispered. "I'll see if Neacal left a guard."

Blackburn nodded. "Tell her that her sister, Kristina, has been brought into the great hall," he said in a hushed tone.

"'Tis a great idea." The lass stepped around the corner out of sight.

"How did you escape your chamber?" a man yelled, further along.

"Leith, I must see Anna Douglas immediately," Constance said in an urgent tone.

"Nay. This door is not to be opened until the chief returns."

"But her sister has been brought into the great hall!" Constance shouted. "And… and she's injured. She's asking for Anna."

Blackburn grinned. What a talented liar the lass was. Listening carefully, he heard a door being unbarred and opened.

"What? Kristina is here?" 'Twas Anna's voice echoing along the hallway. Victory surged through him and he could hardly contain his eagerness. He'd been searching for her for so long, and now what he wanted most was almost within his grasp.

***

Anna gripped the hilt of Neacal's dirk, her quick heartbeat thumping in her ears.
Oh, dear God, Kristina.
"I must go see her, Leith! Come with me."

"Nay, m'lady," he said. "The chief said you are not to leave this room until he returns. I'll have someone bring her up to you."

"If she lives that long." Constance shrugged and strode away. "I was only trying to help," she called back, then disappeared around the corner.

Anna glared at Leith, blocking her path with his massive bulk. "Let me pass! I must see my sister."

"M'lady…"

"Aye, let her pass or you shall find a dirk in your back," said a sinister male voice behind him.

Leith spun, drawing his own dirk and striking out. Then Anna saw the man behind him—Blackburn.

"Nay!" she yelled as the two men locked together in a knife fight.

Blackburn hooked his foot around Leith's ankle, knocking him down, then stabbed him in the upper chest near his shoulder.

"You bastard!" Rushing forward, Anna jabbed the dirk she held into Blackburn's back, but it hardly penetrated his tough leather armor.

He rose up, yanked the dirk from her hand and shoved her into the chamber.

A rush of terror and alarm shooting through her, she backed away from Blackburn. His eyes gleamed with triumph.

"Where is Kristina?" Anna demanded.

A sneer on his face, Blackburn bolted forward, grabbed her and shoved her against the wall. "How dare you stab me, bitch? The only reason you're alive right now is because I allowed it." He crushed his mouth against hers.

She gagged. Turning her head aside, she pushed at him but he wouldn't budge. She yanked her knee upward, smashing it into his groin.

He growled. "Damn you!" He grabbed her hair, yanked it painfully and threw her on the bed, face down.

Fury and panic consumed her. "Where is my sister, you bastard?" she yelled, kicking at him and trying to pull away, but he held her in place on the bed.

"Is this where you sleep with that Neacal whoreson?" he thundered.

"Nay! I want no man touching me!" Anna knew she had to lie, else he might kill her in a fit of jealousy.

"Then why are you in his bedchamber, slut?"

"'Tis the safest place."

Blackburn gave a humorless laugh. "Or so he thought."

Dear God, please keep Neacal and Kristina safe,
she prayed. She would endure much hardship if only she could be sure they were unharmed.

"I ken where your sister is," Blackburn said. "If you'll be quiet and cooperate, I'll take you to her." He drew her hands behind her back and tied something around her wrists.

He was lying, she knew. But even the smallest chance she would see her sister stilled her actions.

"Is she all right?" Anna asked, starving for the least bit of information. "Is she in the great hall as Constance said?"

"Nay, she's outside the walls and fit as a fiddle." He gave a short laugh that made her nauseous.

"Did you hurt her in any way?"

"Nay! Now cease your questions." He clamped her legs between his, wrapped her skirts tightly around her ankles then tied them together.

She prayed her sister was well, but she knew better than to trust the word of this devil.

If only she could get to the other knife secured on her leg, but that was impossible now.

"How could you drag a blind lass across the country?" Anna asked. "What kind of monster are you?"

"The kind who wants his wife back," he muttered, wrapping his hand around her throat and breathing heavily against her ear. "If you want your sister to live, you will do everything I say. By the way, you have become very fetching of late, much prettier than when you left." He ran his hand downward and squeezed her breast. "Did you allow that scarred whoreson to bed you?"

"I already told you
nay
. Get off me, you bastard!" She shoved backward, trying to dislodge him.

"Such unladylike language, my sweet." He laughed. "But I like it." He ground his hardened shaft against her derriere.

"Ugh." Chills of revulsion covered her. Though she struggled against him, he forced a twisted piece of material between her teeth, then tied it behind her head. While she lay on the bed, he rolled her up in the plaid blanket, covering her from head to toe.

"Now, I'm taking you home, m'lady." Blackburn threw her over his left shoulder, the hard muscle and bone jabbing into her stomach painfully, near knocking the breath from her. He carried her out into the corridor.

She wished she could see if Leith still lived but could see naught beyond the blanket. She said a quick prayer for him, then tried to scream but the sounds emerged muffled behind the gag. She smashed her knees into his chest, but in response, he merely clamped her legs tightly to him and kept going down the spiral steps. Anna's head upside down, dizziness assailed her.

He carried her through the warm kitchen then out the door. His feet tramped across the wet cobblestones as the high winds roared overhead.

"Halt!" a man yelled off to her left.

"Leave him be!" another man ordered.

Sword clangs rang out a few yards distant, as did the grunts and curses of the two swordsmen.

"I thank you, Gegrim. You'll be rewarded." Blackburn ran with her, jostling her about.

Gegrim?
Anna remembered that guard. So he was the traitor? If only she could tell Neacal. Where was he? Beyond the walls, fighting?

Turning this way and that, Anna could not escape Blackburn. The blanket slipped a bit and she glimpsed the edge of the postern gate as they passed through it. The wind drove the rain sideways, dampening the blanket and her clothing. Though she could not see much beyond the plaid, she heard shouts, sword clangs and sounds of battle in the distance. She prayed again that Neacal had been unharmed while fighting and that he would stay safe.

***

Constance braved the gale force winds and the rain on the ramparts to see what was happening below. She watched as Blackburn carried someone—Anna, she assumed—rolled up in a blanket across the courtyard and out through the postern gate. She switched her attention to the battle happening a hundred yards distant on the mainland. Neacal fought and killed soldier after soldier of the enemy clans. She narrowed her eyes and ground her teeth, hoping his rival's next strike would kill him. But it didn't. Damn him and his hawk-like focus.

She could not wait until he learned that his beloved Anna had been taken away, that she was lost to him forever. Constance wanted to see the devastation in his eyes, the same devastation she felt every minute since Neacal had killed Farquar.

She ran down several flights of steps to the great hall, and then out into the bailey, being careful not to slip on the wet cobblestones or slick mud. She passed Gegrim and another guard, lying dead in their own blood, near the open postern gate. Had they killed each other, or was an enemy lurking about? Not pausing to find out, she dashed outside and along the wall, ignoring the wind and rain. She wanted to be the one to tell Neacal that Anna was gone, that he would never see her again. She wanted to be the one to break him, to shatter him, mind and soul, while at the same time distracting him. Then his opponent would deliver the death blow. Finally, she would have her revenge for Farquar's death.

***

Blackburn ran down a hill, jarring Anna painfully against his firm, bulky shoulder. The gag in her mouth prevented her from screaming to draw attention and gain help.

He sprinted over flatter ground, first grass and then wet sand. The roaring sound of the loch and the tide reached her ears. The wind and rain buffeted against her. Where was he taking her?

His feet thumped against wood as he climbed into a small boat and lowered her into the bottom of it. The boat shook as he leapt off and shoved it from the shore.

Was he mad? Going out on the loch during a gale storm? The wind could easily capsize the tiny vessel. A new flood of terror consumed her.

She heard the oars splashing through the water as waves tossed the wherry about. Moidart was a saltwater loch, subject to the tides. And though the waves were not like those at sea, the wind and tide churned the water enough to rock the small boat. He was a madman. If the boat should capsize, she would be dead. Not that she knew how to swim even if she was untied. She tried to calm herself and focus on breathing. She must come up with a plan if she was to survive this.