Child of the Mist (42 page)

Hugh remained somewhere in the mountains near Ben Cruachan. His cousin ran with a large group of outlaws who appeared content with periodic cattle raids upon nearby crofts. In time, Niall would have to see to their capture. But not now. Now, it was enough that Hugh stayed away from Kilchurn and made no overt attempts against him.

If only he could catch the traitor in a false move. Even Duncan was now kept at arm's length after a heated argument over his uncle's ruthless persecution of Anne. Though the tanist claimed he was borne along on the tide of law and religion in condemning Anneand regretted it deeplyNiall found the act hard to forgive. For all practical purposes, Niall was now alienated from all the closest male members of his family.

His glance moved to the door that separated his room from Anne's. Aye, he mused glumly, and alienated from Anne as well. The continuing dilemma of her loyalty to Iain over what he saw as her expected commitment to him ate at Niall. Now, more than ever, he wanted her, needed the solace of her body, her love. But her stubborn devotion to his cousin was more than Niall could bear.

He knew he was being an irrational, jealous fool, knew his feelings were clouding his judgement, but why couldn't she understand, be there for him when he needed her most? Aye, needed her most of all while he fought through this quagmire of doubts and suspicions. If only. . . .

Niall rose from his chair. His long, lithe strides carried him across the bedchamber in a matter of seconds. There were ways, aside from strong words, he reminded himself meaningfully, to bring a woman to heel. He knew Anne's body as well as his ownthe slim, ripened form, the tantalizing curves and graceful hollows.

The pleasure he'd gain in exacting her apology stirred him wildly. All Niall wanted, all he could think of, was Anne.

She was not in her bedchamber. Niall frowned.

Where could she be? It was nearly time for the supper meal. Mayhap she was already below, awaiting him in the Great Hall. He turned to reenter his room when a bit of parchment on the table near the door caught his eye.

His name in Anne's feathery scrawl was written upon a small scroll sealed with red wax. Uneasiness coiled within Niall as he picked up the letter and broke it open. How strange that Anne would choose such a manner to communicate with him.

His eyes narrowed to glittering slits as he read her words. ''Niall, twice before I begged you to let me return to my people. I ask you no longer. Even now I am on my way home, my clansmen having come for me. 'Tis over between us. I beseech you, don't follow. 'Tis better I am gone from your life."

The letter was signed simply "Anne."

Niall groaned, throwing back his head, his eyes clenched in pain. The parchment crumpled in his fist. How could she do this to him? How could she be so cruel, so hardhearted? It wasn't like her. . . .

His eyes snapped open. Nay, it wasn't like Anne at all. Someone had surely said something to frighten or to convince her she was saving him by sacrificing their love. A fury smoldered inside him. Niall pondered all possibilitiesand alighted on the most obvious culprit.

Iain. It
had
to be Iain. Who else would she listen to? And who else but Iain desperately wanted her to leave?

With a harsh cry, Niall stormed from the room. He paused only long enough to send the guard to gather more men, ordering him to bring them to Iain's bedchamber. Then Niall strode off.

For a brief moment he considered going back for his sword, then decided his dirk would be more than adequate. He'd not give his cousin opportunity to attack. He'd strike first to win the advantage.

He paused outside Iain's. bedchamber to withdraw his dirk, then walked in without knocking. Iain was sitting by the fire, a book in his hands. He seemed not at all surprised at Niall's arrival. Iain calmly closed the volume and laid it aside. His gaze when he looked up at Niall was cool, unperturbed.

Niall's temper exploded as he advanced on Iain. Grabbing the front of his shirt, he pulled his cousin to his feet and pressed the dirk to his throat. Iain tensed but said nothing.

Niall pushed the knife a little deeper. Blood welled at the blade's tip, trickling down Iain's neck and chest to stain his shirt. He didn't move.

"How long?" Niall demanded hoarsely. "How long ago did she leave?"

He pulled the dirk back a little.

"Two hours," came the terse reply.

"Damn you!" Niall cursed. "Why did you do it? Why couldn't you leave Anne and me be? You've finally gone too far, cousin. Now you haven't even Annie's influence to protect you!"

"Do you think I care?" Iain snarled in return. "Anne is safe now. From Malcolm, my father, and most o' all, from you. She was in more danger from you than them, for you professed to care for her, to protect her, and didn't. Your selfish needs blinded you to her danger, and always will. I am glad I helped her escape and naught,
naught
you can do to me will change that!"

Something inside Niall shattered, severing his emotions from all rational control.
Kill him!
a voice screamed inside his head.

The sound of the guards rushing into the room wrenched Niall from his violent thoughts. His rageclouded vision cleared. Once again he saw before him his cousin, a man who refused to lift a hand to defend himself. To ram the dirk home now would be murder. No matter what Iain might ultimately bea traitor, a murdererNiall was neither.

He removed the blade from Iain's throat and shoved him back into his chair. "You won't escape your well-deserved punishment. 'Tis only delayed until I return with Anne."

Niall motioned to the guards, secretly pleased by the spark of anger that flared in Iain's eyes at his mention of bringing back Anne. "Take my cousin down to the dungeon and clamp him in chains," he ordered his men. "I'll deal with him later."

Iain leaped to his feet. If not for the drawn swords instantly pointed at him, he would have attacked Niall. As it was, his powerfully muscled form trembled with barely suppressed rage as he permitted himself to be bound.

He'd not allow the guards to lead him away, however, without firing some parting words. "You've also gone too far,
cousin,
" Iain cried, "This won't set well with the clan. Beware your followers, for you may soon have none to lead!"

All the doubts about Iain flooded Niall with renewed force. He gave a harsh laugh. "Spoken like a true traitor," he sneered, then signaled the guards. "His presence sickens me. Get him out o' my sight!"

Their band had gotten a late start. Before departing Campbell lands, Anne had paid Ena one last visit. The old healer was well, recovered from her terrifying stay in Kilchurn's dungeons. Their farewell had been tearful, for neither knew if they'd ever see each other again.

Now, the day was edging toward twilight. Anne's gaze moved to the setting sun. They'd been on the road two hours and had at least another two more before reaching Castle Gregor. It would be well into the night before she arrived home.

Anne glanced at the men riding with her. There were four of them, all "broken men" from other clans who'd pledged their loyalty to Iain in return for the protection of the Campbell name. As an underchieftain of Niall's, Iain had considerable power and resources of his own. Yet Anne couldn't help but worry about him. Niall could have a fearsome temper when pushed far enough and Iain would never back down.

With a small shudder, she shoved the anxiety aside. There was nothing more she could do to ease the rivalry between them, save leave them both. That in itself might be all that was needed. She hoped, she prayed that it would be so.

Once again, Anne glanced toward the mountains. Amid a wild landscape, Ben Cruachan towered over the land. Its lower slopes were heavily wooded, thinning as the elevation rose to bare and lumpy crags, the summit split into two cones. The mountain exerted a vital, powerful influence over Campbell landsbold, proud, compelling. So much, she realized with a bittersweet pang, like the dark man she was leaving behind.

She loved Niall, would always love him. But Anne wasn't certain there could ever be a life for them together. Mayhap in time things might settle down, tempers and unreasoning fears might fade. But that might be a long while from now.

Niall was a virile, lusty man in his prime. He could well tire of waiting and take another wife. Their handfasting only bound them for a year, less than ten months more. And Anne knew how dearly Niall wished for an heir.

Tears, maddeningly frequent of late, filled her eyes. There was nothing else she could do. If she must give him up to save him, so be it. Her love could do no less. It was enough that he lived. It had to be.

Up ahead, the call of a sparrow hawk rent the silent evening. From behind them came an answering cry. Her companions exchanged narrowed glances, reining in their mounts. Unease spiraled through Anne. There was something not quite right.

The thunder of horses pounding over the hills that bordered the road filled the air, mingling with harsh shouts and battle cries. Iain's men closed in around her, drawing their swords. In a clash of horseflesh and metal, the attackers, twenty strong, were upon them.

Screams of pain as blades cut into living flesh, the squeals of terrified horses, rose to surround Anne in a horrifying cacophony. Her companions fought bravely to protect her, taking down several of the enemy before finally falling to the overwhelming odds. Almost before it had begun, the battle was over.

Anne sat there on her horse, alone amid the carnage, her traveling gown splattered with blood. She swung her gaze around the band of men encircling her. From the plaids they wore, they were Campbells, but not ones she recognized. What did they want from her? Indeed, who
were
they?

The sound of another rider drawing up behind her sent a premonitory prickle through Anne. There was a malevolence emanating from him so tangible it was as if he'd run his finger down her spine. She stiffened, dreading the confrontation to come. Slowly, she turned in her saddle.

"So, we meet again, whoring witch." Hugh Campbell chuckled evilly. "And once more you are totally at my mercy."

He motioned to Anne. "Bind her. We must be off. 'Tis too dangerous to linger so near Kilchurn."

She unsheathed her bodice knife. "Kill me now, Hugh, for I will not go with you. Let me die with these brave lads and have done with it."

"And spare you the torment I've planned for you this night?" He grinned, his glance skimming her slender form. "I think not. I've a taste to know your witch's charms before I kill you. You're a special lass to have enchanted a man such as Niall Campbell. I'll know the reason why."

"Take her." He backed his mount away.

Four burly warriors surrounded Anne. She slashed out as the nearest one grabbed for her, leaving a deep gash in his arm. He cursed and drew back, clutching the wound.

Another arm snaked about her waist, nearly unseating her. Anne wheeled, her dagger arcing toward her newest attacker. She'd meant only a glancing cut, but the man leaned forward at the last moment. The blade went deep, into the outlaw's gut.

With a strangled cry, he loosened her and toppled from his mount, her dagger still embedded in his belly. Anne's gaze followed him, horrified at what she'd done. The momentary distraction was all the advantage the other men needed.

One grabbed her by the hair, pulling her to the ground. Another two leaped down to pin her roughly there, wrenching her arms behind her to bind them tightly. In the next instant, she was pulled back to her feet.

Hugh rode up. "You'll pay for that, wench! I don't sell the lives o' my men lightly. When I'm done with you, each and every one will have you in turn. Then I'll slowly, but ever so thoroughly, choke your life away."

"Never!" she cried. "Never, do you hear me! I'll kill myself before I let that happen!"

A cruel smile touched his lips. "And when will you have that opportunity, devil's whore? We'll guard that precious life o' yours with our own. Until we're done with you.

"Come, let us be gone!" Hugh commanded.

Turning his horse, he galloped off over the hills, headed toward Ben Cruachan. Anne was lifted up into the arms of a nearby man, her mount left standing where it was. In a flurry of hoofbeats and choking dust, the outlaw band headed out after its leader.

She glanced over her shoulder as they rode away. Behind her, ten bodies, all dressed in Campbell plaids, were sprawled bloody and lifeless on the ground. And nearby, heedless of the slaughter, her horse moved to graze upon a succulent patch of grass.

Niall, accompanied by one of his warriors, galloped down the road. He'd kept up the frantic pace for well over an hour now and, from the spacing of the hoofprints in the dirt ahead, knew he should soon overtake Anne's much slower party. Though there were four men with her to their two, he felt confident they could physically overpower them if the need arose. He only hoped it wouldn't come to that. He dreaded endangering Anne in a fight.

An unnatural stillness lay upon the scene that greeted him as he crested the next hill. Bodies were scattered on the ground not far below. In the deepening twilight, the distance made it difficult to make out form or sex. With his heart in his throat, Niall urged his stallion on, checking his speed only when he reached the bodies. His horse skidded to a halt. Niall was off its back in an instant.

He ran from one form to the next and quickly ascertained Anne was not among them. Relief surged through him. He began to examine the bodies more closely. Four he recognized as Iain's men. The other six he knew as men he'd banished as outlaws. In the belly of one, Niall found Anne's dagger.

"You little wildcat," he whispered in admiration.

He withdrew the knife and wiped its blood-stained blade clean on the grass. "Keep fighting them, Annie," he rasped. "I'm coming."

Niall slipped her dagger into his belt and swung onto his horse, readjusting the claymore that hung at his back. His clansman quirked a questioning brow.

"Their track leads toward Ben Cruachan," Niall explained. "Return to Kilchurn and bring a party o' forty men back on this trail. I'm riding on."