Highlander's Reckoning (The Sinclair Brothers #3) (23 page)

The guard jerked as the arrow sank into his neck,
then made a gurgling noise and began to list to one side. Just before he would
have toppled more than a dozen feet into the courtyard below with a clatter,
Daniel grabbed hold of one limp arm and pulled him back onto the battlement.

As quietly as possible, he eased the guard down onto
the stone battlement, pushing his already-lifeless body into the shadows as
much as possible. A moment later, Garrick, Burke, and Robert crept to his side.
Exchanging a quick nod, they continued silently along the battlement toward the
guard tower.

The tower was dark and empty. Daniel frowned. They
had seen one guard on the wall earlier, and another one who’d taken Garrick’s
arrow. But those two guards could have actually been the same person. The rest
of the battlement and the castle itself remained quiet and still.

Something was wrong. Where were all the guards? And
why was it so damned quiet? Robert poked his head out both sides of the guard
tower, confirming for Daniel that he too sensed something was off.

Daniel itched to draw his sword, but he feared that
if the guards and the rest of the castle’s men-at-arms lay waiting somewhere,
any glint off his blade would give their position away.

Even more on edge than before, they made their way
to the stairs leading from the tower to the inner yard. Whether or not they
were walking into a trap, they had to keep going. Daniel would never turn back
now, not this close to Rona. Nor would his brothers and cousin flee, trap or
nay.

The yard was quiet and empty, just as the
battlements had been. Thanks to Jossalyn’s instructions to approach from the
north, they only had a few paces to cover in the open before they reached the
tower keep. One by one, they crossed the distance between the curtain wall and
the tower, pressing themselves against the tower’s rounded stone exterior. Then
they slid around to the south side where Jossalyn told them the keep’s door
lay.

When they reached the large wooden double doors leading
into the keep, Garrick fully drew back the arrow he had nocked in his bow.
Finally, Daniel could draw his sword. He gripped the hilt at his hip and
unsheathed the blade, feeling instantly calmer with the weapon in his hand. The
faint hiss of Robert’s and Burke’s swords coming from their sheaths echoed his.
If a trap had been laid for them, it had to be inside the tower, for the rest
of the castle appeared empty.

With a quick nod to the others, Daniel took a deep
breath. Then he sent one booted foot into the keep’s doors, kicking them open.
He leveled his sword at the gaping, dark opening, bracing himself for an
attack.

The doors banged loudly against the stone walls, the
noise echoing through the castle’s great hall. No sea of soldiers poured forth.
No cry of attack filled the silence. The hall was empty and dark.

“I don’t like this,” Garrick whispered as he swept
his aim through the dark hall from the doorway.

Cautiously, Burke treaded through the open doors and
sidestepped toward one of the hall’s walls. Daniel could barely make out his
shadowy figure as he reached for something on the wall. A moment later, a spark
flickered in the darkness. Burke’s crouched figure was illuminated once, then
twice as he struck a flint over a candle he’d removed from an iron candleholder
on the wall. With a third strike of his flint, the tallow candle’s wick caught,
sending a steady glow throughout the hall.

Sure enough, the hall was empty. The trestle tables
and benches were pushed to the walls, and the hearth at the far end didn’t
smolder or smoke even faintly.

“Where’s the trap?” Robert said, stepping into the
hall. Daniel and Garrick followed, though Garrick walked through the doorway
backward, keeping the tip of his arrow pointed toward the yard in case they
were set upon from behind.

Daniel shook his head in confusion. Despite the
eerie silence surrounding them, he felt a presence in the castle. What was
Warren up to?

“We should check the dungeon,” Daniel said, though
he was beginning to fear that Rona wouldn’t be there.

Had his impression that he was drawing closer to her
been faulty? His instincts were screaming at him that something was off, but
all they could do was keep looking for her and pray that they hadn’t all been
horribly deceived.

Burke led the way toward the stairs at the back of
the great hall, sword in one hand and raised candle in the other. Daniel,
Robert, and Garrick trailed after him, each bracing for a surprise attack from
all directions.

The stairs wound down and down, far below ground.
The air, already night-cool, grew markedly colder as they descended. The stairs
finally ended at a single wooden door, which stood ajar.

Burke pushed the heavy door open with one boot, but
all was still. The door squeaked loudly, revealing its infrequent use. Why
would such a rarely used door be left open so carelessly?

As they filed through the door and Burke’s candle
illuminated the dungeon, Daniel caught sight of several cells stretching out.
One cell door stood open.

He pushed past Burke hastily and yanked the cell
door wide. The light from the candle threw shifting shadows against the cell’s
stone walls as Burke came up behind him.

The cell was empty.

“Bloody hell, what’s going on?” Daniel snapped.
“Where is she?”

Robert came to his side.

“Warren must have moved her, along with his entire
army,” Robert said levelly, though Daniel didn’t miss the bitterness lacing his
voice.

“Then why leave one guard on the curtain wall for us
to pick off?” Garrick said, a frown creasing his brow.

“A decoy? Or perhaps a thin attempt to cover his
absence?” Burke replied.

“Nay,” Daniel breathed, sheathing his sword and
turning his back on the others to stare at the cell walls. “Nay, this can’t be
it. We can’t fail.”

“It’s not over yet, little brother,” Robert said
quietly behind him.

“We’ll do a sweep of the tower, and once the sun has
risen, we’ll check the ground surrounding the main gate for signs of movement.
Warren can’t mobilize an entire army without leaving a trace,” Garrick added.

Daniel nodded, but his stomach sank to the floor.
Could his sense that Rona was near be wrong? Could Warren have outmaneuvered
the combined strategic abilities of all four of them?

He took a deep breath and shoved his thoughts aside.
He drew his sword once more. They had work to do. No matter where Rona was, no
matter how far away Warren had taken her, he would find her. And kill Warren.

He strode out of the cell and back to the stairs,
his brothers and cousin following him. When they reached the great hall, they
continued upward, winding their way to the private chambers abovestairs. Each
time they came upon a door leading off the stairwell, they’d shove it open,
weapons at the ready. But every time, they were only met with dark, empty
chambers.

They had nearly swept the entire tower when Daniel
noticed a faint glow of light coming from farther up the spiraling stairwell.
He threw up a hand to halt the others, who instantly tensed. Motioning toward
the light ahead, Daniel crept up the stairs, his sword raised.

At the very top of the tower stairs stood one door.
Faint light spilled around the doorframe. As the four of them took their
positions around the door, Daniel shot them each a quick nod. With all his
might, he kicked the door. He heard a groan and a splintering noise as the door
swung open, but as he stepped inside, he froze.

Warm candlelight filled the chamber, making him
squint. Nevertheless, his eyes were instantly drawn to the center of the room,
where Rona stood before him.

With a knife at her throat.

Rona jumped and nearly screamed when the chamber
door burst open. But when she saw Daniel, raised sword in his hands, she nearly
crumpled to the floor with a mixture of joy and dread.

The only thing that kept her on her feet and rooted
in place was Warren’s dagger against her throat.

Warren stood behind her, using her as a shield
against Daniel. He held the dagger to her neck tightly enough that her body was
flush against his and her head was tilted back slightly.

They had been standing like this for more than an
hour. It seemed like ages ago that Warren had stormed into her cell and yanked
her painfully up the stairs to his bedchamber, but it had only been a few hours
earlier in the night.

At first, she thought she was on her way to ransom
negotiations with Daniel. If she’d kept her count accurately, it had been five
nights and four days since she’d been taken in the Galloway woods, and a day
and a half since Warren had visited her in the dungeon to take a lock of her
hair. The timing would be tight, but it was possible that Warren’s ransom note
had already reached Daniel, and that they’d agreed to meet for an exchange or
to discuss the terms.

But when Warren had continued up the spiral
staircase past the great hall, dread had begun to fill her. When he opened the
door to his bedchamber and she’d met the sight of his enormous four-poster bed,
which dominated the room, she’d struggled wildly against his grip on her arms.

He’d struck her hard enough that she’d fallen to the
ground, and he kicked her a few times to ensure her submission.

“I’ll not fuck a Highlander’s used whore,” Warren
had said with a sneer at her. At least she was safe from that.

He’d made her stand in the middle of the room while
he gave a flurry of orders to several different men just on the other side of
the door. Then she knew what Warren had planned for Daniel and Loch Doon.
Selfishly, she longed for him to arrive, to take her away from this nightmare.
But if he arrived, as Warren was counting on, Daniel would be walking right
into Warren’s trap.

The castle had grown quiet as the men departed. Then
Warren had drawn the jewel-encrusted dagger at his waist and moved behind her,
laying the cold blade against her neck. He seemed content to wait like that,
never moving. But for her, a storm was breaking inside.

Her terror for Daniel blurred with the press of the
dagger at her throat. In the last five days, she’d only had the crust of bread
and waterskin Warren had given her. She trembled as she waited for Daniel,
longing to see his handsome, strong face one more time before ruin befell them
all.

And now here he was, his sword gleaming in the
chamber’s candlelight, his face a mask of rage, and his body taut and ready to
attack.

With a growl that sounded more animal than human,
Daniel took a step forward, levelling his sword.

Suddenly the dagger pressed hard into Rona’s neck,
and she struggled back from the blade, twisting her head as much as she could
away from its sharp edge. A panicked scream rose in her throat. This was it.
Warren was going to kill her now, in front of Daniel.

“I wouldn’t come any closer if I were you,” Warren
said behind her. She couldn’t see Warren’s face, but she could tell from his
voice that he was sneering. “You’re hurting her.”

Daniel froze, his chest heaving with rage. He
stretched his neck to try to get a clear look at Warren, but Warren shifted
behind her so that Daniel couldn’t set his sights on him.

Rona caught a flicker of movement over Daniel’s
shoulder in the doorway. Slowly, Robert, Burke, and finally Garrick entered the
chamber, coming to stand behind Daniel. Burke and Robert lowered their swords
so that the tips rested on the chamber’s floor, and Burke set down a tallow
candle. But Garrick kept an arrow aimed at her, the bowstring drawn back to his
cheek.

“Do you have a shot?” Daniel said flatly, never
taking his eyes from her.

“Nay, not a clean one,” Garrick replied behind him,
his voice tight with frustration.

Though she knew it went against every fiber in his
being, Daniel motioned for Garrick to lower the arrow. Then he forced himself
to slowly drop the tip of his sword, though he kept both hands gripped on the
hilt.

Once he did, the pressure from the dagger against
her throat eased marginally, and she could breathe again.

“What’s your play here, Warren?” Robert said from
behind Daniel. “If you had wanted to kill the lass, you’d have done it
already.”

Daniel drew back his lips and snarled at his
brother’s words, but Rona distantly comprehended what Robert was trying to do.
He was drawing Warren out, stalling him. She desperately wanted to scream a
warning to them, to tell them that stalling was exactly what Warren wanted.

“Or perhaps I was just waiting for you filthy
Sinclairs to arrive so that I could let you watch as I slice her throat and
drain the lifeblood from her,” Warren replied.

For effect, he pressed the blade a little harder
against her throat once more, causing her to inhale sharply. Daniel’s eyes
flared, but he didn’t move.

“If you want to hurt me, here I am,” Daniel said
through gritted teeth. “Why don’t you let her go and face me, man to man?”

“You should know by now that appeals to my chivalric
side won’t work,” Warren said. “Besides, your brothers taught me that it is
much more painful and…effective to go after what a man cares for instead of
attacking him directly.”

“So that’s what this is, Warren?” Robert said.
“You’re taking vengeance for Alwin and Jossalyn?”

Rona felt Warren shrug behind her.

“More for Lady Hewett than my weakling sister. That
reminds me, though.”

Warren stepped sideways, keeping Rona in front of
him by guiding her with the knife on her throat. Now she could see fully around
Daniel to Garrick.

“I believe I owe you for
this
.” Warren
flashed his other hand in front of her, and she noticed a circular white scar
on both the back and palm of his hand.

Garrick’s eyes flickered to Warren’s hand, and a
cold, deadly smile spread across his face.

“Any time you’d like to repay me for the arrow I
sent through your hand, I’ll be more than willing.”

“Perhaps once this little matter is taken care of,”
Warren replied calmly, but he began backing up toward the large bed behind
them.

Rona kept pace with him, the blade keeping her
plastered to him. To her surprise, when Warren’s legs bumped into the bed, he
sat on its edge, bringing her down onto his lap. Even through her wool dress,
she could feel that heat rolled off him.

Daniel growled again, but Rona knew Warren only had
her on his lap to serve as his shield.

“If all you want is to kill her in front of me, what
are you waiting for?” Daniel hissed, his eyes burning in rage.

Warren sighed. “I thought I might draw it out a bit.
You see, your lovely wife has caused me quite a bit of trouble and pain. I’m
sure you have become acquainted with her willfulness, but I must chastise you
for not breaking her of it yet.”

Daniel blinked several times, and his eyes locked on
Rona as if registering her appearance for the first time. She hadn’t seen
herself since she’d been captured, but she could guess at what she must look
like to him. Her hair was tangled and matted, her gown dirt-soiled and torn in
places. Her face was stiff and achy, likely bruised badly, and she knew that
dried blood mixed with fresher red in several places where Warren had hit her.

Daniel inhaled sharply, and his face flashed from
rage to anguish and back again.

Warren scoffed behind her. “She’s only just begun to
pay for what she’s done to
me
.”

She felt him shift beneath her, and he leaned over
slightly so that for the first time, his face appeared to Daniel and the others
from behind her shoulder. She saw their eyes widen, and she knew they were
seeing the horror she’d witnessed a few hours ago when he’d fetched her from
the dungeon.

The wound on his left cheek where she’d bitten him
hadn’t closed. In fact, it had festered into a raw, open cesspit. The flesh was
red and inflamed, and it oozed yellowish pus. Worse, the festering was
spreading. Warren’s left eye was half-swollen shut and as inflamed as the raw
wound on his cheek. And there were tendrils of red and purple trailing from the
mangled flesh down his neck and up toward his sandy hair.

She hadn’t seen Warren try to cover the gaping,
inflamed wound since he’d dragged her from the dungeon. She guessed that it was
too painful even for the most soothing poultice or the softest bandage. She’d
seem him wince and gnash his teeth several times, however, and knew the wound
pained him greatly. Perhaps that was why he was sitting on the edge of the bed,
she thought with a flicker of hope. Perhaps the wound was sapping his strength.
He was far too hot as well—was fever racking him?

Daniel gazed with revulsion at Warren’s mangled
face.

“Please tell me that my wife did that to you,” he
said.

Daniel’s barb struck its mark, but too well. The
blade was suddenly pressing against Rona’s throat again. A trickle of warmth
ran down her neck, and she let out a half-scream, half-cry at the feel of her
own blood flowing.

The blade eased back once more.

“I warned you,” Warren said stormily. “Do something
foolish again and she’ll pay for it.”

Daniel looked torn between wanting to rip Warren’s
throat out with his teeth and staying rooted in place for Rona’s sake. Luckily,
Burke diverted Warren’s attention.

“Where is your army? And why have you remained here
alone and unguarded?” Burke said with a surprising level of calm.

Warren turned his attention to Burke, who stood
farthest away.

“I’m not entirely alone and unguarded,” he replied,
giving Rona a little shake. “But about my army, you’ll just have to wait a
little longer before all is revealed.”

Though his voice was smooth, Rona could feel Warren
slouching deeper into the bed. She risked a glance down at the blade against
her throat. Warren’s knuckles were white from his grip on the dagger, and his
hand shook a little.

A combination of desperation and hope surged through
her. The longer Warren stalled, the more likely it was that his plan would be
unstoppable. But on the other hand, his strength seemed to be flagging. The
festering was spreading quickly, sapping his energy. How long could he
withstand the damage from such a wound? He’d already been sickly when he first
visited her in the dungeon almost two days ago, but he’d deteriorated even more
since then.

She locked eyes with Daniel. He was barely holding
on to the thread of his composure. His own knuckles were white on the hilt of
his sword, so torturous was it for him to stand before her and be unable to
strike down her abuser. She tried to silently communicate with him, to tell him
to hold on just for a few more moments, that she was all right and that Warren
wouldn’t be able to restrain her for much longer.

“You see, I have been on the defensive for too long.
Ever since the battle of Roslin, I have been forced to stay behind the walls of
Dunbraes rather than search out and rid the land of you Scottish barbarians.”

Despite his shaking hand and the feverish heat
rolling off him, Warren seemed to be savoring drawing this out. It was his last
play, Rona knew.

“And with King Edward dead, I was beginning to lose
hope that the task of cleansing the Scottish scourge from lands that should
belong to England would ever be completed. His son has proven himself an
ineffectual weakling who will never take up his father’s title of Hammer of the
Scots,” Warren went on.

Rona tore her eyes from Daniel and shifted her gaze
to Garrick, who stood to his right and behind him. Garrick still had an arrow
nocked, though his bow was lowered at his side. He flicked his eyes to Rona and
away again so quickly that she wasn’t sure he’d understood what she was
silently trying to communicate.

“…so close to the Borderlands for so long,” Warren
was saying. Rona was hardly paying attention to him. Her stomach twisted in
anticipation. She had to do something. She had to take advantage of his
loosening grip on the dagger at her throat. She knew Warren was backed into a
corner now. He’d run out of time. He would tell them his plan now that he’d
stalled them, but once he had, she was no longer of use to him. She had to
strike before he no longer needed her as a shield.

“…realized I didn’t have to wait. I could finally go
on the offense against you savages. I could attack.”

It was time.

Suddenly Rona threw both hands around the wrist that
held the dagger to her throat. Pulling Warren’s wrist away from her throat as
hard as she could, she slammed one elbow into his ribs. As Warren grunted and
crumpled slightly behind her, she caught a glimpse of Garrick dropping to one
knee and drawing back his bowstring in one smooth movement.

She flung herself forward onto the floor just as
Garrick let his arrow fly. In mid-fall, she heard a whir next to her ear and
felt a breath of air as the arrow shot past her face. She landed hard on the
floor, but turned to look back over her shoulder at Warren.