Samantha Holt (Highland Fae Chronicles) (25 page)

Finn moved behind them. “Ye lead, Logan, I shall bring up the rear and protect the women.”

Logan nodded and Catriona raised an eyebrow as she studied Finn’s shackled hands. But then, she had seen Finn and Logan fight. Weapons or not, both were skilled warriors. Though her pulse drummed rapidly and her stomach churned, she did not doubt they would do their best to see them out of the keep unscathed.

They hastened down the stairs, Lorna behind Logan. Catriona nearly stumbled into her back when Logan stopped at the bottom and pressed a finger to his lips. Cautiously, they stepped out onto the gallery and Logan peered over the railings. He indicated for them to follow but no matter how carefully they trod, there was no disguising the creaking wood or footsteps.

The two men-at-arms were easing Gillean into the large chair in the corner of the Great Hall when they descended the stairs. Finn moved in front of them, forcing Lorna and Catriona back.

Gillean, a hand to his head, waved vaguely at them. “Get them,” he commanded.

With a scrape of steel and cautious footsteps, the two men came for them and Lorna clutched Catriona’s hand.

“Get to the passageway as soon as ye get the chance,” Finn murmured as he lifted his hands in surrender.

“But...” Catriona protested.

“Go!” Finn growled.

Lorna glanced at her and tugged her hand. Catriona offered her a smile of understanding. Neither of them had any intention of abandoning the men. In a swift movement, they stepped around the men and inserted themselves in between them and the steel points. Catriona held her shoulders firm as she eyed their swords and the momentary flicker of confusion on the men’s faces.

Gillean groaned from the corner. “Damnation, don’t kill my bride! Just the others.”

The delay was enough. Finn and Logan pressed through while their blades were down and kicked the men to the ground.

“Move!” Logan barked.

Finn snatched Catriona’s hand and they ran for the passageway. The steps proved slippery and Catriona struggled to keep her footing as Finn forced her to move swiftly. Soon her slippers met damp ground, slowing her pace. The dark confines of the passageway made her eyes go wide and she concentrated on the faint outline of Finn’s shoulders and Logan and Lorna’s breaths and squelching footsteps behind her.

A pale glow sent shadows frolicking and she stifled a sound of alarm. “They’re following us,” she cried out.

Finn grunted and tugged her hand and urged her to move faster. Her skirts felt heavy, weighed down by mud probably and the cold confines of the passageway chilled her skin. Lorna stumbled into her several times and Logan cursed. The golden light of torches grew, bathing the dank walls and a bitter tang seeped into her mouth. Metal clanged against stone and Catriona pictured the men with their swords drawn and thrust out in front of then, ready to slice them down.

The slender strip of light ahead made her head swim with relief. It seemed to her Finn barely even slowed as they hurried up the stairs and burst through the door into daylight. Catriona blinked in the light and Finn dragged her to one side as they watched Lorna and Logan emerge. Logan slammed the door shut behind them and Finn released her hand to help him haul a water barrel in front of the door.

Glancing up at the walls, she noted a few of the men-at-arms turning to view them. A cry suddenly went up, though she couldn’t distinguish what it was and one of the men flung himself at one of the others. Within moments, fighting had broken out—Gillean’s men against Lorna’s. Shouts and muffled curses rang out. Some men fought with their fists, others with whatever they could find. Catriona winced as a man was tossed from the walls. The brawling spilled into the courtyard and Finn urged Catriona and Lorna behind him. Logan waited and darted into the mess to snatch a sword from a fallen man. He grinned, clutching the weapon between his bound hands as he made his way back over to them.

“We must get the women out. Whatever happens, Gillean is still laird.”

Finn nodded. “Aye, we can take them out of the rear entrance.”

Hacking at anyone who came near, Logan carved a path through for them. Catriona fought the rising bile as blood stained the dirt and men fought for superiority. How would it all end? Lorna’s men outnumbered Gillean’s but they were still unarmed. She glanced at Lorna—who usually appeared so strong—to see her ashen-faced and wide-eyed.

They came up to the small door, hidden behind a cart and the men urged them toward it while they fended off anyone who approached. Lorna fumbled to open it, pausing to call to the men, “Are ye coming?”

Logan paused and glanced around. “I cannae leave the men.”

“Nay, ye must come, Logan,” Lorna insisted.

“Lorna, I have worked and lived with them for many years. I willnae abandon them. They fight for ye and I will do the same.”

“But....”

“Go now. Ye wouldnae want me to behave dishonourably would ye.” He offered her a soft smile.

Tears shimmered in Lorna’s gaze and she nodded.

Catriona stared desperately at Finn. “Finn?” She knew what he would say before he said it.

“I shall stay too but we shall join ye shortly. Besides,” he grinned, “I must get Dìleas. She’ll never forgive me if I leave her.”

“And I will never forgive ye if ye leave me!” Catriona declared as her throat tightened.

“I shall have to live with that I fear, wee lass. Now be gone with ye, both of ye. Dinnae stop until ye reach Glencolum. Lorna knows the way. We shall be along soon.”

Lip tucked between her teeth, Catriona nodded. Lorna gave her brother a quick embrace but Catriona couldn’t bring herself to. She feared she might never let him go if she did. Before anyone could speak, Logan took off and Finn followed, bestowing her with one more jaunty smile.

Lorna grabbed her hand. “Come, we must go or all this is for naught.”

Nodding, Catriona gripped the woman’s hand and they ducked out of the door and ran for the hills. They stumbled and climbed, helping one another navigate the rocky peaks around Kilcree. Weariness ate into her limbs but Lorna’s strength filtered into her and she pushed on. If they did not survive, it was all for nothing. It would
not
be for nothing.

Though her feet ached and likely bled in her slippers, she continued on. When they reached the top of the hill, they paused to gaze down at the castle. It was impossible to see what was happening.

“Do ye think they are well?” she asked Lorna.

Lorna squeezed her hand. “They are strong men. I am sure they shall be along soon.”

Catriona spied the doubt in Lorna’s pale eyes but said nothing. Numbness seeped into her body, taking root in her chest. If she never saw Finn again, she wasn’t sure what she would do. Even the idea of returning to Bute—an unlikely occurrence now her father was dead—did not fill her with joy. The luscious greens and purples of the hills appeared dull to her eyes and the sweet fragrance grew sickly. Without Finn, the world was dying around her.

In silence, they turned, still hand in hand and continued their journey.

“I am sorry for deceiving ye,” Catriona said when the castle was out of sight.

“Dinnae be.”

“I am not sure I would be so forgiving.”

“I know why ye lied. Women bear the burden of much in this world and ye have had to carry yer father’s and Gillean’s ambition. I dinnae blame ye.”

“Does Finn?”

Lorna grinned. “Nay. Indeed, he is probably cursing himself for not seeing the truth and letting ye confide in him.”

Catriona nodded vaguely. Did he really not loathe her for lying? She had caused so many problems for them and all they had done was show her kindness.

“Dinnae blame yerself, Catriona.” Lorna pulled her to a stop and forced her to face her. The fair haired woman eyed her seriously. “This is Gillean’s doing, not yers. If he had not done this to ye, he would have done it to yer sister or some other woman. But dinnae fear, he shall pay for this one day. For every drop of blood spilled, he shall pay.” Lorna stiffened and Catriona held her breath.

Horse hooves.

They huddled together. Out in the open, there was nowhere to hide. Catriona cursed her lack of a weapon but even a sword would do them no good against a rider. A flash of golden hair and wide shoulders atop a brown horse came over the brow of the hill.

“Finn!” Warmth spread through her and she released Lorna.

Another horse trotted behind him, the reins held firmly in Finn’s hands and Catriona put a hand to her mouth, glancing at Lorna. She put her arm back around Lorna and felt the strength leave her. Sorrow tore at her gut and she only imagined what Lorna was feeling.

Finn trotted up to them, his brow grooved with grief.

“Logan?” Lorna asked.

He shook his head. “Forgive me. He was cut down. I couldnae get to him.”

A sob bubbled out of Lorna and Catriona flattened her head against her chest. Lorna did not cry but tremors wracked her body.

“We must go,” Finn said quietly. “Many of yer men escaped, sister, but Gillean prevailed. We must get to the safety of Glencolum.”

Lorna lifted her head and sniffed. “Aye.”

“Shall ye ride with me?” he asked.

“Nay, I should like to ride alone if ye dinnae mind.”

Finn offered Catriona a hand and helped her up behind him. She settled against his back and wrapped her arms around his waist. He squeezed her arm and relief mingled with regret.

“Come, let us go home.”

Catriona wondered what he meant by that. Did he realise that, for her, home was wherever Finn was?

***

Moonlight lit the small chamber of Glencolum keep, seeping through the shutters and dancing over the heavy drapes and simple furnishings. Catriona shuddered beneath the bedding yet she was not cold. She swiped a frustrated hand through her hair and sat. Yet again, she was confined to the walls of a castle and her future drifted in front of her, governed by others. The tightening in her chest forced her out of bed and to the window.

Pressing open the shutters, she leaned out and drew in the clean night air, eyes fluttering closed. Her body ached—bruises marred it, but nothing compared to the agony in her chest. Her home was lost to her. Her family dead. As much as her father and sister had not been kind people, she had always longed for their love. Now she would never have it. She opened her eyes and surveyed the rugged scenery around Glencolum. The tips of the mountains glistened under the half moon and great rocks sat at awkward angles between them. More dramatic than the landscape of Kilcree, she felt an affinity with it. A need to run amongst the valleys and boulders and lose herself.

But circumstances trapped her. She’d yet to speak with Lorna but the lady of the keep, Alana, had assured her she had a home for as long as she needed. Surely it would not be long until the king found her a husband and married her off. All she had left now was a sizeable dowry—incentive enough for many suitors.

Catriona trembled. Enough to drive a man to madness. Gillean wouldn’t be the only man to think he could command a woman with force.

And no other man could claim her heart. It throbbed as a reminder of her love for Finn.

She hadn’t seen him since she’d been ushered into the chambers, exhausted and filthy, by a fussing Alana while the laird, Morgann, threatened all kinds of vengeance. Now bathed and in a clean chemise, restlessness consumed her.

A breath ensnared in her throat when her gaze settled on a shadowy figure. He turned from his spot on a low wall and faced her. Had she called his name? He froze and though unable to see his eyes, he surely saw her. Frissons like lightning bolts ran between them. She gripped the shutter edge. Should she go to him? She longed to fling her arms around those slumped shoulders and tell him of her love but she’d gone to him before. She could not keep throwing herself at his feet.

Finn rose, still facing her window then turned abruptly. Catriona sagged, the thump in her ears her only company. The impending sense of loneliness crept over her but she held her shoulders stiff. She had seen off worse dangers and survived. With the help of a good man, she had almost overcome her demons and her encounter with Laird Gillean proved how strong she could be.

A light tap at her door made her hold her breath. Her muscles stiffened, refusing to let her turn.

“Enter,” she croaked out.

The squeak of hinges. Footsteps. Whispers of fabric and long strides.

Hands came upon her arms and spun her around. She released the breath and wilted. With savage speed, his mouth met hers, hard and claiming. Catriona gasped when his hands found her waist and pulled her tight against him.

Too soon, his mouth left hers and he stared down at her, expression grim, eyes solemn. She twined her fingers into his shirt and toyed with his pin, tracing the circular knot pattern.

“How is Lorna?” she asked when silence loomed.

“She grieves.”

She nodded. She never understood what sat between Lorna and Logan but clearly it had been more than just friendship. Pain lodged in her throat. She had been so close to losing Finn too.

“He was a good friend to ye too.”