Spellbound (22 page)

48

Autumn had descended and set a fierce northern chill upon the land. Days were darker and scoured by winds that whipped through the mountains and down through the valleys. No part of the castle was warm.

Yet
many within the keep bore the change in season unexpectedly well, attending to hearths and duties with a renewed cheer.

Part
of the reason was the restored peace with the MacKinnon clan. After his heartfelt apologies to his daughter and to Kade and his clan, Brodie, though a broken man, had gone back to his keep to try to set things right. Those who had taken part in the attack against the MacAlisters, a fistful of Calum’s deranged and devoted followers, had been dealt with, harshly and swiftly. They’d been hung by the neck.

There
were instances, though, that marred the spate of peaceful days. Two men and women of uncertain clan wandered onto MacAlister lands and were held for several tense days for questioning before being released. It was determined they were poor wanderers who did not belong to any clan. And there was a fire in the village that destroyed a newly built croft; a young couple and a newly born babe had barely escaped with their lives. It was determined that the fire was an accident, but it made people uneasy.

It
was true that fewer clan members looked at Maighdlin with hate-filled, suspicious eyes. She belonged to Kade, belonged at his side, and all knew it now. Brodie’s innocence had been declared. She was accepted as Kade’s wife as she might never have been otherwise. For that she was grateful.

But
Maighdlin was not as happy as she could be. Dreams still plagued her. Niall’s ghostly image had appeared twice to her, and Fenalla was by his side now. They both spoke to her but she could not make out their words. It could mean only one thing. Niall had crossed over and been reunited with Fenalla, but for some reason, they were not at peace and had made the dangerous trek back across the netherworld to warn her of something.

Maighdlin
treasured the long nights huddled beneath the blankets, anchored against Kade’s side, his powerful arms warm about her body. She did not tell Kade about Niall’s return; she did not wish to trouble him until she could make sense of it. But as the days slipped into weeks, her dreams increased and became even more troubling. She often thrashed in her sleep, awaking in Kade’s arms, his soothing voice trying to comfort her. She dreamt of fires and torches, of angry men and women, of Calum falling to his death from the parapet.

Much
of Kade’s time was taken up by seeing to the keep’s defenses, visiting villagers to assess their needs and see how the rebuilding was progressing, and hearing complaints and troubles daily from clan members as he sat at the high table, people seeking his advice and aid. There were tired shadows of fatigue beneath his eyes, but whenever he looked at her, his gaze burned with a newfound joy and heat that could still make Maighdlin blush.

His
crooked, irreverent grin made her heart leap. He was achingly tender, and his touch let her know all he felt for her.

Always,
whenever he was near, she was acutely aware of his presence. They talked about little matters, mundane things, but they didn’t speak of Calum or the tragedy. Maighdlin knew Kade still harbored hatred for the MacKinnon clan, and she could not blame him for it. She only hoped that as the days went on that they would both find a way to heal.

Many
a night in their chamber they sat before the hearth, and Maighdlin laid her head on his brawny shoulder.

“
I know ‘tis selfish of me Maggie, but I want ye to find some sort of peace here, with me.”

When
she lifted her face to him, he spied the tears that threatened to overflow. “Is it the dreams?”

Maighdlin
nodded. “I canna ken their meaning. They make me uneasy.”

“
Tomorrow I plan to ride to the chapel. Would ye like to go with me? Perhaps it would help to set yer mind at ease.”

“
Aye, Kade. I would ve’y much like to go with ye. I havena been feeling well of late.”

“
Yer ill?” he asked, clearly concerned.

“
’Tis nothing serious. Sometimes I feel sick to my stomach, but it passes. It usually only happens after I dream.”

“
Has it always been so?”

“
Aye.”

“
You’ve been through so much, little flower.”

The
next morning after gathering their provisions, they rode from the keep on Kade’s horse. Fortunately, it was a sunny, crisp day, and before long they were tethering the horse outside the tiny kirk.

Inside,
Kade inspected the recent repairs near the altar and seemed satisfied. He lit candles and took Maighdlin’s hand in his own as they sat in the front pew. Neither of them spoke, each quiet with their own thoughts.

After
a while he rose. “I would visit my brother’s and Fenalla’s graves.”

Maighdlin
nodded, knowing he needed time alone with his thoughts. Fenalla’s body had recently been moved from a family plot and buried next to Niall’s. She closed her eyes for a while, and when she opened them again she could see Kade through the window, kneeling at the base of the stones. Her heart went out to him.

The
wind jostled his midnight-black hair, which nearly reached to his shoulders now. Leaves skittered to the ground around him. She sat up straighter as Niall’s spirit and Fenalla’s appeared.

They
reached out to Kade, both smiling. Even though Kade could not see them, his head came up at the exact moment they stretched their ghostly arms toward him, and she could see he was crying. A golden shaft of sunlight broke the clouds and Maighdlin stood, her heart beating in her chest, as Niall, grasping Fenalla’s hand in his own and looking right at Maighdlin through the window, silently walked into the mist.

Be
vigilant, Maggie.
She could hear Niall’s voice.
And be at peace. Tell my brother I will miss him terribly, e’en though he was oft a pain in my arse.

When
Kade returned to her side, she embraced him as the stern faces of the carved wooden Saints looked on. She felt lighter and more content than she had in days. Maybe Niall and Fenalla had finally found their peace. Maybe she had worried over the dreams for nothing.

Kade’s
arms came around her without hesitation, and he buried his face in her hair. “Ah Maggie, but ye do mend my torn and wicked soul.”

She
lifted her shining eyes to his, searching them. “Kade…I believe yer brother…and Fenalla…I believe they’ve found their peace at last.”

He
quirked a dark brow, a slight smile curving his masculine lips. “Tell me what ye saw, Maggie.”

“
While ye were kneeling at yer brother’s grave, I saw their spirits, together. They stood near ye, and reached out to ye before they walked into the mist together.”

Kade
looked as if he did not trust himself to speak. His eyes filled with tears. He smoothed one of Maggie’s curls away from her face.

“
He said he will miss ye terribly, Kade, e’en though ye were a pain in his arse.”

Kade
laughed. “That sounds like something Niall would say. Will ye miss Niall, Maggie?”

“
Aye. I think I will. Kade, ye must miss your brother more than words can say.”

“
I do, love, I do. But ye’ve made me realize something.”

“
What’s that?”

“
I need to start living again.” He cupped her chin with his hand. “I should’ve told ye many times already, Maggie, how much I love ye. I love ye more than ye ken. More than my own life.” He captured her mouth deeply and warmly and her heart leapt with joy. He placed kisses across her temple. “I’m a stubborn man and I dunna deserve yer love after all I’ve done…after all that’s happened.”

“
It doesna matter whether ye deserve it or no’, Highlander,” she said, “for ye have it. Ye’ll always have it.”

They
lay on the floor and he took her hard, driving his shaft between her legs, branding her again as his and his alone. He thrust into her as a man desperate to live again, pounding her to her core as she took him in with her body and heart, their heartbeats and breathing mingling together.

Much
later the sunlight filtered through the windows, lacing their bodies and the dim interior with shadows. They took their time dressing, placing kisses on each other’s bodies as they did so. As they walked from the kirk, Kade’s plaid stirred up leaves that had drifted inside the open door on a soft wind. They’d forgotten to close the new door when they’d come in.

As
Kade shut it against the wind, Maighdlin knew in her heart that she would not see Niall again, and while she was happy he had crossed over, she felt sad at the thought.

49

The castle was astir, servants going about their daily routines. Maighdlin was restless. Kade had been gone for a good part of the morning.

She’d
broken her fast with bread and cheese and now sat idly in the great hall. A walk in the gardens would do her good, but it had become a lonelier place when Kade was not with her.

Outside
in the courtyard, she heard the Blacksmith’s hammer and the men and boys training with their weapons. Small groups of women carted linens about and others brought rushes that they’d gathered from a nearby burn. The sunshine was pale and weak and the wind was picking up, promising with its whispers to rock the birches and oaks in the dark of night.

Maighdlin
turned sharply, thinking someone had been following her, swearing she saw something move in the dark shadows between the villagers’ timber buildings. But there was only stillness.

She
silently chided herself for being suspicious. She saw Gordain hobbling about, his leg much better, and she waved to him. He gave her a big smile, but he was busy teaching his son how to parry and thrust, despite his recent injury.

Alone.
She was still achingly alone here. Would it always be so? Would she always be an outsider looking in? Always fearful of eyes and ears in the dark?

Determined
not to be afraid, she held her head high. This was Kade’s home. He’d chosen her. She belonged here. They were meant to be together.

Feeling
more adventurous, she decided to surprise Kade by meeting him in the village, among the people who were rebuilding. She’d made a few such trips to help the villagers in any way she could, but he’d chided her like she was a small child for doing it by herself. He didn’t want her traveling about unescorted while danger still lurked.

She
pulled her cloak tighter and walked from the gate along a narrow wooded path that would eventually bring her to the village after she passed an orchard. She stopped again, thinking she heard a twig snap, and turned. Was someone following her?

She
listened hard but heard only the rush of wind through the trees. While the sun was out, it wasn’t too cold, but she still felt chilly.

She
continued to walk, admiring the fall colors blazing against the brown and green earth. When she rounded a bend, she stopped short. The bedraggled men and women who had wandered onto their land a fortnight ago, who had been questioned and released, stood in her path. They had two horses now, a man and a woman atop each, and the horses looked worn and ill-fed.

The
men jumped from their mounts before she could utter a sound and wrestled her to the ground, gagging her mouth and tying her arms behind her back. She was hauled onto the back of one of the horses and they shot away from the keep, riding west into the fading sun….

50

It was dusk when they stopped to make camp in a lonely glen in the shadow of an ancient mountain. The narrow valley contained a tumbling burn, and they were sheltered by hills of lichen-hung trees.

Maighdlin
was set down and tied to the base of a wide oak. They did not remove the gag tied behind her head.

She
watched as the men prepared a meager fire and the women prepared a makeshift bed. Both men were dirty and gruff, with dark hair and unkempt beards. One of them deftly skinned a rabbit and cooked it. They ate sloppily, ignoring her needs and offering her nothing. Then the men laid down on the grimy blankets and the women with them. They all watched her fearfully with their cold, dark eyes. The women were dressed in clothing not much better than rags, and both had frizzled hair graying at the temples.

The
night had brought cold temperatures and Maighdlin shivered. No one would be giving her a blanket or a cloak. She watched them as they finally slept by the banked fire, and then she silently began working the ropes that bound her hands and those pinning her to the tree. The man who had bound her had big, clumsy hands and the ropes weren’t tied very tight. Finally, the ropes fell to the ground. She winced at the slight sound, but her captors did not awaken.

She
untied and ripped the gag from her mouth, and remaining in a crouched position, began to move into the brush and a thicket of alder trees.

Her
heart felt as if it would leap from her throat. She’d gone about ten or fifteen feet into the forest when a twig snapped loudly beneath her foot. She stilled. One of the men awoke, and seeing her gone, quickly alerted the others. They started to spread out to look for her. It was dark now, and stars glinted in the black blanket of sky.

She
started to run and then to crawl on all fours, trying to ignore the pain of sharp twigs and rocks biting into her tender flesh. She crawled beneath fallen branches and stopped to catch her breath, listening.

She
strained to see, but there was only horrible, inky darkness now and the shouts of her attackers. Something crawled over her fingers and she shook it off, barely managing not to cry out. She began to move again.

“
Find her! She canna be far!” one of the men yelled.

Maighdlin
emerged from the branches on the other side of the clearing and began to run. One of the men had lit a torch from the fire and was heading in her direction. She crouched lower but she was in a field now, and the earth sloped upward.

She
made her way toward ferns and bushes that bordered one side of the field. That’s when they spied her. “There she is! Get the bitch!”

Despite
his size and considerable girth, the man was fast. She gasped when a dirty, sour hand clamped over her mouth. “Where do ye think yer goin’, lass?”

She
writhed, biting the hand that held her mouth. Her attacker cried out in pain and slapped her face hard. “Tie the bitch tighter this time!”

Her
assailant hauled her back to the camp they’d made and bound her hands in front of her this time, the ropes so tight they rubbed her skin raw.

“
Dunna do this,” she pleaded. “MacAlister will find ye and kill ye, all of ye.”

“
That may be lass, but ye’ll be good and dead by then,” the aulder woman said. “Yer no’ going live past the morning. We’ve a special sort of justice in mind for ye. Boys, let’s find that pit. We canna wait until morning. She may turn into a bird and fly away.”

Maighdlin
was gagged again and placed on the horse on her stomach, in front of one of the men. Her hair trailed nearly to the ground. He caressed her buttocks and she squirmed, trying to move away from his touch. “’Tis a shame such lovely buttocks were wasted on a witch,” he said.

“
Cease yer lustful thoughts,” the aulder woman said. She seemed to be the leader of the group. “We’ve no time for such nonsense.”

They
rode for another hour and wandered around in the dark until one of the men yelled, “I found it! ‘Tis here!”

It
was close to midnight now, and the moon was a cold sliver of milky light that showed her attackers’ faces streaked with dirt and grime, their eyes wild. They stopped in a field nestled in a valley at the base of the old mountains.

The
old, haggard woman, the leader, smiled. “We’ve found it, lass,” she croaked. “The place where we’ll send ye back where ye belong, to hell. Yer final resting place.”

Without
removing her gag or the tight bindings from her wrists, one of the men shoved her forward in the darkness. She put her arms out, but felt only air as she fell into a hole that was probably ten feet deep. She landed with a sucking thud against wet, decaying earth, heard her ankle snap, the breath knocked from her. She saw stars and felt stabbing hot pain in her foot, but managed not to lose consciousness.

Her
feet had begun to sink into wet mush, almost up to her knees. She was lucky it wasn’t deeper than that.

In
the moonlight, she could see that the pit was the span of a person’s arms. She spied the bones of a poor sheep that had fallen into the pit long ago. The hole smelled damp, of dung, vegetation, and earth.

The
fat woman with the sharp tongue looked down at her from above. She was auld, and in the moonlight, Maighdlin could see more clearly now the crisscross of scars on her face and throat, as if someone had slashed her with a knife. She looked into her eyes and knew her.
Maighdlin knew her.

“
It was best if me son Calum thought me dead,” she said. “I wasn’t the best of mums, as ye might ken. Calum was always a pain in my arse. I ne’er should ‘ave had a child. I took a potion to prevent it, but it didna work. And Brodie, well, he soon grew tired of me and forgot all about us. But Calum didna deserve to die the way he did.”

Maighdlin
shivered, knowing now that she was speaking to Calum’s mother. She’d let her son believe she’d died in the attack at the tavern. There was nothing in her eyes but coldness and cruelty.

“
I heard what happened on the tower. I know ye pushed me only son to his death.”

Maighdlin
tried to deny it, to tell her the truth, but she was gagged and no one could make out her words.

The
auld woman crossed herself. “Ye certainly bewitched all in yer path, didn’t ye lass? Including the handsome laird MacAlister. Hmmm. Well, ye’ll ne’er see him again. Did he fuck ye hard and tell ye he loved ye afterward? ‘Tis the way of men to lie, especially when they want to use yer body good and hard for their pleasures and then toss ye aside.”

One
of the men lifted something down to Maighdlin on a rope. A basket of food.
Almost like in her dream. Except she wasna in a dungeon but a pit.
Why did they bother? Her stomach was in a cold knot. She had no appetite. Her hands were tied and her mouth gagged.

“
How is she going to eat that?” the smaller man said. “Her mouth is gagged. Yer wasting precious food!”

The
man laughed. “I dunna care. I want to taunt her. If she manages to get that gag off, she can eat it like the swine she is. Put her face in it and suck. She’s probably good at that.”

“
Start the fire quick, lads. We need to burn her now, afore anyone realizes she is gone.”

No!
She wouldna die this way! She would see Kade’s beautiful face again. She would know his kisses and his body and his love again.

With
great pain, her hands still tied in front of her, she began to make her way along the bottom of the mucky pit to get closer to a wall, trying not to think about snakes and other creatures that might be living in the muck. Gritting her teeth and holding back tears, she finally pulled herself up so she was standing on her good foot.

Though
her hands were tied, she began to claw her way up the wall. But the mud was loose and she slipped before she began again. She kept trying. She tried to scream, but the gag muted the sound.

Above
the mountains, the light that had faded to darkness was a murderous red glow. “Do ye hear that crackling, witch?” The larger man who had bound her hands held a torch above the pit. “Ye see this? Soon ye’ll feel it licking yer whole body, taking ye to hell, where witches belong.”

She
saw and smelled the fire meant to consume her flesh and bones and erase her from this earth.
Her attackers began to throw kindling into the pit, tree limbs and dry brush. She flattened herself against the mud wall to avoid being hit by the rough chunks of wood.

The
eyes of her attackers looking down at her were as yellow as the surrounding melancholy bogs. The only saving grace of this place of hell was a layer of wet peat. It might give her extra time; it might mean the fire would start slowly. But the smoke might kill her before the fire would.
She wouldna give up…she wouldna!

Her
fingers dug into the slippery mud walls once more as she heard the voices of her assailants above, chanting
“The witch will burn! The witch will burn!”

She
pushed her face against the mud wall, trying to dislodge the gag from her mouth….