A Fire Within (These Highland Hills, Book 3) (19 page)

It was a wee kiss indeed that Caitlin spared him, once she exited the cottage to find Dar astride the big gelding, a victorious
smirk on his face. Still, it was given with a smile, and he secretly
suspected she had been glad she had lost that wager. The happiness, however, lasted less than an hour. He soon had other things
to occupy himself.

His right side was the first distraction. The jarring canter
couldn't help but set it to aching. Too stubborn to admit Caitlin and Goraidh had been correct in suggesting it was too soon for
him to be riding, Dar gritted his teeth and suffered in silence.

After the first hour, the ache had evolved into a dull, deep
throbbing. Sweat beaded his brow. By the second hour, the effort
it took to endure the pain began to weaken him. As surreptitiously as he could, Dar began to lean back against Caitlin for
support.

Finally, she reached around him and slipped her hands over
his, pulling back on the reins. "Enough of this," Caitlin said.
"Whether time is of the essence or not, we're walking the animals
from here on out."

"It's not so bad," Dar replied, though even he could hear the
strain in his voice.

"Nay, not bad enough for ye to call a halt to this, of that I'm
verra certain. But even ye can endure only so much. And since
we'll never be able to get ye back up on this horse if ye fall, it's
best to err on the side of prudence and slow the pace."

Goraidh drew up alongside them. "She's right, lad. If I do say
so myself, ye don't look all that good."

Dar dragged in a shuddering breath, which did nothing to ease
the throbbing in his side. "Fine. We'll walk the animals from here
on out. But no talking. We'll need to listen for any untoward
sounds, as close as we're now getting to Dundarave."

"And how do ye intend to enter yer home if ye're correct, and
Niall's already there?" Caitlin asked. "After all, ye're in rather poor
shape to hold off my brother and men as ye fight yer way into
Dundarave. And, last time I checked, hermits weren't known for
their prowess in battle, if they even believed in fighting."

"Which I don't, of course," their companion offered brightly.

"Suffice it to say, there are other ways in," Dar said. "Now, no
more talking. Ye'll be made aware of what to do next, when it's
the proper time."

With a small snort, Caitlin settled into a disgruntled silence. In time, with the slower, less jarring pace, Dar's side eased from
its throbbing back to a dull, and far more bearable, ache. He
began to watch the road for familiar landmarks-the crooked,
nearly leafless old rowan tree up on a barren, windswept hill.
The rickety, narrow bridge that spanned the now water-clogged
burn. The pile of large boulders that marked the descent into a
small glen.

With a silent lift of his arm, Dar indicated they should head
east down the glen. Ever so gradually, the trees began to thicken
until finally they entered a dense, hilly forest. Once in the relative
shelter of the trees, Dar finally reined in their horse.

"Here, put this on," he said, withdrawing a length of cloth
from where he had tucked it into his shoulder plaid. "Cover yer
eyes with it. And make certain ye cannot see."

Caitlin reached around him and took the cloth. "And, pray,
why is this necessary?"

"What ye don't know about, ye cannot be constrained to reveal." Dar glanced over his shoulder at her. "Suffice it to say, I'd
rather not put ye in the position of risking Dundarave's secrets
out of loyalty to yer brother."

"But I already told ye-"

"I know what ye told me," he was quick to interject, "and I
believe ye. But we can never anticipate all circumstances, lass,
and my first concern must always be for my clan. Please try to
understand."

"Fine." Caitlin moved behind him, and Dar could tell she
was tying the cloth over her eyes. "I wonder, though, if ye'll ever
truly trust me."

He sighed. "I trust yet intentions, lass. I know ye mean well.
But these are difficult times. What one believes at one moment
can well change in the next. Friendships can die; filial ties can
be severed, and trusts can shrivel. And all because of unforeseen
events, innocent as they might really be."

Her hands slipped, once more, about his waist. "I know it'll
take ye a time fully to trust me. I know, and am trying to be
patient."

And I say, Dar thought, ye try too hard. I'm not worth yer efforts.
But, soon enough, it won't matter. Yell be back with yer brother,
and that'll be the end of it-and us. So dinna fash yerself, lass. And
certainly not over the likes of me.

Granite boulders thrust from the hillside now, some piled
into impenetrable masses while others offered small shelters or
even the dark mouths of caves. Dar began to count the actual
caves and, when he reached the fifth one, he turned the gelding
toward it. Tree limbs and low-growing bushes all but obliterated
the entrance.

Dar reined in. "We'll be dismounting now."

Caitlin nodded.

He slung his right leg over the horse, freed his left foot from
the stirrup, and lowered himself to the ground. He then reached
up for Caitlin.

"Come down, lass."

She did so, blindfolded still. Dar took her hand. With the
other, he tugged the horse forward, leading them into the cave.

From the branches that brushed against her, then the feel of the
hard-packed earth beneath her feet, a cool breeze against her
cheeks, and the rock walls she touched at times, Caitlin knew
they were walking into some sort of cave or tunnel. And the stony
corridor seemed to go on for an interminable amount of time,
before Dar finally halted her.

"Hold," he said. "We need to leave our mounts here. The
door's too small for them to enter."

Obediently, Caitlin waited for the two men to situate the horse
and mule in some spot off from the tunnel. Then she felt Dar
move past her and heard some door on rusty hinges creak open.
Finally, his hand settled back on her arm.

"Come, lass," his deep voice rumbled from out of the stonemuffled darkness. "We're almost there."

She followed where he led, more than a bit miffed that Dar continued to insist on the blindfold. For once at least, though, she kept
her opinion to herself. It was but another example of her sincerity
that she could offer him, she told herself. He needed to know he
could trust her. This was but one more way she could demonstrate
it, by respecting his request without complaint or protest.

The door groaned closed behind them. Caitlin guessed Goraidh had been the one to shut it. They walked down several corridors and, though she tried to memorize the number and
direction of turns, after a time they all became a jumble in her
head. She wondered if Dar wasn't purposely backtracking several
times, just to throw her off.

Caitlin smiled. She wouldn't put it past him. He was a very
careful, precise man and, if for no other reason, likely had had
to become that way just to survive.

At last, they reached what was obviously a flight of stairs.

"Walk beside me," Dar instructed, "and I'll tell ye when each
step comes."

She nodded.

They were soon at the top of a long staircase. Dar opened
another door, slid a panel of some sort aside, and entered a room.
Immediately, warmth assailed Caitlin. The faint scent of wood
smoke reached her.

A hearth. They were somewhere within the tower house proper,
she realized. But where?

The door closed. Caitlin turned to Dar. "Is it safe to remove
the blindfold now?"

"Not quite. It's best ye not know exactly what chamber ye
entered into. Besides, we've got to find Kenneth and my uncle.
It's past time they be apprised that we've arrived."

Caitlin sighed. "Fine. Suit yersel£"

"Now, don't be losing patience just yet, lass," Dar said, amusement tingeing his voice. "Ye've been amazingly tolerant so far.
Bear with me but a short while longer."

"I have and I am," she muttered. "Just lead on, if ye will."

He chuckled but did as she requested. After what seemed yet
another endless, roundabout trek through countless corridors,
they finally entered a large, open area. Shouts of surprise and
elation greeted them.

"Dar! Thank the Lord!" Caitlin heard Kenneth cry. "Ye've
finally come."

"Ye can remove the blindfold now, lass."

The cloth was off in a flash. For an instant, the glare of the large
hearth fire across the room almost blinded her. Then Caitlin's
eyes adjusted.

She saw she was in Dundarave's Great Hall. Several men sat
on the floor before the fire. A few others stood nearby. The room
was completely devoid of furniture, as were the walls, save for
one tattered and faded tapestry.

Then she saw Kenneth, accompanied by an older man. Caitlin
turned to Dar. He must have seen the uncertainty in her eyes, for
he smiled down at her and slipped an arm about her waist.

"Ye're among friends here, lass," he said softly. "Besides Kenneth, the other man's his father and my uncle. And a finer soul
never trod this earth."

"Aside from ye, of course," she whispered back, feeling some
of her old bravado returning.

Dar threw back his head and roared with laughter. "Right as
always, ye are."

The older man drew up just then, Kenneth at his side. His
thinning hair was a heavily silvered reddish brown, and he wore a
full beard and mustache that was totally gray. Of medium height,
the man was solidly built but fit, and his deep blue gaze met hers
with a steady, if gentle, interest.

He looked from Caitlin to Dar, then quirked a graying brow.
"Considering the circumstances, ye two seem on rather good
terms.

"Och, our good terms wax and wane with the pull of the tides
or turn of the wind, Uncle." Dar turned to Caitlin. "Lass, this is
my uncle, Feandan MacNaghten. And this bonny lassie," he next
said, glancing now to the older man, "is Caitlin Campbell."

Feandan MacNaghten bowed. "I'm verra pleased finally to
make yet acquaintance, m'lady."

She smiled. "I'm equally pleased to make yet acquaintance. Though I dearly wish it had been under more pleasant circumstances.

"As do we all, m'lady." Feandan expelled a deep breath and
looked to Dar. "Assuming ye came in through the secret passage,
ye likely don't know that the Campbell has been camped outside
Dundarave for the past three days. The only thing that's kept
him from blowing us all up or burning us down was the fear his
sister was here. That, and the fact Kenneth was finally able to
convince one of the Campbell's men who knew him that ye and
the lass had yet to arrive."

"That was likely Jamie," Caitlin volunteered.

Kenneth nodded. "Aye, it was indeed."

Dar turned to Goraidh, who had been waiting quietly the
whole time. "Uncle, this is Goraidh, the hermit. He took us in
when I was sorely wounded and helped save my life. Which is
why," he added with a grim twist of his lips, "we were so long
detained from getting here."

"I know Goraidh, the holy priest and hermit of Clachan Hill,"
Feandan said, casting the other man a shuttered look. "We've met
a time or two, we have. What finally brings ye back to Dundarave
and in such surprising company?"

Goraidh looked to Dar, then back to Feandan, with whom he
locked gazes. "The lad's in need of friends, and the Lord decided
it was past time I join forces to help him."

"The Lord? The Lord God?" His eyes big and wide, Kenneth
stared at Dar. "Have ye at last turned back to God then?"

Dar rolled his eyes and sighed. "Hardly. But Goraidh and
Caitlin both seem to think this has become some holy quest.
Through no doing of mine, though, ye can be sure."

"Indeed?" Kenneth studied Caitlin intently. "I'd an inkling
if anyone could hack through those stone-walled defenses of
Dar's, ye could. So tell me, lass, what's this holy quest ye appear
to be on?"

"It's clear as day to any who care to see it. Athe's not the right
man to be yer chief. Dar is. And the Lord has brought me here to
help him accept his true destiny. After that"-she shrugged-"I
suppose I'll turn next to helping Dar save yer clan."

If the young bard's eyes had gone wide before, this time they
fair to popped out of his head. He looked to his father.

"An interesting proposal, to be sure," Feandan said carefully.
"But what about yer brother, lass, fuming outside our castle, with
Athe in tow? What do ye suggest we do about them?"

"Well, that's simple enough as well," Caitlin began. "I'll just
tell Niall to take Athe back, and then we'll-"

"Enough!" Dar cried. "Does anyone care to hear what Ithink
of her outlandish plan? Or am I no longer of any use, now that
I've not only brought this wee schemer here but have all but
delivered Athe to ye in the bargain?"

Kenneth and his father exchanged wary glances.

"Of course yer thoughts on this matter," Dar's uncle finally
replied. "I just assumed, from the way the lass was talking, this
was something ye'd both agreed upon."

"Then ye'd be assuming wrong."

"And why would that be?" Her ire rising, Caitlin pulled away
and glared up at him. "I thought we'd all this worked out back
at Goraidh's cottage."

Dar sighed. "Ye had it worked out to suit yerself, lass. I never
agreed to aught."

"But ye know it's for the best! Ye know ye're far more suited
to be clan chiefl"

"Nay." Dar fiercely shook his head. "I don't know that, and
I told ye as much back at the cottage. Indeed, I don't want to
be chief?"

She had seen that recalcitrant look before. Whether from fear
or sheer stubbornness, he wasn't going to budge. Apprehension
began to wend itself about her heart.

"So ye're still of a mind to trade me for Athe, are ye?" Caitlin
asked, her voice gone low and hoarse. "Is that it?"

"Aye, that's been my plan from the start. I've no intention of
changing it now." Dar took her by the arm. "Indeed, the sooner
we see an end to this whole miserable experience, the better, I
say.