Celtic Fury (27 page)

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Authors: Ria Cantrell

BOOK: Celtic Fury
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Pointing an arrow at Rory, the MacDougal said, “Ye’ willna’ get that chance, I am afraid. Throw down yer arms and I will let ye’ live.”

Rory snarled and answered, “I would rather face death fighting t
han to surrender my life to ye’
anyway.”

Rory still felt the darkness inside him but suddenly, behind MacDougal, he saw her, shimmering before him. Dear God it was Caitlyn
!
He must be losing his mind for good this time for never had he seen her while awake. She murmured, “Ye must live, Ruiri. There is treachery afoot…She needs ye'…Live Ruiri…”

Almost in a daze, his sword dropped to the ground, and he prepared for death that didn’t come. Stephen MacDougal wondered at that sudden action after Ruiri proclaimed he would never surrender. What the hell was he looking at? The Wolf almost looked spellbound. Finally, he called out, “Bind him. He is worth more to us alive than dead.”  Ransom! MacDougal planned to ransom him. That was more humiliating than death, but he had to endure it, if it meant he could get home to Brielle. Now he knew for sure she was in danger, else Caitlyn would not have come to him.

Ah, Brielle, please be alright. Ye must be alright, my love.

The words screamed in his mind, hoping she could hear his heart over space and time. But he felt that squeezing in his heart again. Bloody Hell…He didn’t have time for this.

“Have our
guest
ride with me at the front flanks.”

“But he killed…”

“I see that. And he would have taken a lot more of ye’ had I not arrived.” After Rory’s hands were bound in front of him so he could still hold his reigns, MacDougal stripped him of his dirks and short sword and met his eyes, which blazed with unabashed hatred.

“Why would ye’ let them waste the land?” Rory asked boldly.

A look of regret came into Stephen MacDougal’s eyes.

“I will meet out punishments for that. We may be rival clans, but I agree that wasting the land is abhorrent.” 

Though his hands were bound and he was the prisoner of the MacDougal, Rory rode, with his head held high, back straight and unwavering. After riding in silence for some time, he spoke.

“How much ransom do ye’ wish to rape my people for my hide?” Stephen MacDougal looked at Rory and frowned.

“While the ransom will help our coffers greatly, there is another reason why I wanted ye’ taken alive. Any of yer’ brothers would have done, but ye’ are by far the best for the task at hand, Wolf.” Rory flinched at that name and confusion played in the expression on Rory’s face.

“Do ye’ mean these raids were a trap? That ye’ wished to trap me or my kin?”

“Well, I couldna’ have just asked ye’ nicely to help my cause, now could I? As ye’ saw, my men are undisciplined; simmering and unpredictable. Our raids are mostly unsuccessful. Now Robert II has given his approval for lowlanders to try to usurp what is rightfully highlanders’. My clan will not stand that test. I need ye’ to train my men to fight like highlanders.”  Rory laughed sarcastically.

“Ye’ expect me to train yer’ men to have them come and slaughter my people?  I dunna’ think that will happen.”

“Think again, Rory MacCollum, because the punishment for killing my clansman is yer own death. Rumor has said ye

were to be wed this week. Surely ye’ dunna’ wish to leave yer betrothed and make her a widow for the second time.”  The muscle worked in Rory’s jaw.

“What do ye

know of her and how did ye

learn of her in the first place?”

“Only that she is an English widow and that she is seeking refuge at MacCollum Keep and that her beauty rivals the heavens. Ye

know how word spreads among the clans. I was surprised really to hear that ye’ were going to wed. I always thought the Highland Wolf was not the marryin’ kind. Now, think about my
generous
offer
, Ruiri. Do ye really wish to leave her alone in a strange land?” Rory was trying to control his fury.

“Did ye

call for her ha
rm?” Stephen eyed him levelly. 


I would never use a woman or endanger one for rival disputes. Despite what ye

think of me and my clan, I dunna’ harm innocents. Nay she is still safe at MacCollum as far as I know.” Rory swallowed down the gall in his throat. He knew in his heart Brielle was
not
safe and he really needed to get home to her.

He murmured, “She is not…English. She is a highlander. She is…a Campbell and she is already my wife by Ancient Rite.” 

“A Campbell
,”
Steph
en MacDougal spat. “
Why that is worse than marrying an English girl. Ye’ jest!”

“Nay. I sense she is in
great
danger, and if not by yer’ command, then by both those Satan spawn brothers of hers. I was going home when yer’
fine
band of men
here,
stopped me.”

Stephen was still shocked at the revelation that the Highland Wolf had married a Campbell, and by
Ancient Rite
, no less. All the clans knew of how his betrothed had been killed by the Campbells years ago. Stephen knew that for Rory to take the Ancient vows meant that his rival was in love. Ye’ dunna’ take the binding rite for political gain or for a marriage of business. It was hard to think of the Wolf as a man who could fall that deeply in love. While he knew that much of what had been told of Rory MacCollum was more legend than truth, still Stephen marveled at that news. But holy Christ…a bloody feckin’ Campbell! Stephen MacDougal was sure who hated th
e Campbells
more
;
MacCollum or MacDougal.

Knowing how much Rory hated the Campbells, Stephen said, “I am sorry, Ruiri. But as I said, I am in severe threat of clan destruction.”

What if ye’ let me go and I promise to help as soon as…” Stephen MacDougal cut him off.

“Ye’ know I trust ye’ as much as ye’ trust me. Our years as rival clans have fostered that.”

“I am a man of my word, MacDougal.”

“I am afraid it must be this way. You have two choices. Train my men or face certain death.”

The MacDougal saw Rory’s eyes darken. Rory was fighting the darkness which was burbling up inside him and he was not sure this time he could quell it.
Rory
hadn’t missed the darkness once Brielle had started to banish it with her love. Now it was seeping through him like
faithful
poison in his veins.

He barely heard Stephen MacDougal say, “Look, I have spent too much time at court. I should have vested more time with my warriors. I admit that. I need yer’ help Ruiri, willingly or no.” 

“So, I must pay for yer’ lacking as a leader?” The MacDougal’s head whipped around at the sound of Rory's voice. It seemed different; as if it had come from someone else. How odd!

“No need to be insulting.”

“I didna’ start this fight. Ye’ raided our land. Ye’ let yer men lay waste to our meadows and set out traps for me or my kin.”

“What…what is wrong with yer’ voice?” Rory knew that when he was trying to block the darkness, his voice changed.
He knew it sounded more like a growl than his regular speaking timber.
He could not control it. It was part of the sickness.

“T’is from the smoke,” he lied. But as he said those words, the MacDougal could see Rory was speaking carefully.

Hold on, Rory. Push the darkness back. For Brielle
; you must hold on for Brielle
.
Rory fought with himself. The MacDougal did not press him further, realizing that mayhap some of the legends about the Wolf of the Highlands were born on truth after all. At any rate, Stephen MacDougal knew that this was not a man to be trifled with. He could see there was a raging fury inside the man he had captured and he knew better than to provoke it. He would hold his tongue for the remainder of the journey to MacDougal Keep. Keeping a wary eye on his prisoner, MacDougal charged their retinue forward.

 

 

Chapter Twenty-Seven

 

Caleb and Shawn carefully picked their way to Castle Campbell. Caleb was certain Brielle had been taken there. Besides getting there, they didn’t have much of a plan. Caleb knew the brothers were unpredictable and cruel. He even thought that quite possibly they had deteriorated almost to the point of
complete
. He wasn’t sure they would be able to be effective in rescuing Brielle, but he knew he had to do everything he could and try.

Oh, the tongue lashing Morag had given him
!
Imagine being the Laird of the clan and yet, that old woman had made him feel like a boy caught with his hands in his pants! With a sigh, Caleb thought, she was right. He had failed. If a laird could not protect one wee lass, how could he be the leader of a clan? The weight of Brielle’s abduction weighed heavily on Caleb MacCollum that day.

 

*****

 

Jerome dragged Brielle before Roderick. She was so weak and battered from the trip, she stumbled forward. Her heart was broken and she had little fight left in her.

“By God, ye’ look like hell, Gabrielle. Ye’ dishonor yer’
clan and for what? Look at ye’!
Ye’ dare to wear his plaid before me. And ye’ stand before me looking more like a street whore than a highland lady, and this when I had ye’ set well to live in a rich man’s manor.”

“What do ye’ want from me? I dunna’ look like this from the MacCollums. T’is yer’ man who did this to me. They have treated me like a queen. They have aided me and cared for me.” 

“What of yer husband, Gabrielle?”

“He was an old sick man…He didn’t love me…and he died…I know ye’ didn’t want me…why couldn’t ye’ leave me alone?”

“Because ye’ dishonor me and ye’ dishonor the clan.”

“The Clan? There is no clan. Ye’ saw to that. All that is left are renegade outlaws. I am ashamed to be called Campbell because of
what ye’ have done to the clan. Grandfather would be horrified at what ye’ have done to ‘the clan’.”
 

Roderick’s hand, swift and stinging slapped her hard. She was almost numb to it at this point. Nothing mattered anymore, anyway. If she could not be with Rory, there was no physical hurt
that could
break her. And, she couldn’t be with Rory. She would never endanger his life at the hands of her twisted brothers. With eyes glazed over, Brielle barely even flinched as he struck her.

She said, “Ye’ can abuse me all ye’ want but I know the truth.”

“Well after yer’ precious warrior comes for ye’, and I finish him, as I should have years ago, ye’ are going back to Val ‘Cour.” At this proclamation, Brielle’s restraint snapped.

“It was
you

you
are the one who killed Rory’s betrothed. I didna’ want to believe it.” 

The sneer that twisted Roderick’s lips made Brielle know that
he had been
completely taken
over
by evil.

He said, “The arrow was meant for him, only his harlot got in the way. I understand she was breeding his spawn…how lucky we prevented bringing more of the Rabid Wolf’s offspring into the world.”

Suddenly feeling like a madwoman herself, Brielle flew at Roderick, s
creaming, “She was just a girl.
She never did anything to ye’…Ye’ bloody bastard…” Roderick almost seemed amused by hour outburst. He laughed at her as she lunged for him with the maniacal cackle that foretold of his madness.

She tried to strike at him, but he grabbed her hair and yanked it hard, causing her to snap her head back and wince.

“I see ye’ and she have much in common, only know this. If ye’ carry his seed, I promise to choke the life out of it upon its birth.” Brielle kicked at him as hard as she could, but he
managed to
sidestep the blow.

Smiling like an evil spect
er
, Roderick said, “Take this whore out of my sight. I can smell the stench of the MacCollum taint about her. And burn that filthy plaid so I may never see it disgrace these halls again.” 

Jerome McManus nodded in a bow of acquiescence. Dragging the girl up the stairs, he looked forward to stripping her of that plaid and watching her cry as he tossed it to burn on the dung heap in the bailey. She thought she was so high and mighty. She had emasculated him and he was going to make her to pay.

 

 

Chapter Twenty-Eight

 

Caleb had camped outside of Castle Campbell for three days. The keep was in horrible disrepair. Parts of the outer bailey were actually crumbling in ruin. There was no teaming village life surrounding the keep. Only a handful of ill cared for serfs resided in small huts on the outskirts. Caleb tried to remember the layout of the keep when he had visited long ago when Gavin was still alive and theirs were just rival clans without an actual blood feud. He had gone to the Campbell keep for a war council, but he had been so young then. His own father had still been Laird.

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