Highlander's Promise (2 page)

Dawn had instructed the two women that as soon as her departure became known they were to let everyone know that she and Old Mary went to join Sloan in his attempt to free Cree. And they were to make it clear to the remaining warriors that they were not to follow. They were needed at the keep to protect Cree’s children. As far as the twins, Flanna and Lila would help look after them and Lila would help feed the twins along with other women in the village.

The hardest thing for Dawn had been hugging her bairns good-bye, rubbing her cheek against their soft, tiny ones and tapping their chests lightly to let them know she loved them.

Old Mary directed the lone horse off the well-traveled rode and behind a large tree. “It is time. We must do this now. We reach the castle by dusk as planned.”

Dawn nodded and got down off the cart and went around the cart to help Old Mary climb down.

“Cree is not going to like this,” Old Mary said, shaking her head, “but having given it endless thought, it is the only way for you to remain safe.”

Dawn nodded and grabbed a pouch tucked under the seat of the cart. She pulled a long strip of cloth out of the pouch, then pulled a dagger from her boot and handed it to Old Mary.

Old Mary hesitated. “If there was another way—”

Dawn gave the old woman’s stooped shoulder a squeeze, letting her know it was all right.

“This will hurt,” Old Mary warned and Dawn once again gave the old woman’s shoulder a reassuring squeeze.

They had discussed the plan over and over, Old Mary asking her repeatedly if she was certain she wanted to do this. There had never been any doubt in Dawn’s mind. It was a necessary part of the plan and she would do anything to see their mission successful. Dawn nodded, squared her shoulders, and lifted her chin high.

Old Mary placed the dagger to Dawn’s neck. “I must do this slowly so as not to make a mistake and cut you too deep, especially with these gnarled fingers of mine. And you must not dare move. Stay as still as a statue.”

Dawn gestured for her not to worry. There was little she would not do or pain she would not suffer if it helped to free her husband.

“You are a courageous one, Dawn,” Old Mary said and slowly began to run the blade across her soft flesh, careful not cut where her life’s blood flowed.

Dawn cringed and shut her eyes against the pain. She fought to keep still and fought to stop herself from grabbing Old Mary’s arm to end it. This had to be done. It was the only plausible excuse for her not being able to talk. It could not be faked, for sentries at a town’s gatehouse were known to ask many questions and if one of Minnoch’s warriors should yank the cloth down and find nothing, she and Old Mary would join Cree in the dungeon.

She opened her eyes once Old Mary was done and a few tears fell from them.

“You must love Cree very much to face his wrath when he discovers you allowed your throat to be cut to rescue him,” Old Mary said, letting some of the blood run down and stain the top of Dawn’s garment. Then she gently wrapped the worn, but clean, drab strip of cloth around Dawn’s neck and ran a thinner strip over it to tie and hold the bandage in place. She smiled as the blood soaked through in spots. “I do not think it will leave a scar, but I cannot be certain.”

Dawn shook her head as she tapped her chest.

“I know you do not care, but Cree will, for it will always be a reminder of what you suffered for him. Now come, we cannot waste another minute. We must reach the village of Loudon’s gate before it is closed for the night.”

They were soon on the road again, the cart ambling along as if the two women were in no hurry to get anywhere. When they were actually desperate to reach their destination and find a way to free Cree.

~~~

Dusk was just beginning to settle when Dawn and Old Mary approached the gatehouse. Both women stared at the high gray stone walls sounding the town and the wall walk where several sentries stood.

Old Mary’s words came back to Dawn.
It will not be an easy task.

Old Mary brought the cart to a stop at the gate. Two guards of fair size approached them, each carrying a spear and neither looking too pleased to see them.

“What is your purpose in coming to Loudon?” the one asked and took a step back after getting a whiff of them. The other guard followed suit.

“A day or two of rest, if you please, before we move on,” Old Mary said, nodding as she spoke.

“What happened to her?” the other guard asked, pointing the spear at Dawn.

“Her husband took a knife to her for talking too much and now she cannot talk at all, so he threw her out,” Old Mary said.

“If she cannot talk, how do you know that is what happened to her?” the one guard demanded.

“She is my granddaughter and I got tossed out with her.”

The guard on Dawn’s side stepped closer, wrinkling is nose against the foul odor, and pointed his spear at her. “Raise your chin.”

Dawn did as told.

The guard used the tip of his spear to tug the cloth down, revealing the wound that began to bleed from his weapon roughly tugging the cloth away from it. He cringed and shook his head. “Disgusting and probably well-deserved. Take the path on the right to the end, and you are not to stay for more than a day or two. We need the room for those who soon will be arriving and are willing to pay to see the execution,” the guard said and waved them through.

“As you say, kind sir,” Old Mary said and drove the cart through, the gate closing shut for the night behind them.

Dawn gripped the sides of her skirt.
Execution?
Who was being executed? And why had Old Mary not asked.

As if reading her thoughts, the old woman whispered, “The less interest we show the better. Now pay attention. We need to know our surroundings.”

The village was quiet, but then autumn had arrived with a chill, chasing many inside their cottages once night fell. Dawn took in all she could, though it was difficult not to take her eyes off the castle in the distance as the cart ambled down the path. It rose like a mighty beast, the narrow windows more like eyes that spied on all and somewhere deep in its bowels was her husband.

“Do not stare,” Old Mary whispered.

Dawn quickly lowered her head, fighting against the tears that threatened her eyes. She forced them away since tears would not help save her husband.

Old Mary kept her voice low. “Those in need are not the only ones to seek shelter here for the night. Thieves pick on the most vulnerable and the soldiers here care little if they do. We must stay watchful.”

Dawn nodded.

Old Mary brought the cart to a stop at the far end of the village, where other travelers were already camped. Some were asleep under their wagons and some lingered by the campfires they had lit, eating what meager food they possessed. A few men cast curious glances their way, one man blatantly rubbing himself when his eyes settled on Dawn.

She ignored him and was grateful for the dagger she carried in her boot. She hurried off the cart, then went to help Old Mary down.

“Away with your hands,” Old Mary snapped loudly. “It is bad enough your husband threw you out and me along with you. I will not see my skin rot as yours does beneath your garments.”

Dawn lowered her head and scratched at her arms as she backed away, understanding Old Mary’s intentions. No man would touch Dawn if he believed he would be left with rotting flesh.

“See to the horse,” Old Mary ordered.

Dawn hurried to tend the animal and after that she got a small fire going, worried that the night chill would cause Old Mary’s bones to ache. They ate a small amount of food, taking care not to let anyone see they had more. They were saving some for barter and some for Cree once they freed him, if either proved necessary.

“In the morning, I will ask around and see what I can find out,” Old Mary whispered as she stretched out on the blanket Dawn had spread on the ground, knowing her bones would surely protest tomorrow.

Dawn could not sleep. She was not only concerned for their safety. She was worried for Cree. Sloan had avoided given her an explanation as to why Minnoch had taken Cree prisoner or what plans the man had for her husband. Did he mean him harm? The guard’s words came back to haunt her.
Execution.
Could it be Cree who was going to be put to death? And if so why? It made no sense to her, but she had learned that men needed little reason to do harm to others, though women were also not exempt from doing harm, her own birth mother having been one of them.

She yawned and closed her eyes, only to open them moments later. The camp remained quiet as did the village. The only movement was the sentries on the wall walks. It would not be easy to free Cree from this place with sentries patrolling the wall walks and the gatehouse closing at dusk. The only way would be to sneak him out in the cart during the day. But how did she get him out of the dungeon with enough time to spare before someone discovered him gone?

Dawn slept on and off throughout the night and the more she pondered over how to free Cree, the more she lost hope. It was when the sun rose on a new day that hope returned to her, for she knew there and then that if she did not free her husband... she would join him in his cell.

Chapter Three

“Word has gone out. He is going to be beheaded.”

Old Mary laid a hand on Dawn’s leg to calm her. It had not been long after everyone in camp had woken that talk had turned to the infamous prisoner held in Minnoch’s dungeons.

“Wagers are being taken that Cree will break free before that,” someone said.

Laughter circled the small group of men talking and one voice was heard saying, “That is a fool’s wager. No one escapes Minnoch’s dungeons.”

Another chimed in, “Death is the only escape from that hell hole.”

The small band of men dispersed after agreeing they would wait and see who won the wager for themselves.

“We need to hurry,” Old Mary urged and Dawn nodded eagerly.

Dawn refused to let the grim talk defeat her or think that the suddenly gray skies were an omen of doom. If anything, knowing her husband’s fate made her more determined than ever to free him, nothing would stop her now.

It was market day in the village and the stalls were busy with people trading their wares. Everywhere Dawn and Old Mary went talk was of the prisoner Cree and his fate. Wagers were being made, mostly in Minnoch’s favor.

“Make way for Lord Minnoch! Make way!” a solider shouted and people scurried out of the way.

Dawn turned to take a look and grabbed Old Mary’s arm, rushing her behind a cart. It was not the sight of Minnoch that made her take cover, though one look at him did instill fear. He was fair in height, thick in muscle, his head completely bald and a vicious scar ran from the top of his brow down to the corner of his eye. His features were not appealing, though they were memorable in an ominous way. No, it was not Minnoch she hid from, it was the two men who rode behind him... Sloan and Elwin.

Several warriors formed two lines on either side of one of several wooden doors that ran along the stone wall of the keep. The door opened and a guard appeared. He gave a respectful bob of his head to Minnoch and limped to the side. Two of Minnoch’s warriors entered before him, followed by Sloan and Elwin and two more of Minnoch’s warrior’s trailed behind them.

The door closed and several warriors stepped in front of it.

Old Mary whispered to Dawn. “Stay here and watch.”

Dawn gave Old Mary a quick glance as she trailed after the guard who had limped away, then she turned her attention to the closed door and waited.

~~~

Cree heard several footfalls approach long before the group reached his cell. He was on his feet when the cell door swung open and when the guard entered with a torch, he stumbled back upon seeing Cree standing there as powerful as ever.

Sloan entered along with Elwin, Minnoch following them in.

Minnoch approached Cree. “Tell your men why you are rotting in my dungeon.”

“Tell them your lies yourself,” Cree said.

Minnoch turned and spat the words out with anger. “He stole from me.”

“What lies do you spew?” Sloan demanded.

“Not lies,” Minnoch said and stretched his hand out to one of his soldiers. The man dropped something into Minnoch’s hand. “I left him alone in my solar for a moment and I returned to find he had broken the seal on my chest and had these in his hands.”

Cree was the only one who did not glance at his hand. He knew what he held, rubies and emeralds that Minnoch himself had taken out of the chest in his solar.

“King Alexander insults me, sending a thief to see if I am truly loyal to the crown. I will show the King just how loyal I am by beheading the man who no doubt would steal from the King himself,” Minnoch said.

While Elwin drew everyone’s attention by protesting loudly, Cree looked to Sloan and without a word being exchanged, gave Sloan a barely noticeable nod.

“Your complaints are useless. This thief will die in three days’ time and Loudon Village will celebrate,” Minnoch said.

“I will have time alone with Lord Cree,” Sloan demanded.

Minnoch laughed. “So you can attempt to plan an escape? I am no fool. Say your good-byes, for the next time you see him will be when the axe comes down upon his neck.” He turned to one of his men. “Take them out of here.”

Sloan and Elwin protested loudly as they were led out, while Minnoch remained behind with two warriors.

“The King underestimated me as did you. I will see you dead and claim your lands as mine and the King will have no choice but to grant me them for ridding him of such a dishonorable warrior.” He turned to go, then stopped and turned to face Cree once more. “As for your wife, I have wondered what it would be like to poke a voiceless woman.” He laughed and turned to go.

“Minnoch,” Cree said with such command that the man could not help but turn and face him. “I am going to enjoy killing you.”

Minnoch could not stop the shudder that ran like a cold chill through his body when for a brief moment he believed that Cree would see him dead, and he was relieved when the key turned and clicked in the lock behind him.